Shuck and Awe

Sometimes you can want something too much. You see, Lili wants to nurture her devotion to all, well most, things Cortes. Saturday night she crossed a big one off her list and Sunday morning another. But there was a price to pay.
We gathered some friends for salmon cakes and wine that fateful evening: Janice and Mike from Nanaimo, Jackie and her mom the other Lily, Becky from Alberta and local legends Ray and Diane from Owl Cottage. Ray, Papillon's pen patron, had suggested a couple of times he'd show us the ropes of a time-honoured Cortes tradition, oyster harvesting. He probably didn't mean at midnight on a moonless night after salmon cakes and during wine, however. Lili (not Lily, way too smart) and Alberta Becky gently but persistently (" Pleeeeeeeeze, Ray. Pleeeeeze...) persuaded Ray to go "catch some oysters." Diane and I were not much enamored of the idea. Their dog Rupert cast a look of resignation at Ray and shook his head. Most of the other 4 dogs in attendance appeared disdainful, too. Yet, after blackening their faces and synchronizing their watches, off the intrepid oysterers went moving serpentine down Seavista. I think it was serpentine, though it may have been something else.

Outfitting appropriately for the task is part of the experience: tall boots, gloves, shucking knives, water-proof jacket, shark repellent, make up for Becky, cell phones, suntan lotion, and a healthful snack. Lili brought a shovel. Perhaps to hit the oysters over their heads should they try to escape? We'll just have to wait for the historians to tell us.
An hour later, appearing none the worse for wear, though appearances were deceiving, the proud hunters returned to the gathering with a big white pail of Cortes oysters.
Lili began shucking them around noon on Sunday. I suggested the things I always use to dress them: hot sauce, lemon, Worcestershire, shallot. Lili added chopped celery for texture and parsley and chive from the garden. We ate 15 as soon as they were shucked. Among the best things I'd ever had and much to Lili's surprise, it was love at first slurp. She took some to Owl Cottage, too, where Ray uttered the now famous line, "What are those?"
"Well, Mikie, all seems in order. You said their was a price to pay, did you not?" you may ask. And here it is. Lili is now covered in multi-hued bruises, many keeping her from sitting on wooden chairs, from her clambering around on the rocks in pursuit of Ray. At one point she found herself wedged between two boulders even as Ray was yelling over his shoulder, "... quit your complaining." Thank God she had that shovel.
Becky, ever resourceful, yanked her out. She was dinged up, too, and she's not even an oyster lover.
The moral of the story? I don't know. Maybe it's never underestimate the primitive power of the hunting and gathering instinct... and Spanish wine. Perhaps it's... who cares. Not every story is an allegory. Some are just great memories.
Note: Most people here eat their oysters cooked. It's a mystery to me why that's true.


Yummy.