Raw Passion: Oysters Once, Oysters Twice

I'll eat them any time of year, but to my mind raw oysters and winter are a perfect pairing. And I'm not fussy about the beverage to accompany them, whether white, bubbly, pink, hoppy or of the cocktail persuasion…Bloody Mary, anyone? So during these cold(er) months I'm dedicating myself to uncovering some of Portland's better places to slurp some bivalves, both the well-known and those that are more under-the-oyster bed.

Counter-clockwise from 1 o'clock: Seacow, Kumamoto, Chelsea Green, Petites, Cape Breton, Malpeque.

When it came to picking the first spot to start this odyssey with my equally bivalve-obsessed friend, Michele, we settled on EaT, An Oyster Bar on North Williams Avenue. Dedicated to the seafood-bejeweled culture of New Orleans, EaT is known as a mecca for the fresh product and seemed like the right place to lay the foundation for our explorations.

We sat down to ponder the offerings over their very cute 12-oz. mugs of beer, the perfect size to sip over a dozen mollusks. Lucky for us there were six oysters on the board, two from Washington, two from Oregon and, oddly, two from Eastern Canada, which just the right amount to sample one apiece and compare notes.

• Seacow (Washington): Medium-sized, tender but with a sweet, meaty chew. Nice and briny.
• Kumamoto (Oregon): Small and sweet with a creamy texture that still had some chew to it. A longtime favorite.
• Chelsea Green (Washington): Tiny (smaller than Kumamotos!), briny and sweet, these were impressive. Like the Seacows, they have a meaty texture. Definitely the winners on the board.
• Petites (Oregon): Medium-sized with a super mild flavor, meaty texture and good brininess.
• Cape Breton (Nova Scotia): Super briny/salty, but with a lingering sweetness. A tougher texture than the others, we wondered if it was because they came from so far away.
• Malpeque (Prince Edward Island): Like the Cape Bretons, very briny but a little less chewy. Nice if you like salty. Also not as plump as the NW oysters…again, true to type or too much travel?

Since we were there to taste the oysters themselves, the proffered lemon wedges remained unsqueezed. We came to the conclusion that we need to come back soon and have a dozen Chelsea Greens each during EaT's happy hour when oysters are a buck apiece, a truly great deal.

Details: EaT, An Oyster Bar, 3808 N Williams Ave. 503-281-1222.

* * *

It just so happened that a day or two after the sampling at EaT, Dave and I decided to pause during what we euphemistically call The Running of the Errands to have a beer at Interurban on North Mississippi. Their list, though not long, is very well-curated and the cozy, log cabin-like bar feels just right on chilly winter days.

From left to right: Denman Island, Pearl Bay, Buckley Bay.

Dave's fondness for raw oysters rivals my own, which is yet another stitch securing the quilt that is our marriage. So while the Olympic Provisions hot dog, onion rings and other items on the mid-day menu were tempting, when we saw the fresh oysters our decision was made. There were just three on offer that day, all from British Columbia, and while we've been known to scarf down a dozen apiece and hanker for more, a half dozen seemed an adequate sampling on this day.

• Denman Island: Medium-sized like its siblings, its frilly shell gleaming and pearlescent, we found these sweet and meaty with a fresh brininess.
• Pearl Bay: Also sweet, this oyster was creamy more than meaty, practically melting on the tongue.
• Buckley Bay: Much like the Denman Island, though slightly brinier than the other two.

All were excellent and provided an intriguing view of the tastes intrinsic to the individual waters from which they came. Tasting notes online suggested that these oysters tend to have a lingering melon or cucumber finish, and we found this to be true as well.

As for the beers, my Boneyard Beer IPA proved an excellent counterpoint to the richness of the oysters, clearing my palate between bites. But I was grinding my teeth over not ordering Dave's pick, a glorious pint of darkness, the CDA from Hood River's Pfriem Family Brewers. Roasty, medium-bodied and with a dry hoppiness, it's the ideal foil for raw oysters (or, in my opinion, just about any food) and definitely worth going in to have while its still on the list.

Details: Interurban, 4057 N Mississippi Ave. 503-284-6669.

How to Shuck an Oyster

If you love our Northwest oysters as much as I do, then there's a good chance you'll be shucking oysters at some point. But if you're a novice like me, you'll want to avoid the mistake I made of shoving the oyster knife into your palm in front of your guests.

So when I had the chance to interview Lissa James, co-owner with her brother Adam of Hama Hama Oyster Company on Washington's Puget Sounds, I asked if I could film her technique for shucking oysters and she graciously obliged.

(And sorry about the focus, but you'll get the idea…)

Oysters Beware

Life is so full of serendipitous happenings. Some feel so linked that they could be called examples of synchronicity, a philosophical concept, developed by none other than Carl Gustav Jung, that explains the experience of two or more events that "are apparently causally unrelated or unlikely to occur together by chance and that are observed to occur together in a meaningful manner." Jung believed that synchronistic events reveal an underlying pattern, a larger framework; i.e. that stuff doesn't happen only by chance.

Knives on the shelf at Dehillerin.

An example: the other day my friend Linda gave us a gorgeous oyster shucking knife (above) that she brought back from a trip to Paris. She'd been visiting her daughter, who was in school in that magical city, and had a few hours on her own to explore the city. A consummate chef, she went to the legendary kitchen supply store Dehillerin. Browsing the shelves of this store that hasn't changed its layout much since it opened in 1820, with high wooden walls and crowded layout, she ran across this knife that, as she explained it, only requires the shucker to point it at an oyster and the creature will pop open its shell in submission.

The high tech "retail display" at Dehillerin.

Then, and that's when my story gets interesting, the next day my brother texted me to get online immediately and make reservations to spend a few days in July at Paradise Creek campground. So, you're asking yourself, what does a camping trip have to do with a French shucking knife? Well, my friends, if you recall, our trip there last year involved no less decadent a treat than 14 dozen fresh oysters.

See what I mean? Synchronicity at its finest. We'll be there, shucker in hand.

Photos of Dehillerin by Linda Colwell.

Camp Stories: Paradise Creek Campground

Can you really say you're roughing it when you have fourteen dozen raw oysters in a coffin-sized cooler? Not to mention martini glasses, cocktail fixin's for just about any drink in a home bartender's guide, anchovy-stuffed Spanish olives for the aforementioned martinis and enough wine to ride out (or would that be float out?) the apocalypse.

Now, I have to say that Dave and I have wowed camp neighbors over the years with margaritas shaken in a handy plastic tub and some mighty fine camp cookin' like the posole we made last year in Dave's brand new Lodge cast iron pot. But the crew we joined over the Fourth of July took it over the top and then some.

Only 167 to go…

My brother (that's him shucking, lower right) and his bride have always headed for the hills over the holiday to get away from the crazies who seem to think the city's streets are their own private bombing range. This year we decided to invite ourselves along and spare Walker and Rosey the panting, pacing, drooling trauma of staying in town.

The plan was to meet up in the no-fireworks-allowed pristine surroundings of the aptly named Paradise Creek campground just north of Carson, Washington, in the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest near Mt. Adams. A small, shady campground, its 42 primitive sites are dotted along the confluence of the Wind River, Paradise Creek and Juice Creek.

Still shucking.

The creekside campsites are the most private and the largest, each capable of handling anywhere from one to three tents, though an additional fee is required for more than one vehicle per site. The best is site 29, but sites 25 and 27 are lovely, too (27 is next to the toilets, though buffered by trees and the creek). The camp hosts keep the pit toilets clean and well-stocked, and they also have firewood available, though after the first night you'll be going back down the road near the fish hatchery where an enterprising family sells dry, chopped wood for a much better price.

Campfire posole.

As for those oysters, our group consisted of five couples, two singles and a toddler, so appetizers on two evenings were taken up shucking and slurping both raw and grilled bivalves, though the toddler preferred consuming a fair amount of native terroir (that is, dirt) with his meals. Those were divvied up between the comings and goings of the various participants, with everything from beans and franks to steak and corn to, yes, our posole. Breakfast was a rotating affair that always started with coffee, then moved on to campfire hashbrowns and eggs or toasted bagels or scrambled eggs with chorizo sausage, then cold cuts, cheeses and salads for lunch.

Some amount of hiking and stream-walking was required to interrupt all that eating, and there are trails aplenty in the area including one hefty climb up Lava Butte from the campground, which ended with a somewhat disappointing non-view at the top.

The best part, though? As the sun went down on the night of July 4, the only crackling and popping came from the campfire, with no hissing from anything other than water flowing over the stones in the creek.

Read other Camp Stories in the series from Trout Creek Campground, Shadow Bay at Waldo Lake, LaPine State Park, Indian Crossing Campground, Frog Lake Campground, Patrick's Point State Park, Harris Beach State Park and Moss Creek Campground.

A Meal to Remember

A weekend at the beach with friends…it sounds so benign, right? But when you're with Linda Colwell and Carol Boutard, things can get pretty nutty pretty fast.

Kelly's Brighton Marina in Rockaway.

Linda had taken us to one of her favorite haunts, Kelly's Brighton Marina in Rockaway, for a lunch of fresh clams and crabs washed down with a bottle of a stunning '06 Pinot d'Alsace from Domaine Bott Geyl that she'd brought along. Though the day was misty, it wasn't cold, so we sat down at one of the brightly painted picnic tables on the deck overlooking the bay.

Linda anticipating the deliciousness.

Kelly Laviolette is the ebullient proprietor manning the tanks and the cooker. His wife, Janice, mans the store and took our order, shortly thereafter delivering three pounds of tiny, succulent steamers with cups of melted butter to the table. A rain shower required a move under cover, but didn't stop us from sucking down all three pounds in short order. After all, we had two whole Dungeness crabs coming.

The delicacy that is a crab heart.

When they arrived, Linda pointed out the tiny, star-shaped heart of the crab, insisting that I needed to try it. I picked up the half-inch morsel, bit down and got a flash of a soft, creamy, intensely briny flavor. Then it was gone. And it's definitely something I'll look for the next time I shell a crab.

Kelly at work.

Walking over to the oyster tanks where Kelly himself presides, Carol asked about getting a fresh oyster. Now, Kelly has the usual small molluscs you find on most restaurant menus, but he also has eight and ten-inch-long monsters, things you might expect to find in a Ripley's Believe It or Not display. So when he told Carol to grab one out of the tank, I thought she'd choose a small, ladylike shell. I should have known better. She came back from the tank proudly carrying (or was it hoisting?) one of the leviathans. Kelly was so impressed he said he'd shoot one with her, though you can see he added his own special twist.

How poor little Travis got roped into the proceedings, I'm not sure I know, but if you turn the volume up at the end of the video you'll hear his review. Hopefully the little guy's not scarred for life.

Briny Beginnings

Last night we were invited to dinner at the home of friends and, as usual, I asked what we could bring. "Oh, maybe an appetizer. But nothing fancy," was their reply. Now, they were serious about the "nothing fancy" part, but I know this particular couple loves a good starter and so I was mulling over the possibilities.

It's not yet tomato season, so a caprese bruschetta, one of my own top-of-the-list apps, was out of the running. And Asian chicken wings sounded tasty, but might be a little much since steaks were on the menu for dinner. A fava bean and mint spread would be seasonal and appropriate, but the farmers' markets were already over for the day.

Then it hit me: fresh oysters! Light yet wonderfully flavorful, totally seasonal and local, and relatively inexpensive yet classy. And though Dave and I aren't big on complements other than the occasional drop or two of lemon with our bivalves, a mignonette seemed like a fun addition.

There are at least two sources of fresh NW oysters in town, Dan & Louis' Oyster Bar and Newman's Fish Co. in City Market, with prices around $12-$18 a dozen or so, depending on the variety. Dan & Louis had Pickering Pass oysters from Washington for the lower price, so we dropped by and picked those up on the way to dinner. I'd whipped up a slightly esoteric ginger lemon mignonette, which was wonderful with the creamy, briny little oysters and got some nice props for my choice from the hosts.

If you're looking for something a little off-the-beaten path for apps this summer, I'd recommend giving oysters a try. And let me know if you've got a fave supplier in the area…more sources are good!

Lemon Ginger Mignonette

Adapted from Epicurious

1/3 c. rice vinegar
1 1/2 tsp. fresh ginger, minced fine or grated
1/2 tsp. lemon zest
Pinch of salt
1 tsp. green onion, minced (optional)

Combine vinegar, ginger, lemon zest and salt in small bowl, stir, then allow to steep for 10 min. Strain and add green onion, if desired, before serving alongside fresh oysters.

A Date with the Best Oysters in Portland

"A raw oyster was not designed for our pleasure. Appreciating it is more like catching a glimpse of a fox in the woods: The experience lasts only a moment but leaves us in a fleeting state of grace. Oysters are not easy or obvious, but few foods so exquisitely balance sweet, salty, savory, and mineral. Few foods so reward our efforts."

From 'A Geography of Oysters' by Rowan Jacobsen

We don't do date nights very often. We tend to go out with friends, or stop at the pub on the weekend for a beer. And I know, you parents of little kids are saying, "Oh, my God, you are so lucky!" And so we are. Our "kid" is 23 and all grown up, and waves us out the door when we leave. He can even feed the pets if need be.

So when we heard a story about slurping raw oysters on NPR last week, we were compelled to make a date to eat some of those briny delicacies. Having slurped our way through various oyster spots around town, our favorite (and the best deal we've found) is in the little pocket bar at Dan and Louis Oyster Bar down by the river. For just under $19 you can get a dozen of the freshest, liveliest little bivalves imaginable. Then, when we got there, we found that we'd just missed their happy hour, where from Monday through Friday from 4 to 6 pm you can get a dozen of three kinds of selected oysters for only $9.95. $9.95 for some of the best oysters in the country? Now that's what a happy hour should be about!

But, since we'd missed that crazy deal by an hour or so, our first dozen was the sampler, a selection of the day's offerings. Clockwise from top left are three each of Gigamoto, Kumamoto, Quilcene and Netarts. The Gigamotos are the smallest, with shells only about 1 1/2" long, with the tiniest oyster I'd ever seen inside. It takes nearly five years for them to reach even this diminutive size, and they have a delicate and slightly sweet taste with a salty tinge. The Kumamotos are long-time favorites, with their tiny size, meaty texture and salty goodness. The Quilcenes were good, but weren't as flavorful as the Netarts which, despite their larger size (only about an inch-and-a-half long) were light and had a fresh, wonderful ocean-y taste.

And, as any Northwest oyster lover knows, the delicate, fresh-from-the-sea flavor of our oysters don't need to be covered up with no stinkin' cocktail sauce, and even lemon overwhelms their loveliness. So, at least in our case, condiments are to be eschewed at all times.

Our choice for a beverage to accompany raw oysters is, ideally, a dry gin martini with olives. If you must have beer, while we are all about drinking super-hoppy IPAs with a burger and fries, a nice Mirror Pond Pale Ale is a much better choice in this instance. Which, come to think of it, is one reason we didn't go to Dan and Louis for so many years. Believe it or not, they actually didn't serve alcohol until just a few years ago, hard to believe when oysters and a beer are practically a requirement elsewhere.

Oh, in case you're wondering, the second dozen was six each of the Kumamotos and Netarts. We would have gone for a third dozen (these things go downlike popcorn) but somehow we pulled out of the briny vortex and vowed to come back during happy hour. Soon.

One caveat at this place: It is best to avoid anything else on the menu. If you must, you can try the oyster stew or the clam chowder, but to delve any deeper into their offerings is to court disappointment in the form of a truly mediocre meal.

Details: Dan and Louis Oyster Bar, 208 SW Ankeny. Phone 503-227-5906.