Every oyster lover begins as a neophyte – or a spat, as baby oysters are called. Perhaps you find yourself at an oyster-centric work party. Or maybe you have a friend with a thing for bivalves.
More likely, you’re on a Tinder date.
Yes, Tinder oyster dates are a thing. Take it from Gary McCready, shucker at Philadelphia’s Sansom Street Oyster House and shucker about town for Garces Catering. “Tinder dates galore. Hello! I’ve been so many people’s cupid,” he muses, noting the oyster’s reputation as an aphrodisiac. “It’s kind of a break-the-ice sort of thing. Get somebody else involved. Get conversation happening.”
But what if your oyster intel is limited? Here, McCready shares tips for the first-timer that will have you savoring these briny treasures with the best of them. “If you’re trying oysters, you’re already pretty adventurous. Half the battle is just stepping up to the plate.”
It may not be the path to romance, but hey, you never know. As the adage from poet Léon-Paul Fargue goes: “Eating an oyster is like kissing the sea on its lips.”
Start with a geography lesson
Oysters convey a taste of place like few foods. Filter feeders, they take in roughly 50 gallons of water a day, rich with minerals, phytoplankton and salt. Oyster farmers call the resulting flavor merroir. (A riff on terroir, the term was coined by a food writer for The Seattle Times in 2003.) When you taste an oyster in its brine, you get a window into a specific maritime world.
- East Coast: From the Chesapeake to Prince Edward Island, most East Coast oysters are the same species, Crassostrea virginica. Yet, oyster farmers tease out a range of flavors and shapes. Generally, these are brinier than their West Coast counterpoints, McCready says – but exceptions are the rule. A stateside version of the French Belon is also grown in Maine, the European Flat.
- West Coast: Expect plump, sweet, softer meats. A range of species is grown here, including Olympias, Pacifics and small, sweet Kumamotos, whose meats can be pillow-like in texture. Unlike briny east-coasters, expect cucumber or “melon-forward” flavors, with a metallic zap.
- Gulf Coast: These fast growers are mild and sweet, washed by waters from the Mississippi.
Let your shucker guide you
Gary McCready of Sansom Street Oyster House in Philadelphia — Photo courtesy of Bondfire Media Relations
At an established spot like Philadelphia’s Oyster House, options will span coasts. Your shucker can help you navigate.
“I’ve given many-a-person their first oyster. Talk to your shucker if you can. Get their picks. They see the orchestra of oysters throughout the year,” McCready explains. First, he suggests sweet, west and small. “As they get braver, I’ll move them on to the more pungent, oceanic, in-your-face, take-you-there oysters.”
Think seasonally
Modern techniques have rendered the only-eat-oysters-in-months-with-an-R rule largely obsolete, but flavors evolve. As winter approaches, oysters fatten up on glycogen to survive cooler temps. In the summer, they go gamey and wither after spawning.
Your shucker will know what’s at peak. “In December, oysters are as fat as can be,” McCready says. “They’re holding on to all of those reserves to get them through.”
Feast with your eyes
Savoring oysters begins with the eyes — Photo courtesy of Bondfire Media Relations
When your platter arrives, admire your oysters. Farmers spend an incredible amount of time crafting their poetically named bivalves, sometimes up to four years. McCready says oysters should appear plump, full and a little glossy (perfect for Insta captures). It’s also customary to place the shells upside down so that you can admire them after you eat.
Go undressed
The best way to taste an oyster is the simplest: unadorned, in the brine in which it was grown. This showcases an oyster’s unique character. From there, experiment. “Try it naked first, and then after that have fun,” McCready says.
But whatever you do, preserve the brine. “You can’t say anything, but I cringe when I see people dumping the liquor out. I’m like no! It took so long to get that in there!”
Savor the swirl
One of the reasons why it’s good to have well-chucked oysters is to savor the initial mouthfeel, McCready explains. “You don’t need a fork. Right up to the mouth. Right up to the bill of the oyster and throw it back. Then let the air in. It’s like wine. Get those flavors to open.”
Properly shucked, the oyster will be separated from the shell, but otherwise intact. As you bite down (do it), sugars from the meat swirl into the brine. To McCready, that’s bliss. Speaking of, the occasional shell fleck can happen, but a mouthful means you are dealing with an inexperienced shucking team.
Become a regular
Freshly shucked oysters on the half shell at Sansom Street Oyster House — Photo courtesy of Jason Varney
As a shucker gets to know you, they can guide you toward your next oyster romance, helping you locate your favorite points on the map. “Let’s talk about flavor. Let’s talk about seasonality. Let’s talk about regions,” McCready says of the shucker’s muse. “Once you try it, you’re opened up to a whole new world of possibilities and experiences.”
As many an oyster fan will tell you, that first bivalve can be the gateway to a lifelong passion.
McCready’s current top pick is a PEI Pickle Point. “Bolder, colder-water oysters are like couch-potatoes. They sit deep down and take on flavors over time,” he says. “It’s the umami factor. I want it to linger and that’s what those do. You take a sip of wine and put it all together? Get out of here.”
Above all: Have fun
The best oyster bars have a come-one, come-all vibe. “Raw bars are supposed to be loose and joyous. Loud. Boisterous. You’ll see shells over here. Shells over there. People really get going,” McCready says. That makes his job fun.
Oysters are, after all, celebratory – so even if you see oyster geekery in your future, don’t forget to tip back your shell and have a good time.
PS: If you’re in Philly, look for McCready behind your favorite raw bar. And always tip your shucker!