Yes, oysters. Raw. Aphrodisiacs. Boogers of the sea. Those oysters.
A few weeks ago I went to Boston and attended the Luna Film Festival at the Liberty Hotel. It was a fabulous, inspiring evening and I was lucky enough to be able to attend the event. I ended up spending the night at the hotel and took advantage of the wonderful restaurant inside, Clink. I had it in my head that I must try oysters, so I hesitantly ordered four.
About 10 minutes later, four oysters arrived on a half shell with an herb flecked sauce. I sprinkled (and by sprinkle, I mean covered) the oyster with the sauce and coyly put it to my mouth. Then, I pulled it away. I played that game with the oyster for roughly five minutes before I finally decided to just do it. I begrudgingly slurped the oyster and felt it slide down my throat like butter.
I grabbed the second oyster and decided to eat it without any sauce. It went down, as the first did, like butter. Briny, cold, slightly sweet butter. It was the kind of food experience that teases the senses, leaves you only slightly unsatisfied, and makes you want just a little bit more.
The rest of the dinner was filled with crisp rosé wine, doughy bread and perfectly seared scallops, but the best part was by far those oysters. I have vowed that whenever I'm at a restaurant that offers them, I will order at least a half dozen. Then probably a dozen more.