Above: You had me at hello… The oven-roasted gulf oysters at Cochon in New Orleans, in February 2009.
Reading The New York Times this morning as I munched my quesadilla (topped with “casera” salsa by Herdez, which, btw, you must look for in a can as opposed to jar, because it just tastes SO much better), I found myself entirely mesmerized by the “domino effect of lives touched” described in this article and I couldn’t help but remember my first gulf oyster (above), masticated in New Orleans not long after I moved to Texas, back in February 2009.
Will it be my last?
Above: Before the BP oil spill, it was common to serve endless raw gulf oysters at crawfish boils and other summer gatherings. This year, it’s not.
Gulf oysters are in short supply these days in the wake of the oil spill and subsequent catastrophe but I trust and hope they will rebound. Check out the Times article. It’s fascinating… My favorite passage:
- And yes, the captain eats oysters. Using a short knife, he pops the seal of a just-harvested oyster with safecracker élan, makes a cut, and slurps the wild goop down.
Buon weekend, ya’ll!