Only a few years ago, freshly shucked oysters were a rarity on New York City menus. Platters of uncooked bivalves were solely the purview of seafood specialists like the Grand Central Oyster Bar or Soho's Aquagrill.
No more.
Oyster happy hours are everywhere in these days, and I am delighted by the trend. I never tire of oysters. There are so many kinds to enjoy and they have such evocative names -- from Moonstone to Malpeque and Belon to Beau Soliel. Slurping down a half-dozen sweet or salty beauties is a joyful endeavor. It's like a brief seaside trip without getting sand where it doesn't belong.
I'm partial to West Coast lovelies like Kumamotos, but I can be taken by a plump East Coaster as well. All depends on the mood -- the mood and the mignonette.
And, is it true about oysters putting you in the mood for love?
Depends on my mood, the mignonette, the Moonstones, the Malpeques, and the man in question.