oysters, a short story
Eating an oyster is truly an experience.
It should never be rushed, but instead enjoyed slowly — taking a moment to savour it… If you can get past its appearance.
I had my first oyster at the age of 13, after seeing it countless times on TV and watching hosts and presenters thoroughly enjoy it while describing its taste. I must have begged my mum and dad because I really wanted to try it, and as their daughter, they eventually gave in and bought me one from Wing Yip in Croydon.
It didn’t look normal, mainly because my dad got me a HUGE one. Not the cute, dainty, flat ones… but something that looked like an actual rock with jagged edges. It looked lethal and, no joke, very intimidating.
He shucked it with a small knife and gave me this slimy, kidney-looking object in a rice bowl (don’t ask). Instead of lemon, he gave me a squeeze of lime, which confused me, and then told me not to chew it but to swallow it whole. It was the size of a whale’s snot — it was humongous! I must have gulped, taken my fork and poked at it, terrified, and then taken the plunge.
I took the entire thing, chewed it once, and swallowed it whole.
And oh my god… I gagged, and maybe puked a little.
I don’t think I touched an oyster again until I was in my 20s.
I don’t remember how I got into it again, but I knew it was a work in progress — something I really wanted to enjoy, and eventually, I did.
There’s something so elegant about an oyster. When shucked fresh, it should smell like the ocean on a cold morning, never fishy. The natural oyster juice, also known as the liquor, should be clear and plentiful, and the flesh, glossy and plump.
Depending on where it comes from, an oyster can taste bright, salty, sweet, creamy, buttery, or mineral-forward — sometimes even like wet stones. Any oyster can be a surprise, and that’s why I find them so enjoyable...like eating a little adventure.
A squeeze of lemon helps to brighten it up; a lovely mignonette adds acidity with a punchy yet crunchy texture; and a few drops of Tabasco bring warmth without overpowering the oyster’s natural sweetness.
A visit to Richard Haward’s Oyster at Borough Market is always a must — as are any stalls selling oysters at farmers’ markets or street food markets.
A trip to Moxon’s Fishmonger (South Kensington) is always a pleasure, especially as I’ve become a regular. They’ll shuck a couple of oysters for me, which I enjoy with a dab of their preserved hot lemon sauce.
The Green Bar at Hotel Café Royal with Claire was rather memorable. Rock oysters topped with ginger, soy, chilli, crispy shallots, and maybe a touch of ponzu. Paired with a glass of champagne, it was delightful.
And let’s not forget the happy-hour £1-an-oyster deals that many restaurants offer — you’ll never see me complaining, and you’ll definitely see me seated somewhere, enjoying a dozen with friends or alone.
What began as curiosity at the age of 13 grew into appreciation and enjoyment in my adulthood. A moment with oysters taught me to slow down, to savour the moment, and to trust that taste can change with time.
God, I love an oyster.