Clacking together like stones, oysters clatter against the sink.
My friend asked for a shucking knife, and I produced a butter knife. She looked at me and laughed.
“I know what I’m getting you,” she says.
I shrug with a chuckle. What can I say? Sometimes, you just have to make do with what you have. It’s either going to work or it’s not. Plus, if we can’t eat them raw, we can always chuck them on the barbecue, which is warming up for the giant steak she brought from a Sonoma area farm. Either way, they’re still going to be tasty.
I purchased this particular dozen through Ancient Peaks Winery alongside a bottle of their sauvignon blanc. Apparently, these are the “small” ones from Morro Bay Oyster Co., which grows Pacific Gold oysters in the bay. They were plucked fresh before being bagged the day we picked them up from the Santa Margarita-based winery.
There’s something special about cracking into an oyster on a warm summer day, while you sit outdoors and sip on a glass of chilled wine. It’s the good life, and it’s even better because these oysters come from Morro Bay and are farmed by locals who work at family-owned companies. And it’s not something you have to go to a restaurant for. They’re easy to prepare and a nice appetizer to get you ready for the fancy meal that will surely follow.
My friend prods the back of the oyster for a small opening to slide the knife between the top and bottom shells. Wiggling the super dull rounded knife I gave her, she moves it up and down until she’s in! We both cheer, and I pass her a steak knife so she can slice the abductor muscle that holds the meat to the shell.
That’s one. Eleven more to go.
As she struggles with the tough job, I slide over to craft something to serve on top of the raw delicacy. Traditionally, if you’re going to eat the little buggers straight out of the shell in their own briny brew, it’s a lemon wedge, cocktail sauce (I prefer Tapatío), or a shallot mignonette.
A mignonette is basically vinegar, a little bit of sugar, and shallots. But I’m feeling spicier than that. We have fresh cilantro, too. So I grab some fish sauce from the cupboard, rice vinegar, brown sugar, Uncle Chen’s chili garlic sauce, shallots, limes, and a splash of the Ancient Peaks sauv blanc to make my weird version of a mignonette-meets-nuoc-cham, a Vietnamese dipping sauce that’s a blend of sweet, savory, and tangy.
Just for kicks, I grab some sesame oil, too. I’m not a real follow-the-recipe kind of person, unless it comes to baking. Vinegar is the base, and I just throw in proportions of this and that and taste as I go until it’s that perfect blend of sour, sweet, salt, and spice.
By the time I finish, five oysters are shucked and waiting. Seven more to go. So I jump in to help and manage to pry one open. She cracks two more, and we end up with eight to plate. Topping them with some fresh microgreens, we pour ourselves a glass of the sauvignon blanc and decide we’ll barbecue the rest until those little shells crack open.
We each slurp down a raw one on its own. They’re salty and sweet, nothing fishy about it. And they’re definitely not what I would call small. Satisfying and fresh, a quick sip of wine finishes off the first taste test. Next up, a spoonful of the mignonette with a dollop of shallots and cilantro for good measure. Nailed it.
Now it’s time for steak salad with roasted carrots, pickled beets, spicy garlic cashews, and the remainder of the mignonette as a dressing. Yep. We nailed that too!
The last time I enjoyed fresh oysters from my back patio, a different friend and I grabbed them from a farmers’ market. Olde Port Fish & Seafood Company parks their trailer full of seafood nabbed fresh from the sea at a number of farmers’ markets in SLO County. Only one of the company’s storefronts is currently open due to the pandemic, and you can find it in Grover Beach.
Olde Port’s oysters come from Grassy Bar Oyster Co., also farmed in Morro Bay. They were a little bit larger than the Pacific Golds, but just as salty and not as sweet. We barbecued those because that particular friend doesn’t care for the texture of a raw oyster.
Barbecuing oysters is pretty easy. You place them over the heat with the round side down, so the meat can cook in its own juices and not dry out. As soon as the shells crack open, you know they’re ready.
I fashioned a similar mignonette for those bad boys—minus the fish sauce and chili, but plus soy sauce. We also decided butter and garlic would be tasty. Because who doesn’t like butter and garlic? I browned some butter before crisping up freshly chopped garlic and adding some smoked paprika.
We sat down to our meal of barbecued oysters and a farmers’ market salad with roasted golden beets and carrots, fresh Central Coast Creamery chevre, and walnuts accompanied by an IPA while taking in the midday sun. They’re slightly chewier than the raw ones and not as slurpy, but the smoke from the barbecue gives them a savory edge, which was perfect with the smoked paprika garlic butter.
Yes, of course, it was good. And super satisfying.
Editor Camillia Lanham recommends you get your oyster on. Send foodie tips to clanham@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Jun 11-18, 2020.