Bellying up to the bar
I never cared much for oysters when I was a youngster but I was always intrigued at how my father and his friends would sit around and shuck them while talking “man talk.” Always outside in the cold and sometimes around the fire, the men would reach into the burlap bags and crack open the shells while swapping stories sometimes seasoned with words that would make me blush. It seemed OK to talk that way around the oyster bags. I couldn’t imagine how the men could slide those slimy bivalve mollusks down in mid sentence as if they actually enjoyed eating them. .
I fondly remember wading in California Bayou in East Bay with my Dad looking for oysters. He had an oyster knife and a bottle of Tabasco in his shirt pocket and would find an oyster, open it, drop a little Tabasco on it, then slurp it out of the shell. Knowing my curious disgust he said, “They’re better when they’re alive.” Had I not been having so much fun, it would have made me sick.
But that all changed a few years later when my small, but elite group of friends wandered into an oyster bar in Springfield to coax me into trying one. I admit that it was the lure of a cold beer that got me in the door but the more I watched my friends and the other patrons enjoying themselves, I finally decided to try one. That was more than a million oysters ago.
Other than fried chicken, an oyster is now my favorite comfort food.
Finding an authentic oyster bar is getting harder to do.
Hunt’s Oyster Bar in St. Andrews is considered a land mark. The old restaurant moved down the street, burned, moved again, then rebuilt in the same general area but the atmosphere provided by the old bar, which opened in 1966, is gone. The walls were adorned with hundreds of autographed dollar bills which had discolored through the years. It was old world classic and I honestly believe it made the oysters taste better given such a tacky look. It was impossible to under dress in the old bar.
The new bar and restaurant still sells quality oysters and seafood and is still run by the same great family. They do oysters right.
One of my favorite bars is Gene’s in Millville. It is by far the oldest oyster bar in Bay County, opening in 1935, and is a great place to get very fresh oysters and a little insight and knowledge into the happenings around town. It is kind of like an old time barber shop where fish tales and local gossip go down as quickly as the Apalachicola Oysters.
It is hard to put my finger on the ambiance but it has a definite old Florida feel and a place where everyone seems automatically at home. And, of course, Gene is a legend in the Oyster business. His place is the “Cheers” of oyster bars. Everybody knows your name. If the light is on at Gene’s, it is show time.
A few years ago, one of my reporters overheard me say that I was going to Gene’s for lunch. She was eager to go with me because she wanted some oysters also. I later found that she had never eaten an oyster which surprised me since she was from Hawaii. I figured she was an expert at shell fish and all things seafood.
When Gene shucked the first oyster, she took a tooth pick and began tearing the oyster apart.
“What are you doing,” I barked.
“I am separating the intestines from the meat,” she replied.
“Stop that before you make me sick,” I demanded.
She had turned that poor oyster into soup. I asked Gene to bake her dozen which she gulped down and truly enjoyed. He topped them with garlic and butter.
I told her that raw oyster eaters don’t want to be reminded that we are eating brains, intestines, and reproductive organs. We simply glance at the oyster on the cracker to make sure it’s the right color, then cover it with ketchup or hot sauce to hide it, take a quick whiff when it passes close to the nose, and slide it down without much chewing.
“Don’t ever dissect an oyster in front of me again,” I ordered. Lord, that girl had no oyster manners at all.
When I moved to the Sand Hills a few years ago, I spent a lot of time in Hilda Miller’s Oyster Bar in Southport. The widening of highway 77 forced Hilda to close her place since the new highway took up most of the parking. I always admired Hilda because if the oysters were not freshly caught or not salty, she simply locked the doors. She never met a bad oyster she liked and insisted that her customers get the very best. Plus, her bar was a shrine to Bobby Bowden. She has an eye for great oysters and great football coaches.
Boy, do I ever miss that oyster bar. The long drive home in the winter is not the same without stopping by for a quick dozen oysters.
Who says progress is a good thing? Had D.O.T not widened that dad gum highway, Hilda would still be in business. It worried me that old time oyster bars were fading away.
Just when things were looking pretty dismal, Joey, formally with the US Navy, opened his bar in Callaway. Lately, I have been bellying up to his bar. He actually worked with Gene for a while to “learn the business,” before opening his own. I heard him say last week that he “almost decided not to do it” after seeing how much work and headache went into running an oyster bar. Just like the others, he seems to care deeply about having the best oysters that can be found. Thank God, someone has picked up the torch.
There are no oysters pre-shucked on a tray in a cooler somewhere in the back of the bar. Nope. Sit down and watch the shucks fly. In fact, I have great fun trying to see if my shucker can shuck as fast as I can eat. I always win. I am a professional oyster eater.
http://www.myspace.com/joeyshalfshellbar
I overheard Joey say that he “would be getting in some East Bay oysters.” My ears perked up since that is my favorite oyster. They had all but disappeared a few years ago but are apparently trying to make a comeback.
Like my father before me, I loved scouring East Bay waters looking for oyster treasures. A few years ago, my friend Larry Mixon and I found a bounty of “scissor bill” oysters in waist deep water near the mouth of Sandy Creek. We dove for several hours and picked up a couple of bags. By the time we reached the boat landing, our hands had swollen to twice their normal size from the tiny cuts from the oyster shells. We didn’t know to wear gloves. But it was worth it. I learned the hard way to appreciate the men and women who catch oysters for a living. They are tough as nails.
In recent years, Oysters have been given a bad rap. Every time someone gets sick from eating them, it becomes big news. OK. I know this is the “pot calling the kettle black” since some of the bad publicity has come directly from our newsroom. But we have tried to apply a little common sense to releasing such information. If the information comes from the health department, we are obliged to broadcast it. But in truth, just as many people get sick from eating chicken or any other food that is improperly handled or stored. No one runs those stories on the news.
In fact, most people who get sick from oysters already have a pre-existing condition.
Oysters are still fairly affordable considering what you will pay in most major cities away from the coast. I almost choked one year after ordering a dozen in a Denver, Colorado restaurant. Luckily, I had my Visa.
The oyster is a “canary in a coal mine” for the bays. We should continue to consume raw oysters so that the health and vitality of the industry stays front and center in our minds, hearts, and stomach. That is the only way state and local governments keep the motivation to insure that steps are taken to protect the marine estuaries. When the oysters go, so goes the overall health of the environment. So goes a part or our history.
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About Me
The life of any News Director is stressful most days... so, when the weekend rolls around I find myself on the back roads of our bountiful and beautiful part of the state looking for bluegrass music, interesting things to do, and, of course, fried chicken. I will try to share some of these "finds" with you. There are a thousand stories left to be told or simply remembered. Don't expect to find them all here; maybe just a little stroll down memory lane or maybe a little skewed insight into topical issues.
Larche Hardy,
News Director
Recent Entries:
- Marty Raybon and Georgia Bluegrass
- Curse of the Acoustic Guitar
- A Millville Hero
- Bluegrass at BAMA JAM a hit!
- Bird watching not a bore
- No Poet Laureate
- Let the Bluegrass begin
- Hurry Spring
- Alabama’s Highway 52
- Cell Phone Interuptus
- Bellying up to the bar
- Resolutions are Doomed to Failure
- Bah-dad-gum-Humbug
- A hunting we will go!
- Hot Stuff!
Other News13 Blogs:
- The Casual Historian - Larche Hardy
- Behind The Scenes - Heather Kretzer
- The Resident Gator - Megan Albright
- The Newby - Jessi Chapin
- Bloggin' From The Beach - Bree Sison
- Gainesville, Georgia's All American Girl - Tuquyen Mach
- ... and yes, my hair is naturally curly - Jessica Foster
- Derby Girl - Enocha Van Lierop
- Cracker Cat - Jeannie Weller
