I was having a less than enthusiastic attitude about oysters. Though I love ALL other shellfish, I must admit, I have never eaten an oyster. This poem inspired me to embrace the little guys I was preparing:
The Oyster (author unknown)
There once was an oyster
Whose story I tell,
Who found that some sand
Had got into his shell.
It was only a grain,
But it gave him great pain.
For oysters have feelings
Although they’re so plain.
Now, did he berate
The harsh working of fate
That had brought him
To such a deplorable state?
Did he curse at the government,
Cry for election,
And claim that the sea should
Have given him protection?
No – he said to himself
As he lay on a shell,
Since I cannot remove it,
I shall try to improve it.
Now the years have rolled around,
As the years always do,
And he came to his ultimate
Destiny – stew.
And the small grain of sand
That had bothered him so
Was a beautiful pearl
All richly aglow.
Now the tale has a moral;
For isn’t it grand
What an oyster can do
With a morsel of sand?
What couldn’t we do
If we’d only begin
With some of the things
That get under our skin.
The first challenge was finding fresh oysters in the southern California desert. Our upscale grocery store had them! Now I had to get the little suckers open. My husband thought he had an oyster shucking knife. It was nowhere to be found. Three knives later, we found one that did the trick. (Luckily we only made a dozen, or it could have gotten ugly!)
The preparation was simple. Fill a baking dish with rock salt or clean pebbles so the cleaned oyster shells will stay in place. Each full half shell, of the is sprinkled with bread crumbs, pepper, fresh parsley, and a few drops of olive oil. They are baked in a very hot oven for a few minutes, then squeezed with a lemon. I did taste one, and Brad enjoyed the rest!