"Kumamoto of Someone's Dreams," photo by {link:http://www.flickr.com/people/98857801@N00/}Jon Rowley{/link}
Oysters spend their lives in the primal ooze that spawns life, filtering flotsam and jetsam, distilling it all down to the essence of their patch of water-soaked earth. Oysters reveal a place like a kiss reveals a person.
My first oyster was a Wellfleet, slurped on the beach near the tip of Cape Cod, and it was astonishing because it was that particular cove, the smell of that tide, the weight of the air slipping across my tongue and down my throat. The recognition was more powerful than my initial gag response, and maybe this is what epicures mean when they refer to the “shock” of a first oyster—that the messages carried in taste sensations can trump gastrointestinal mutiny at the prospect of downing the embryonic inner life of a gnarly old rock.
That shock of recognition is so powerful that diehard oysterists can’t fathom consuming an oyster any way but raw. Any fine oyster can be slurped from the shell and some, like the tiny Olympia oysters from Puget Sound in Washington state, can’t be eaten any other way. They are so tiny that they’d shrivel up and die if you tried to bake, steam, or roast them. They are so subtle that the merest suggestion of heat would reduce them to nothing more than soft pads of inscrutable marine protein.
Olympia oysters, photo by {link:http://www.flickr.com/people/98857801@N00/}Jon Rowley{/link}
In the shell, Olympias are about the size of a fifty-cent piece, and almost as rare. They are sweet and intensely coppery-tasting, the only oyster indigenous to the West Coast of the United States. They were so prized by Gold Rush–era restaurants in San Francisco that they were harvested to the brink of extinction by 1900, except in the finger inlets of Southern Puget Sound. In that area, says Jon Rowley, a former fisherman with an infamous appetite for and an encyclopedic knowledge of Olympia oysters, the oystermen who worked for legislation that allowed private ownership of some tidelands saved the Olympia. Once ownership was established, oystermen could improve the growing areas by building dikes (which retained water and protected the oysters from summer heat) and working to protect their crops from various bacteria, predators, and industrial effluents.
The Olympia oyster is in season from October to May and is at its glory in the coldest months. Purists would decry the sacrilege, but a minuscule drop of juice from a Meyer lemon does something wonderful for the oyster’s flavor. Taylor Shellfish Farms has had great success in cultivating Olympia oysters and ship them beautifully. Taylor also grows black-shelled Kumamoto oysters, a Japanese variety that is buttery and sweet and makes a wonderful contrast to the Olympia on the half shell.
Here’s a quick overview of North American oysters.
And here’s a wonderful sauce for your next tasting:
Bill Taylor’s Soy Mignonette
Olympia, WashingtonThis sauce combines the Asian-influenced flavors of the Pacific Northwest with the traditional vinegary mignonette sauce to create a tart, spicy counterpoint for meaty oysters on the half shell.
- 2/3 cup citrus-seasoned soy sauce
- 1/3 cup finely chopped daikon
- 2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
- 2 dozen oysters, preferably small ones like Kumamoto, on the half shell
In a small bowl, stir the soy sauce, daikon, and ginger together. Top each oyster with 1 teaspoon of the soy sauce mixture and serve on a bed of crushed ice. Serves 6 to 8.
