A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN OYSTER part 1
A Perfect Food
“I had my first oyster. Now, this was a truly significant event. I remember it like I remember losing my virginity — and in many ways, more fondly.” ― Anthony Bourdain, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, 2000
I see you sitting there, glowing from too much Rosé. You slurp a pearl of meat and brine from a craggy shell. The flesh is cool and soft and textured ever so slightly. You chew and consider. Perhaps close your eyes for a moment, the best way to enjoy the bite. Curl your toes if you like, no one will know. Flavors develop as you chew: sugar, seaweed, ocean water. You wash the briney-sweet liquor down with a sip of whatever happens to be in a glass in front of you. You get that subtle ocean breath across your palate, mingling with whatever you just drank. You are not full yet, after all, you’ve only had six bites. You only feel refreshed, and your palate is stimulated. You are ready for whatever else your meal will offer, as well as the rest of the night. Ah, the joys of eating the oyster. You want more, and you should be satiated. Order another dozen, why don’t you?
Whether near the coasts, or further inland, dining establishments gleefully serve oysters. It is one of the most ubiquitous foods from the ocean. I have known it to be a polarizing food, but those who love it do so with a passion. There’s a reason it tends to live near the top of the menu: it’s a perfect way to begin a meal. An oyster is bracingly refreshing and salty, a sip of cold ocean which prepares one for the meal to come. Best of all, it is an immensely satisfying experience without weighing you down like an anchor. You can put away a dozen of the things and still feel stimulated and ready for a generous meal.
Of course a chef loves the oyster. It is popular and will surely sell. It can impress in the way that few other foods can. Many luxury items require a bit of gussying up to really appreciate. At the very least, they deserve some creative reflection on the part of the cook. The oyster defies these rules. It is a pure thing and should not be monkeyed with. It is such an undiluted expression of the sea that you want to be able to taste every moment of its gustatory delights. Maybe a splash of Mignonette sauce or a drop of lemon will accentuate the oyster properly, but really you don’t have to do anything to it. Well, that’s not entirely true. You have to shuck it properly. It requires a touch of finesse to ensure that the oyster is free of grit, looks beautiful and is ice, ice cold. That being said, an oyster is an oyster, shuck it properly, keep it cold and you are done. It’s simple. It shows confidence and understanding of seafood. An individual who can select a beautiful specimen, avoid messing it up, respect its subtlety of flavor and appearance is deserving of some respect at the very least. The admiration of friends, family, and discerning gourmands can be yours if you take the time to shuck an oyster and let it be itself.