Here....Have One....

Here.....Have One

Here, have one…. Steamed Oysters…..just the thought of them make some folks lip curl up. “Yuck” ….has also been uttered as I eagerly invade the oyster’s shell in search of that fine and usually slimy juicy morsel. So, with that remark in mind, I proudly display my next find as if to taunt the unbeliever, before I down another small sample of the ocean’s salt laced bounty. Now I have to admit that I, over forty years ago, also turned my head in disgust as my Uncle John said “Here, have one…at Pittsburghs once famous Down-Town Oyster House. It was always our last stop, making the daily rounds at the cities best restaurants picking up the used produce and foodstuffs for his nearby hog farm. Well, after being taunted with remarks like “don’t be a little wimp….real men eat them” did I finally succumb…..keeping a manly smile on the outside , but soon after, making an unnoticed but hasty retreat to the ‘Men’s Room”. It wasn’t until many years later, when my Bride Mary and I “found” the Lowcountry did I again run into my old nemesis, the lowly oyster. We were invited “the invitation said casual” by one of my BEST clients to what I was later to find out, was a South Carolina Lowcountry tradition. ….an oyster roast. “Surely they will also have some Southern fried chicken” I anxiously commented to Mary as I navigated my trusty 74 Chevy pickup down the narrow live oak canopied dirt roads to the May River. Upon arrival we were quickly directed to the main attraction “the roast”. People of all descriptions, dressed in their Levis and sweatshirts congregated around this big old table with steaming oysters piled high in the center. Smoke from the wood fire permeated the cool Spring air and a truly festival mood was prevalent. Right in the middle of all this merriment was Moultrie our host and he didn’t waste any time making room for us. After a few short pleasantries he picked up one of the biggest oysters on the pile and uttered those ominous words “Here, have one…..” It was Pittsburgh’s old Oyster House all over again but this time there could be no excuses…..no place to run. So with unbridled confidence I grabbed that old oyster and with the skill of a surgeon, inserted that oyster knife, cracked open that shell and displayed one of the finest, juiciest oysters I have ever seen. Without dipping it into the available drawn butter I drew it to my lips and with no hesitation, it was down the hatch. What happened in the next few moments, it is said, is when I was truly transformed into Lowcountry Joe®. For some unknown reason, I actually like it....my childhood memories were only a dream and with Mary looking at me as if I had lost it all grabbed another one from the pile. “These May River oysters are the saltiest and best I have ever had”, I told an appreciate Moultrie. I had somehow been reborn. Since then I have been on one of the largest supporters of the camaraderie and hospitality of the traditional Lowcountry oyster roast. Up North I used to crave that first glass of Spring Bock beer….now I crave that first steaming hot oyster washed down with a cold Budweiser in the fellowship of my neighbors and friends. And I am not the only one. Noted writer Pat Conroy, of “Prince of Tides” fame wrote a marvelous article about the “South Carolina Oyster Roast” in a recent edition of Gourmet Magazine. He’s quoted as telling a Daufuskie Island “Local” that “eating a Lowcountry oyster is like tasting heaven”. I wholeheartedly second that Pat, and “Here have one…..”