Casanova was a scoundrel. He was a scalawag, banned from Venice and disqualified from a career with the Church. He scammed rich and poor alike at every turn. And he was a lawyer. Yet, if he were to make a few appearances between now and November, he might get elected president. For despite all his failings, or maybe because of them, Giovanni Giacomo Casanova knew how to make the ladies smile. By his own account in his famous History of My Life, he canoodled with 122 or so lovelies, from nuns to noblewomen. Though some think gossip fueled much of the reputation that made him such a titillating figure in Europe’s eighteenth-century society, many more pore over his multi-volume memoirs looking for the secret to his amorous success. These Casanovitiates try to emulate his behavior in hopes of getting similar results. Of course, to truly follow his lead, they’d have to squander fortunes, be imprisoned in numerous European cities, lie, cheat, steal, and eat at least fifty raw oysters a day. To some, it is the latter that is most reprehensible.
Throwing back more than a dozen raw oysters before every meal was de rigueur for Casanova. Some of his most pleasurable memories have him eating them in the bathtub (not by himself, of course). Could this be the secret to his potency? Ever since Aphrodite, the goddess of Love, sprang forth from the sea foam on an oyster shell, giving us Eros, oysters have been known as an aphrodisiac. In this day and age, the era of Viagra and the Penis Enlargement Patch, it seems almost too easy to just suck down a few oysters and have a roll in the hay. But perhaps slippery things aren’t for beginners. Quite possibly, they’re advanced cuisine and meant only for those serious about the arts of eating and love.
To quote Jonathan Swift, “He was a bold man that first ate an oyster.” It seems astonishing that someone could find along the shore an object that looks like a rock, pry it open, and think the viscous contents fit to eat. The first connoisseurs had to be the Romans, who were so passionate for the bivalves that they sent scores of slaves to gather them from the English Channel and paid their weight in gold. Aristotle first tried to understand how they bred in 320 B.C., when he described their spontaneous generation. While oysters do have gender, they may change their sex a few times throughout their life. An oyster releases “spat,” which must attach itself to a fixed object like a rock, tree roots, or pilings in order to grow into another oyster.
The old oyster code declared that one should never eat an oyster in a month without an r, namely May through August. Whether that was because of natural breeding schedules or poor refrigeration in hot months, it’s no concern now. Today’s farming techniques and health codes allow us to slurp oysters all year long.
There are three general classifications of oysters: Atlantic, Pacific, and Olympia. Within each classification are hundreds of varieties named for the specific waters in which the members of the Ostreidae family grow. As oysters filter their surrounding waters, they take on properties of the area. An oyster grown in Chincoteague Bay will have different flavors from one grown near Pine Island.
Atlantic oysters are also generally known as Blue Points. To many, they provide the quintessential oyster experience. The cold waters of the eastern seaboard lend a clean, salty taste and firmer flesh, best for eating raw. Good bets include Malpeque, with its bright flavor and crisp lettuce finish, and Belon, with a lemony flavor and zingy aftertaste. Also look for Tatamagouche, Glidden Point, Caraquet, and Wellfleet.
Pacific oysters can grow to be twelve inches long and end up as quite a mouthful. But their meat is creamier and mellower than that of their Atlantic brethren and, in some varieties, quite delicate. Totten, Malaspina, and Little Skookum are all great. Plump, smoky, and a touch sweet, Hog’s Island is the most flavorful of the West Coast oysters. Kumamoto should be every oyster virgin’s first. Small and easy to handle, it’s buttery with a fruity finish.
The Olympia is in a class of its own. Native to the Pacific Coast, it naturally grows in Puget Sound. Although small in stature, rarely exceeding two inches, the Olympia has a firm texture and salty, metallic taste. Now let’s face it, it’s the texture that’s scary. (But if you liken it to snot, you should be slapped. Grow up.) Yet there are other things you put in your mouth that, if you think about it, are far more disgusting. Some people are unsure about how to eat an oyster—tilt it back or use a fork, to sauce or not to sauce, and do you chew? Just remember, there is nothing sexier than confidence. Pick up the half shell. You may want to loosen the meat a bit with a fork, but don’t dump out the water. Do a nice, brief squeeze of lemon, bring the shell to your lips, and tip it in. Close your eyes. Think of the ocean and chew your oyster a few times before letting it slip down. Dare to taste the metallic tinge on your tongue and the cucumber in the finish. Do not “shoot” the oyster.
Knowledge is the base of true confidence, and Kitchen Window in Uptown offers classes with Chef Rick Kimmes of Oceanaire, who is a true oyster addict. Now you are ready to get a table with your baby at the romantic and alluring Lurcat. Order a couple of trays, confidently choosing a selection of East and West Coast varieties, and know that not only is it a fun thing to do with your mouth, but oysters contain a lot of zinc, phosphorus, and iodine, which are conducive to stamina. Go, you scalawag!
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