Unfortunately for me, there are only opening new stores in large shopping arenas in wholly high-end demographics. There will be no Wegman's coming to my inner Center City neighborhood of high-rises soon. Not even to the wealthiest inner suburbs. Not enough room. I don't mind making the occasional trip over the Delaware River, but the four dollar, return-penalty bridge toll keeps the trips limited and carefully planned. Keeping mind that my idea of carefully planned is in the same method that a squirrel inventories its acorn burials.
It is during this holiday excursion, that I set off to bring home something interesting from Wegman's well stocked, clean and fresh seafood selections. In recent years, I have made seafood a focus of pre-holiday meals. Now I usually like to have Dungeness crab before New Years (more on that next week) and I have done lobster twice recently, so after a moment of thought and inspection, I decide to hand pick a dozen oysters from a iced bin set up next to the seafood case.
A half dozen Malpeques and six mysterious Glidden Points, as two of the markets seafood casemen gave separate hometowns. It was either from Nova Scotia or New Jersey? I suppose I could have gained a tie-breaker by asking a third party, but then what would have happened if I was given a third destination. I later found out at home the Glidden Points were from Maine.
After I finnished culinary school in San Francisco, I worked for a very helpful chef who had won contests for shucking oysters and I had opened some for service only a few times, so never became prolific. However, I'm not trying to open a sunken sea chest. It's just an oyster. I believe eve an otter can do with relative ease, though I've never seen an otter work in a raw bar.
As long as you have a good oyster knife and dish towel, it's not that complicated. I start by cleaning the oyster with a brush. This helps to clear away any grit and find the backend joint where you give a firm but controlled turn with the tip of the knife. Once cracked open, clean the knife on the towel and slide the knife across the inside of the top shell to cut the connecting adductor tendon then cut the bottom tendon. At the raw bar they would flip the flesh over to expose the cleaner side.
Here is Part A - the Malpeques with the La Pepiere Muscadet.
The night's special wine buddy was the pure shellfish classic pairing of Muscadet, the bright, crisp, lemony, minerally white wine from the Nantais region of the Loire Valley, adjacent to the Atlantic Ocean in France. Muscadet, aka, melon de Bourgogne, is the grape itself. Most mainstream Muscadet is generally a decent, dry white wine. That's why I made sure to take home one of the best on the market. Mark Olivier's Domaine de la Pepiere Muscadet from his Clos de Briord vineyard. The intense minerality of this particular wine is a stellar compliment to the briney, minerality of the two oysters.
Oysters are a healthy choice and raw bars are a fun dining option. Now with a little planning, they can be a new holiday tradition for you like I have made them for myself.
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