Canadian Coffee Break: Special All-Oyster Edition
The Canadian Coffee Break brings together some of the finest Canadian minds in Southern California every week for a topical, lively round-tablesque discussion over very dark coffee. Won’t you join us.
EPISODE XVIII: OYSTERS AND YOU
Last night I had half-dozen oysters from Prince Edward Island…..PEI Canada! This week I would like your take on oysters.
- Do you eat them? If so, who does them right in LA, and who does ’em right in Canada?
- If you do not eat them, why not?
- If you do not eat oysters, I still want an oyster-related article. That, or tell me I may well die this week from overoysterage.
The first time I ate an oyster was on Canada Day of 2004, at the home of the Los Angeles Canadian Consul. I rubbed elbows with the rich and famous that day-well, at least I had a few words with then-Nova Scotia Premier John Hamm.
The oyster went down as well as the free wine and Trailer Park Boys t shirt. Then on the way out I found a stray kitten…But that’s another story.
My latest oyster experience was more chilling than the ice said delicacy sat atop. I was on set, working the glamourous job of production assistant, when we had a delicious, catered seafood lunch. Nothing quite like shrimp cooked on a lunch truck, right? When lo and behold, sitting in one of my crewmates’ oysters, was a WORM. Further examination revealed dozens of tiny legs wiggling. A centipede?
Worst lunch ever, man. Screw oysters.
Eww, gross. I think oysters are gross. That having been said, if you are someone who’s very self-conscious, then you might think that I think that you’re gross. That’s only half true. Through my years I’ve learned to “accept” people for who they are and what sort of foods they eat. So, instead of thinking you’re gross, I just know for a fact that your sense of taste is broken.
Was your sense of taste burned in the recent fires?? Was your father murdered in cold blood by an octopus when you were young?? Were you in a car accident and glass went into your mouth and punctured your taste buds??
At the end of the day, I feel bad for you. I’ve lead a nice life – nothing monumental, but nothing horrible – and my taste buds work properly and accurately. I’m sorry that you went through some trauma or pain that caused you to like things such as oysters.
Jose Galvan likes oysters. Jose Galvan is probably 5’6″ with a big chin and I’m pretty sure he’s got the Napoleon Complex. He was always pretty nice to me though. Do you have the Napoleon Complex?? Will you take me to Shakey’s someday for absolutely no reason?? They don’t have oysters there, so I won’t have to feel bad for you.
Here’s the thing – I’m a curious eater, practically omnivorous up until two weeks ago when I decided to abstain from the consumption of red meats. I could produce a list of randoms that I’ve consumed in my 8947 days (approximately) on this fine earth, but I’ll save that for a more pertinent topic. One thing (as far as I can recollect) that I have yet to dive into is the succulent sauce of an oyster shell. I have no beef with mollusks. In fact, I’ve been known to have a natural inclination towards mussels, squid, and octopi when eating at various Asian-influenced eateries. Nonetheless, to this day, I’ve never gone oyster.
Undoubtedly, my days in Canada provided many an ample opportunity. Mind you, back then copious amounts of marijuana smoking may have hastened my curiosity and forced me into neighboring arches of gold. Ah, to be young. I digress… several NA meetings later, I’m a natural drug-free gentleman in my rapidly vaporizing early-20s looking to taste the world and all its fruits, but still, no oysters. No longer than 11 days ago, my ladyfriend and I were dining at a local mod-Sushi eatery when I happened upon the Sunday specials (in days past it had been ’Buy 1 Drink Get 1 Free’… me likey). In chalk was the Sabbath’s sole steal – “Oysters.” I thought to myself, “That sounds about right.” Of course, in accordance with the chivalric norms, I proposed to Ms. Murphy (an actual teacher!), “Should we roll with these oysters or what boo?”
“Have you tried oysters?”
“Not that I can recall.”
“I’m not a fan.”
So went my brief flirtation with the alien world of oysters. Oh and by the way, you may well die this week from overoysterage.
Oh you guys. Tony Bourdain, you are not. What is life without a few risks?