I’ve mentioned oysters more than once before, and of course they’re currently out of season. But I’m missing them, so thought I’d post the first mention of them from my book, ‘Aphrodisiacs’.
Let’s face it, the oyster is pretty much the daddy of all aphrodisiacs. It’s the first food people think of when they’re asked to come up with one. They also conjure up some pretty mystical and magical feelings, I mean there are very few other foods that have live streaming websites. I kid you not, you really can watch oyster beds live on camera.
But all this oyster-worship is a little odd, since Aphrodite herself is normally shown rising from the sea in a scallop shell, not an oyster shell. It obviously derives all its power from that sympathetic magic, My “E” number 2, the enigma. But there’s not much of an enigma about it, really. I mean they are stacked full of zinc, which is good for the libido, but you’d need to eat about half a ton to make any serious difference. But let’s just be honest from the outset. The oyster looks a bit like certain lady parts, and that moist, slurpy method of eating them that we generally prefer, is just, well, frankly somewhat cunnilingual, if I may just make up an adverb.
Now you can do plenty of things with oysters, but I’m afraid that for my money, you can’t beat them live and raw with just the teeniest splash of tabasco, accompanied by a lovely crisp white wine. Champagne completes the cliché, but I prefer something with fewer bubbles tickling my tonsils, like a Loire-valley Sancerre or Touraine.
We’ve even developed a rude-sounding word for the preparation of this salty, tasty, gooey little bivalve mollusc, and who doesn’t enjoy a damn good shuck? So here’s probably the easiest recipe you’ll read today.
Live Fresh Oysters (half-a-dozen each at least)
For the rash amongst you, perhaps a little lemon juice, tabasco or a light vinegar
Hold the oyster with the cup-shaped shell in the palm of your hand, and the flat shell face-up. Take your flat-bladed stubby shucking knife, or any flat, broad sharp knife. Find the hinge, and work your knife in (just the tip!) between the shells near one of the corners of the hinge. Ease it gently in, and run it all the way around to the other edge of the hinge before tilting the knife to make the hinge ‘pop’. Separate the shells, and run your knife underneath the oyster flesh to sever it from the shell. Be careful not to tip it, or you’ll waste all those yummy juices. Splash on whatever sauce takes your fancy (or don’t), and slurp the whole thing back in one go.