AfterTaste (by Sherry)

“but answer came there none. And this was scarcely odd because they’d eaten every one!” -Lewis Carroll

I’m so ashamed to admit that for most of my life I’ve kept raw oysters at arm’s length; first despising the very thought of them (age 0-13), then slowly coming to accept their inevitable place in the culinary world (14-21), then eventually eating enough of them to ask myself how I had ever lived without them (22-present)!

I now regularly crave the slippery soft texture of the oyster combined with the salty, ocean-y ”liquor” (brine/oyster juice/whatever you want to call it) of the raw beast. Nyum, nyum.

At the same time I can understand why people would cringe at the thought of a raw oyster. After all it is quite odd looking with its overall squiggy-ness (scientific term, look it up), and its random slippery black and gray bits. That slipperiness that I crave, others may raise a flared nostril at, disgusted by the sheer “raw-ness” that that texture conveys. Plus, when it arrives at your table on that pretty little bed of crushed ice, if everything is as it’s supposed to be, the oysters were, up until very, very recently…alive and kicking (so to speak). Ew. So I understand why people may not like oysters, but everyone should at least give them a try once. And if you won’t, that’s okay. More for me, I say.

Random photo of random oysters! See the gray squiggy bits?

I have to give credit where credit is due. Matt (the boyfriend since January ‘07) really opened my eyes to the wonders of raw oysters. Without ever forcing it down my throat (figuratively or literally), he piqued my curiosity with his enthusiastic oyster slurping (”Damn, this guy really loves sucking down oysters…so I guess they must be good?”). Once I started asking more about them, he slowly introduced me to the ones he particularly enjoyed and why (he’s a big West Coast enthusiast with a solid appreciation for various East Coast varieties as well).

Over 3-4 dinners, spanning a 5-6 month period, he allowed me to try whichever oysters he ordered that time, happily encouraging me to taste and try, albeit in a casual (”eat as many as you want, don’t have any, if you don’t feel like it” type of casual) manner. After that, I was hooked. Watch out cholesterol, here come a dozen oysters a day!

Well, no, not really. If only I could afford it.

There are definite differences between West Coast and East Coast varieties of oysters. Even as a novice, I could spot them right away. Very often West Coast oysters are smaller (but can often be plumper) than East Coast oysters. The shells of the West Coast oysters are spikier and more rough than the East Coast shells. Aside from looks, the tastes also vary greatly. I find East Coast oysters brinier with sometimes a sharply salty bite to them. The West Coast oysters are more mild (what I would recommend for a beginner) with a creamier, smoother taste and texture. I personally have become a West Coast lady myself.

Some East Coast varieties you’ve probably spotted often include Beausoleils, Prince Edward Island, Wellfleets, and Malpeques. Popular West Coast varieties include Hamma Hammas, Malaspinas, and Skookums.

You have to use the tiny fork to loosen the oyster from its shell or else you’ll end up drinking a tablespoon of vinegar with the oyster still hanging onto its former home (been there, done that, not pleasant). Once it’s loosened, some people just swallow the critters whole. Others, like myself, chew first.

How do you take your oysters? They’re often served with cocktail sauce, but I think cocktail sauce is much too flavorful for the delicate taste of oysters. It overpowers their salty flavor. If that’s what you’re after then it’s alright, but then why are you shelling out $2/oyster to eat a shell full of cocktail sauce? It’s a good accompaniment for novice oyster tasters though, I must say (that’s how I got my start). Otherwise, they’re great with just a squeeze of lemon and some mignonette (vinegar, usually red wine, with chopped shallots) or, for a little kick, a dash of Tabasco sauce.