Dear Reader,
It started with a simple question. "Do you like oysters?"
My friend Elle had come to see me in Maine for the 4th of July weekend and we were driving along the coast when we passed a restaurant advertising all varieties of seafood including oysters. Thus the question.
Elle admitted that she had never tried oysters but felt that she probably should. We agreed that it would be awkward to try oysters for the first time while on a date with a refined oyster lover. If one gagged on the slimey blob, one's romantic destiny might be affected. And so we agreed that some night when we were out together we would order an oyster each and find out whether we enjoyed eating them.
The opportunity came sooner than we expected; the restaurant we chose for dinner had a Raw Bar menu. Jayne, the third member of our dinner party had also never eaten oysters, so we ordered half a dozen which were delivered in due course with lemon and horseradish.
Before we began, I gave two reminders "First, make sure you loosen the oyster *before* you try to pour it into your mouth. Second, if it's really terrible, don't spit it into your wine. That would be a waste."
I slipped my first oyster (lemon only) into my mouth and chewed. I confess to being mostly indifferent to the experience. It was like a giant full body clam without the interesting fried exterior. Elle asked if it was gritty and I told her "No. This one wasn't." She tried to tip hers into her mouth only to discover she had forgotten to disconnect the oyster from the shell. Overcoming that, she then discovered hers was considerably more gritty than mine had been. It was clearly not an experience she cared to repeat. However, we both gamely covered our next round with horseradish sauce and swallowed them down.
While Jayne liked the oysters and I didn't mind them, we agreed that we wouldn't go out of our way to eat them. They aren't worth the hassle and price. Elle, on the other hand, swears dramatically that she will never touch an oyster again.
Simple question. Simple answer.
Simply yours,
~~ LeAn
It started with a simple question. "Do you like oysters?"
My friend Elle had come to see me in Maine for the 4th of July weekend and we were driving along the coast when we passed a restaurant advertising all varieties of seafood including oysters. Thus the question.
Elle admitted that she had never tried oysters but felt that she probably should. We agreed that it would be awkward to try oysters for the first time while on a date with a refined oyster lover. If one gagged on the slimey blob, one's romantic destiny might be affected. And so we agreed that some night when we were out together we would order an oyster each and find out whether we enjoyed eating them.
The opportunity came sooner than we expected; the restaurant we chose for dinner had a Raw Bar menu. Jayne, the third member of our dinner party had also never eaten oysters, so we ordered half a dozen which were delivered in due course with lemon and horseradish.
Before we began, I gave two reminders "First, make sure you loosen the oyster *before* you try to pour it into your mouth. Second, if it's really terrible, don't spit it into your wine. That would be a waste."
I slipped my first oyster (lemon only) into my mouth and chewed. I confess to being mostly indifferent to the experience. It was like a giant full body clam without the interesting fried exterior. Elle asked if it was gritty and I told her "No. This one wasn't." She tried to tip hers into her mouth only to discover she had forgotten to disconnect the oyster from the shell. Overcoming that, she then discovered hers was considerably more gritty than mine had been. It was clearly not an experience she cared to repeat. However, we both gamely covered our next round with horseradish sauce and swallowed them down.
While Jayne liked the oysters and I didn't mind them, we agreed that we wouldn't go out of our way to eat them. They aren't worth the hassle and price. Elle, on the other hand, swears dramatically that she will never touch an oyster again.
Simple question. Simple answer.
Simply yours,
~~ LeAn
I think it's an acquired taste [if you have a mind to "acquire" such taste]. Dad took me to the Saratoga Fair when I was pregnant with Greg, and mistakenly bought raw oysters [or was it clams?] I don't think they all got eaten, and we've never had them raw again :o)
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