As I’m guessing is the case for most Mainers, I’d never been tempted by those signs with a line of lobster rolls that have been popping up in front of Irving stations in recent summers, advertising its Claw Club, a membership to which earns you a free lobster roll after you buy five.

Getting a lobster roll at a gas station convenience store, especially a chain, just seemed wrong, and the idea of anyone eating six of them in a lifetime made it even more unappealing for some reason.

But when I finally saw them inside the Irving’s Rusty Lantern Market, I had to admit, they didn’t look bad — fresh and chock full of meat that made it seem worthy of the $19.99 price tag (or $16.66 each, if you buy six). It made me wonder, if it’s in Maine, right by the source of the same lobster that’s served at high-end seafood restaurants and the world’s most sought-after shacks — where they’re at least $5 and often $15 more — why shouldn’t it be just as good?

After all, lobster rolls are about as basic as it gets and theoretically hard to mess up. On the other hand, with each component playing such a crucial role, the texture of the bun, the amount of mayo and any use of seasoning all need to be just right in order not to detract from the star ingredient.

This summer, I’ve also noticed more marketing around Hannaford’s $9.99 lobster roll, which only started appearing in stores last year, according to the Scarborough-based company. At a time when good deals have been difficult to find, it seemed too good to be true, until I saw the gloppy looking, pink-hued filling that probably should be labeled lobster salad, like Market Basket’s $8.99 pair of finger rolls.

Lobster roll prices seem to have come down from a pandemic-era spike (when a 4.5-ounce standard roll from the renowned Beal’s in Southwest Harbor was $41.99 and is now $34.99). Still, in light of how expensive eating out has gotten in general, it felt like the right time to find out if these cheaper versions of lobster rolls might do the trick to satisfy what I believe is a seasonal obligation for anyone who lives in Maine.

First, I tried Market Basket’s scoop of mushy lobster salad in a squishy roll, something you could easily eat without teeth, but that almost broke one of mine when I bit into a piece of shell. There was little flavor aside from a hint of lobster that was fishy in the way that makes you slightly concerned about how your day is going to unfold. (The Massachusetts-based company didn’t respond to questions about its lobster roll and where it’s sourced.) It was edible but no substitute for the real thing.

Hannaford’s, however, surprised me. Though it was mostly a smooth mixture of mayonnaise and lobster (each roll with 5 ounces of meat, sourced from the North Atlantic, between Maine and New Brunswick), there were a decent number of lobster chunks, and it was seasoned in a way that enhanced the flavor. The thin bed of lettuce didn’t detract from that either and succeeded in keeping the bun intact. My only complaint is that the sweetness of the brioche bread overpowered the lobster a little. But if I was craving a lobster roll while watching my wallet, I’d get it again.

Last was Rusty Lantern’s, and it indeed delivered a healthy portion of pure lobster meat (all from Maine, though the Brunswick-based company wouldn’t say how much per roll) with what actually might have been too little mayonnaise. The roll comes with a pickle and a lemon wedge, which I didn’t use because the sandwich already smelled and tasted strongly of citrus, though there was little flavor otherwise. The meat was fresh and the bun was toasted, but despite the lettuce barrier, it had gotten somewhat soggy.

This is a pretty legit lobster roll, and definitely impressive for a gas station, but since it’s still an expensive lunch, I’d opt to make the extra splurge and get one made to order from a seaside shack instead.

But I only require one or two lobster rolls a year. For someone who can’t get enough of them, joining the Claw Club doesn’t seem so outrageous anymore.