Oysters
At the ritzy parties on Nantucket there are always raw bars. That means a big old boat brimming with ice, with three salty salty old men (usually including one named Spanky) jabbing blunt knives into the shells and opening the oysters and clams right in front of you. Condiments like horseradish, cocktail sauce, lemons, and the deliciously named mignotte are on the side, old metal baskets sit below waiting for the shells. If I can casually break out of conversations, I station myself in front of the boat, and toss back as many as possible. They taste like the sea contained to me–salty, crisp, ineffably light. Loved this drawing on Joel Holland’s door, seen over on design*sponge.
3 Comments
Annie
We need to eat some oysters together soon!!!
Eby
I wish I liked raw oysters. They’re everywhere here. Bistros will tape up printer paper with hastily typed “Rock Oysters Here!!” as if it’s a sell-off of the newest Apple product. Lines form. Neighbors bond. And I continue on to the bakery to buy a muffin.
Rachael
I don’t think I’ve ever seen New Zealand oysters on the menu. Do you think it’s too far to fly them? Good reason to visit…