There’s a simple strategy for eating in Atlantic Canada. It should be all lobster, all the time.

That’s how I found myself at Ryer Lobsters, Ltd. this week, just up the road from Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia. The wholesaler doesn’t call itself a restaurant. But it will boil a lobster, and serve it on a cardboard plate. No butter, no cole slaw, just sweet meat. “I can’t crack the tail for you,” explained Joan Hoskin. Health department regulations. But the price was irresistible: $8.45 a pound, cooked.

While I was waiting for my meal, Joan reached into a tank and pulled out Anty Tenna (named by her grandson). The 15-pound mammoth had claws as big as a catcher’s mitt. About 40 years old, it shows how big a crustacean can get when left alone.

A few customers marveled at Anty Tenna. Half hoped it would be released. The other half were practically salivating as they tried to calculate the meat yield.

Joan settled the matter. “We’ll let it go at the end of the season.”

With that, I sat down at a fire-engine-red picnic table and began to tackle my lunch, eyeing those tasty claws with new respect.