We have gills now. Or, after all the seafood we ate on the East Coast, we should.

We started off with mussels in Connecticut. We ate them at this GREAT brasserie in Ridgefield.

Oh, we also had the Mediterranean Fish Soup. And warm avacado and kalamari salad. All seafood, all the time.

In Boston, our first stop was the Union Oyster House. The oysters were amazing.

So was this guy.

He was the best customer service experience we had . . .and yet he was totally rude. And hilarious. He managed to make everyone at the 1800s era bar laugh. Some of us were perhaps in danger of shooting raw "oystahs" out our noses. But, we held it in. He told stories, did impressions of snotty customers And, he shucked oysters at the same time. I think he's kinda famous. Mom recognized him from a Travel Channel show.

After the oysters and the entertainment, we headed back to our hotel only to realize that another famed restaurant was just around the corner.

We call what followed Dinner #2. Salmon, swordfish, scallops and some other fish that neither of us can remember without deep thought. Blame the food coma.

The next day, we chose to raise our mercury levels a bit higher with another dozen oysters after the baseball game.

After Boston, we headed to Cape Cod. And we ate seafood. This time "lobstah." It was beautiful.

And, no, we didn't forget the butter.

Eventually, I have to return to Montana, a very land-locked state where (according to my non sushi-eating friends) every bite of seafood is taking my life into my own hands.

Hmmm...I haven't had smoked whitefish yet.

* If you could name that movie line, we must speak. It's from Waterworld - a seriously underated movie, as far as I'm concerned. The ultimate bad guy is also hilarious and continuously refers to Kevin Costner with derogatory references to his mutated gills.