It’s a maxim that I’ve repeated many times: The better foods are the simpler foods. Case in point?
Oyster’s aren’t much to look at. On their best days they look like something an oncologist removes from a body.
So no one’s going to vote them as prom queen…or king. It’s their taste that makes men weep and throw women into the throes of culinary passion.
Their preparation? Well, you open their shell, and give it a dash of soy, miso, or tabasco. It you’re really in a good mood, you may through a tad bit of a scallion on top.
But really? With oysters, less is more.
The best part of eating oysters is how interactive they are. Eating oysters goes against everything that we were taught as children. No spoon nor fork is needed, only the ability to pick up the half shell and then slurp.
There’s a bit of sea water brine to the taste, and my preference is that there should be equal amount brine taste as there is taste to the oyster. One should be dominate, but should work in concert.
Of course this means that one should get their oysters were pollution is not much of an issue. There are several bays in the Pacific Northwest, both above and below the Canadian border that provide this environment. Yet there are also places that should be avoided.
The meat of the oyster can be both earthy and sweet. Mixed with the saltiness of the brine, it becomes the perfect combination of salty, sweet, and savory. All of this in one little oyster.
Some who have studied history have stated that oysters were likely one of the first meats to be harvested by humans. And it seems that we’ve been trying to replicate the effect of their taste ever since.