Rediscovering Oysters

Prior to a few months ago it had been years since I’d had an oyster. So many years in fact that I could not remember how I felt about them.

I was in my early twenties. I was in a bar somewhere (it seems a lot of my stories from my younger years start with “I was in a bar somewhere”) and I noticed this large glass jar filled with water and some form of sea life in a shell, sitting on the bar. I asked the bartender what they were. “Oysters”, I was told.

Now, my memory is not really clear on this, it was a long time ago and I had most likely had a beer or two in, but this is how I recall it. Being young and game for just about anything I said I wanted to try one. A plate, a napkin and a bottle of tabasco sauce were placed in front of me, then the bartender unscrewed the lid of the jar, reached into the somewhat murky water, and removed one of the mollusks. He held it in one hand, then with the other he reached under the bar and came up with what looked like a short bladed dagger with a round, wooden handle. He inserted it into the shell, gave a little twist and the shell popped open. One half of the shell he threw away, the other he laid on my plate.

I’m not sure what I had expected to see but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that. I just stared at it. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. The bartender must have noticed the look of perplexity, and perhaps revulsion, on my face, for he came over and explained to me how to eat it. I put a dash of tobasco on it, as instructed, tipped the shell up to my mouth and sucked out the meat.

I don’t remember what I thought of that particular grog bit but given that I never had another for thirty-five years I’m going to guess I was underwhelmed.

Fast forward to 2023. I was in Halifax, Nova Scotia for a couple of days for a work event. At the end of day-one someone in our group suggested we head to Gahan House for beer and Oysters (Gahan House makes its own craft beer in house), to which the rest of the group agreed enthusiastically. Not wanting to be the loan voice of dissension, nor wanting to be left out and ending up spending the evening alone in my hotel room drinking Woodbridge wine and eating Miss Vickie’s potato chips, again, I got onboard with this idea.

I remembered I’d had oysters ( or rather an oyster ) once before but, as already mentioned, I could not recall how I felt about them. However, given that I had no horrible, nightmare like memories associated with them, as I had with the first time I had an olive (https://lifelunchliterature.com/2020/04/23/if-god-made-anything-more-tasty-than-the-olive-he-kept-it-for-himself/ ) I figured that I was probably good to go.

When it came my turn to order I did like everyone else, I choose a beer from the craft beer menu ( I had the Beach Chair Lager ), and an order of oysters. What arrived at our table was so unlike what I had that long ago day in that now forgotten bar, pulled from that jar of warm, sandy seawater, that I at first thought there had been a mistake. This was not how I remembered oysters. Each order was six oysters on the half shell, resting on a bed of ice in a small wooden tray, and served with lemon, tabasco sauce, seafood sauce, and another condiment that I don’t recall the name of, if I ever knew. All I know was it was all delicious.

I had the first with just a dash of tabasco, a nod to the bartender who served me my first oyster all those years ago. It was so good: cold and salty and absolutely fabulous. I squeezed lemon juice over the other five and tried the seafood sauce, and the other sauce, but my favorite way is still with just a dash of tabasco.

As luck would have it, or perhaps the generosity of the Gods, not a month later I was at the Delta Hotel back home in St. John’s, Newfoundland, attending a networking function, that included food stations set up by a number of local restaurants. And who should one of the food vendors happen to be? You guessed it; Gahan House. And what did they have on offer? Right Again; craft beer and oysters. Sometimes the universe just smiles on you.

Cheers!

Stephen