The Oyster of a lifetime
It started with headlamps peering through a pitch black night in the woods, accompanied by the song of boots squishing in the mud and the adjusting of chest waders that barely fit. I was headed to the Evergreen beach with the shellfish club, and the enthusiasm to harvest our own oysters was buzzing through the air. I knew a few of the members from class, but there were many new faces. All the conversations of the hike down revolved around our personal relationships with oysters. I was excited to be amongst fellow oyster lovers and hear from different voices. I was in excellent company, and going to one of my favorite places on earth, the beach I have been forming a harmonious friendship with throughout my past couple months living here. My heart filled with happiness to see the oyster beds nestled on our very own campus beach for the first time. We were told to help ourselves to any of the oysters we saw. Surrounded by happy souls and positive energy, we began to search the ground for the perfect specimens. After picking up a plump one that could still fit in the palm of my hand, I began to shuck. It took a few minutes, and the sound of oyster shells popping open around me was a bit discouraging. At last when I heard that satisfying crack, I gazed at my precious prize with affection and admiration. I held it to my nose and took a long breath in, its smell distinctly reminding me of the brisk mist off the water when I hiked down to the water on weekend mornings. I smiled, then tilted its shell back to let the smooth oyster slide into my mouth and form to the curve of my tongue. Letting it float for a moment, I basked in the flavor, savoring the place I love so dearly through the treasured oyster it had created. I chewed it ever so longingly, relishing in its extreme creaminess and sweet, fruity top notes, and when I finally swallowed, I felt a shiver of satisfaction run through my body. I was invigorated, enchanted by the moment in time that the product of this place had been directly consumed by me. Harvesting, shucking, and eating my own oyster from a place I love, surrounded by other passionate oyster-eaters, was a feeling of liveliness that I will never forget.
Written by: Mazzy Lattery