BABY’S FIRST OYSTER
Words by Amanda Strother. Photos by Brett Warnock.
The author, tableside at the old Jacqueline location.
THE APPROACH
The 6pm sun was blazing down on me, the bus was due in nine minutes, and I was googling “how to eat an oyster.” Were they already loose in their little shells or would I have to pry them out with that tiny spoon? Would they even give me a tiny spoon? What if they were not pre-loosened and I sat in the restaurant tipping my head as far back as it would go, an oyster not dropping into my mouth, and everyone in Jacqueline oyster bar knew that it was my first time? Would the imaginary onlookers prefer that I squeezed the lemon wedge over all of the oysters immediately or that I doled out one drop at a time, blessing each one just before I (somehow) slurped it down? Would I even like it?
Understanding that there was a possibility I would dislike these squidgy, slimy, sometimes gritty, little aliens—I got on the bus.
Happy Hour!
ATMOSPHERE AND ANXIETY
Jacqueline was packed. It became clear to me immediately that this was a date spot, or a chic place to take visiting family and friends—and I was alone, wearing jean shorts and hiking sandals. Nowadays, oysters are considered more of a delicacy—raw oysters in particular are not a popular food for people to consume outside of classy dinners and stylish happy hours. In the timeline of oyster consumption this is a relatively new way to think of them, but it is the dominant narrative I’d grown up with and I was all too aware that this was not a meal that was normally in my working class rotation.
After doing a lap around the block to work up the courage to go in alone I sat briefly on a bench at their entrance while they got a spot at the bar ready for me. Though the patrons looked stylish, summery, and classy drinking their chilled white wine, I noticed that the staff was decidedly less dressy. I felt my anxiety lessen as I watched a waitress in a purple tie-dyed top pour water at a table; fully relaxed into my seat next to the oyster bar when I noticed that the person in front of me (doing what appeared to be inventory) was wearing a Sizzle Pie t-shirt.
A dozen oysters. (From a follow-up visit.)
RITUAL AND CHOICE
I decided a dozen oysters was a lot to commit to blindly and went for a sensible half dozen; the waitress’s suggestion of the shucker’s choice spared me from admitting I didn’t even know there were different types of oysters I could have chosen from. The gorgeous little platter was set in front of me and I nodded along eagerly as I was told the names of the 3 types in front of me (an hour later when I admitted that I did not remember then, the waiter kindly told them to me again). Alongside my new little friends whose names escaped me, I was given two lemon wedges and FIVE adorable dropper bottles—one filled with hot sauce, one with a traditional mignonette, and four with house-infused vinegars—to decorate them as I saw fit.
Getting to be hands-on in the process made it special and divine. In the same way that the lick of salt and the finish of lime make a tequila shot more enticing than the liquors that don’t have a fun little routine, squeezing the lemon over each oyster and selecting which vinegar I would pair it with felt intentional and slow and delightfully engaging.
“Reader: I loved the oysters. I loved the ritual. I love to customize each bite. I loved the fresh salty flavor and the texture of them as I bit down. ”
Five choices for zhuzhing up your oysters.
OYSTER FARMING AND SUSTAINABILITY
My favorites by far were called Baywater Indigos! These oysters with a slightly sweet aftertaste are raised by Baywater Shellfish Company in Thorndyke Bay, Washington. Baywater grows this variety at the entrance to the Hood Canal alongside Washington’s first commercial kelp farm, Blue Dot Sea Farms. These delightful and delicious little bivalve creatures I had experienced for the first time are pros at recycling waste in the water, and the people who grow them are championing the benefits of oyster farming alongside wildly sustainable kelp aquaculture. Oysters thrive in the cold waters of the Pacific Northwest, and there is a growing opportunity to ensure that the practice of farming them is as beneficial as possible to the Pacific coast; introducing more macroalgae into aquatic farming may create a symbiotic relationship that encourages nourished oysters through the deacidification of our waters.
So contemplate the health of our bays and oceans over a platter of oysters grown by people who care and sold by a restaurant who encourages these local bivalve farmers.
Two olives, please.
“My hint: the experience is best paired with enthusiasm and a dirty martini.”
Thank you for your patronage.