Tuesday, September 29, 2009

“I prefer my oysters fried; That way I know my oysters died.”

I wholeheartedly disagree with you Roy Blount, Jr.

A few weeks back, Ruth and I ended our day early and had a two o'clock gin break with a bacchanalian feast of raw oysters. How did I grow up with a father who raked up and sold these bi-valves for a living, and I am JUST now falling desperately in love? If only I wasn't (half) allergic to shellfish.

There's an oyster farm we go to where you can see out yonder window to the harvest "field":

4 comments:

Mrs. Smith said...

I can't wait to return!

ANZELINA said...

I just have to tell you, Nathaniel and I had some fried oysters the other night. The batter was delicious but a hot slimy oyster was not really up my alley. Pretty much wanted to barf. Plus this nasty brown liquid squirted out of it when you bit into it.

Have fun with all the innuendos you can decipher from that comment!

Daniel-Halifax said...

ha!

-bats lashes-

i wouldn't now what you mean?

Carrick said...

Did I ever tell you about the restaurant near my parents PEI house where they serve the best pan fried oysters, and your waitress is a descendant of Ms. Montgomery...tho I like them best when picked from the bay and eaten raw.