I am however, always interested in oysters – in their place in the hierarchy of food for humans, and in the ways that fisherfolk and celebrity chefs actually deal with them.
Cookbooks on specific foods did not really start being published in any significant volume until the second half of the nineteenth century. Today I want to give you a few short notes from Oysters à la Mode: The oyster and over 100 ways of cooking it (London, 1888), by Harriet De Salis.
Mrs.De Salis (as she is named in the front matter of the book) happens to answer a few questions I have had about oysters, but was afraid to ask.
What
chronological age of oyster is best to eat?
Answer:
“Real lovers
of oysters maintain that no oyster is worth eating until it is quite two years
old. Their age is known by the shell, just the same as the age of a tree is
known by its bark, or a fish by its scale, and the smaller the oyster the finer
the flavour.”
What is the
ideal serving size?
Answer:
“In former
days a dinner of any pretension always began with oysters, and many of the guests never stopped until
they had swallowed a gross, i.e 144 oysters. The ‘Almanach de Gourmands’(1803)
states that beyond five or six dozen, as a mere indispensable prelude to a
winter déjeuner, it is proved that oyster eating most certainly ceases to be an
enjoyment.’”
What is the
best way to open and eat an oyster?
Answer:
The author
gives two methods here. The first is the traditional way with a blade, and the
technique is described in detail. Speed is of the essence, and once opened it
is vital to ‘lift quickly to the lips,
and eat it before the delicate aroma has dissipated into the atmosphere. There
is as much difference between an oyster thus opened and eaten, as between champagne
frothing and leaping out of the silver-necked bottle, and the same wine after
it has been allowed to stand six hours with the cork removed.
The second method
is most interesting. I have not heard of it previously, have you?
“There is another method of eating oysters,
wherein no knife is required, and not the least skill in opening is needed, the
only requisite being a bright fire. You pick out a glowing spot in the fire,
where there are no flames and no black pieces of coal to dart jets of smoke
exactly in the place where they are not wanted. You then insert a row of
oysters into the glowing coals, taking care to keep their mouths outward and
within an easy grasp of the tongs, and their convexity downwards. Presently a
spitting and hissing noise is heard, which gradually increases till the shells
begin to open and the juice is seen boiling merrily within, the mollusk itself
becoming whiter and more opaque as the operation continues. There is no rule
for ascertaining the precise point at which the cooking is completed, for every
one has his own taste, and must learn by personal experience. A little practice
soon makes perfect, and the expert operator will be able to keep up a continual
supply as fast as he can manage to eat them. When they are thoroughly cooked
they should be taken from the fire, a second batchinserted,
and the still hissing and spluttering mollusks be eaten "scorching
hot." No one whohas not
eaten oysters dressed in this primitive mode has the least idea of the piquant
flavour of which they are
capable. Stewed in their own juice, the action of fire only brings out the full
flavour, and as
the juice is
consumed as well as the oyster, there is no waste and no dissipation of the
indescribable
but potent
aroma.”
The recipe
for the day is, of course, from the book. A nice breakfast dish to break the
monotony of bacon and eggs, or bran and low-fat yoghurt, or whatever is your
regular start to the day.
Oysters and
Bacon (a breakfast dish)
Huitres au Lard.
Fry up some
mashed potatoes in bacon fat, and break them in pieces with a fork, and let
them brown a little more ; cut some thin rashers of bacon and arrange round the
potatoes, which should be piled
up in the
middle of the dish. Broil some oysters in their shells with butter and cayenne,
turn them
out of their
shells and place on the top of the potatoes; garnish with lemon sippets. Ham
may be
used instead
of bacon.
Quotation for the Day.
The most
virtuous thing in nature, according to this new theory, should be the oyster.
He is always at home, and always sober. He is not noisy. He gives no trouble to
the police. I cannot think of a single one of the Ten Commandments that he ever
breaks. He never enjoys himself, and he never, so long as he lives, gives a
moments pleasure to any living thing.
Jerome K. Jerome, ‘The Second Thoughts of an
Idle Fellow’.
4 comments:
Back in the late 1960s, when my parents retired and moved to Florida, we used to go out in the bay and fill up trashcans with oysters. Our way of preparing them was very similar to your second method. We would place the oysters on a grill, over a bed of charcoal, and eat them as the opened and stewed in their own juices. I think these may have been the best oysters that I ever had.
My Dad and my oldest brother always roasted oysters on the grill, somewhat as you describe. Luscious!
My husband won't touch an oyster with a ten foot pole, and I will happily suck them down raw on the halfshell, champagne or no. Of course, if I have a choice, yes please on the champagne!
Hi all. Sorry to be late in replying, but as I may have already said to some of you, I had hand surgery just before Christmas and still have a splint, so am very slow.
I am very intrigued by this ideaof roasted oysters. With Champagne.
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