It’s undeniable that a clearly defined food hierarchy is firmly in place in modern America.

On the lowest rung of the culinary ladder is college fare – boxed meals like Kraft dinner, Ramen, Ellio's pizza – you know the names. Climb halfway up the ladder and you’ll find yourself sharing a view with more respectable if not outright glamorous folks – strawberries, broccoli, pork chops. If you and your wallet can manage to clamber all the way to the top, you’ll find yourself in the realm of four-star restaurants, Kobe beef, Dom Perignon, and lobster.

Let’s bring our focus to the one last on that list - lobster. You might be surprised to find that yes, starving artist, yes, English undergrad, yes, unemployed-due-to-the-poor economy, you too, can afford a lobster dinner. In Philly. Blocks from Rittenhouse. Where? Seafood Unlimited.

Their comparatively spare website – for a lobster place - left me wondering how the night would play out. The fact that their menu neglects to mention prices made me suspect highway robbery was at hand. Just the same, I went.

While I have to admit that the kissing, bronzed fish that decorate the light fixtures are deserving of an eyebrow raised in amusement, the overall atmosphere is wanting. Wanting what? Wanting personality. Wanting to be romantic, modern, greasy, kitschy – something. In an effort to be a little bit of everything, the ultimate effect is a perfectly generic space. You can strike this one off your list of restaurants to impress your smokin' new girlfriend. Still, the service was friendly if a bit bumbling, and the tabletops were clean. Not a complete catastrophe.

But let’s not forget what brought us here – the lobster special. Seafood Unlimited offers two lobster House specials: 1 1/8 pound Lobster steamed or stuffed with crab Imperial (or try the same at 1 ½ pound, if you've got a bigger appetite). We decided to extend the anticipation and started with an appetizer - Little Neck clams steamed with white wine and fresh herbs. It was the perfect size for two to split, the clams managed to dodge the two classic clam killers – being too salty and too chewy – and the generous broth of herbed wine could have stood on its own as a soup.

My boyfriend ordered the smallest portion of lobster, served with corn and coleslaw as his two choices from among the roughly half-dozen sides offered with dinner, which are, with the exception of stewed tomatoes, made up of typical seafood pairings: baked potatoes, French fries, or onion rings. I opted for the broiled scallops, which are also offered fried, with Jasmine rice and a "vegetable medley.”

Though I went that route of my own free will, that phrase "vegetable medley" probably should have warned me. Note the quotation marks. It sort of conjures up images of frozen Green Giant packages and cafeteria lunch options, doesn't it? Well, that's essentially what it turned out to be, lukewarm and undercooked. My rice, while shaped into a neat little funnel with best aesthetic intentions was, like the "vegetable medley," undercooked, and the colorful sprinkling of spices over the top turned out to be a tongue-curling raw curry powder. Perhaps that was why the crunchy rice tasted so bland?

My scallops were decent. Not excellent. Certainly not my mother's, pan-seared to golden brown perfection on the outside, juicy and rare on the inside. They were as I often find restaurant scallops: dry, and lifelessly pale.

But the lobster is the crustacean of the hour, is it not? And, well, the lobster was pretty darned good. It came presented neatly split in half, its modestly priced flesh fogging my boyfriend's glasses with steam.

Even the unbroken claws demand little effort in return for their meat. The apparent complexity of simply disassembling a cooked lobster deters some diners from braving stares in restaurants. I had never opened lobster claws before, and my boyfriend showed me how to quite simply crunch the tip of the claw with a nutcracker and extract the meat inside. And, of course, how to dip it in melted butter before consumption. Granted, at ten o'clock, half an hour shy of Seafood Unlimited's closing time, there were hardly any seafood veterans to gawk at my inexperience. Or at the two Shirley Temples I guzzled down like an eight year old.

And now - the damage. For an order of roughly a dozen steamed clams ($9.50), the scallops and lobster entrées (respectively $18.50 and $22.50), and our ice teas and Shirley Temples (free refills on those, by the way, $3.90 for four drinks), plus sales tax and tips, our meal for two came out to about $60 – sixty clams, perhaps I should say. Granted, we skipped out on drinks, but Seafood Unlimited does offer a small selection of red and white wines, as well as beer and cocktails.

Bottom Line: Good lobster. Skip the caustic rice and "vegetable medley," though the coleslaw is worth a taste. Small space makes it ideal for two, but don't leap to the conclusion that that's an automatic aphrodisiac. Reservations aren't necessary. Dress casually.

Emily Homrok is studying Film and Video Production at Drexel University in Philadelphia. She writes a recipe column for the Philadelphia Examiner. Her poetry is forthcoming in Gargoyle Magazine.

Article photograph from man pikin, via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Bet You Can't Afford...?" photograph from Kevin Coll, via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Philly" photograph from camardella, via Flickr (Creative Commons).