Life is full of many firsts: your first steps and solid
food; your first day of kindergarten and getting on a school bus. No one forgets
that first kiss and other firsts that happen around those years (or later –
much, in fact - for those of us a bit slow on the uptake). And who could ever
forget your first job or car.
Being a seasoned woman over forty, I’ve had many firsts. Piles of those
milestones have received a second, third or fourth round. But I can swear with
absolute sincerity that one first from last night here in Bangkok will never
get a second chance: eating a freshly opened oyster.
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| www.oysterguide.com |
The horror of it all.
The mystery of it all. After I recovered
from emptying my martini glass with a frantic gulp to wash down that slimy
chewy slug, I could not help but notice the contrast between my moment of wide-eyed
distress and the look of pure bliss from my dining companion as he happily
slurped down yet another plump morsel. And that got me thinking –what is it
that creates such love and loathing regarding this modest looking mollusk, who
sits hidden in a craggly silver white case that grows one of the most coveted
jewelry items in the world? What is it about that ritual of effort to risk life
and limb to cut open the shell, carefully peel the blade around the pillowy
briny center, reach for a squeeze of lemon and swallow the slippery thing
that brings such a deep sigh of satisfaction and longing for yet another one?
A rapid fire internet scan yields some curious results. A first entry of “oysters” revealed a top visited erotica site entitled “Oysters and
Chocolate: A Sensual Feast for Men and Women.” Being on a work computer I did
not feel inclined to add that page to my electronic fingerprint, despite the obvious
link between erotica and the workplace. Next up came a site of quotes dedicated
solely to oysters and their apparently endless wonder. A short page, to be
sure. Last but not least appeared a more vanilla oriented site of “oysters.com”
which lays out everything that in my opinion, one never needs to know about an
oyster. Just get rid of the lot, I say.
Not so fast, say those oyster lovers. Seems there are
significant health benefits to eating those little gems. Oysters are apparently
very good for people who need zinc and for men who need a boost of
you-know-what to you-know-where. And yes yes, we’ve all heard that little chestnut about
the sex appeal of oysters and how they
help to recall blissful moments of a past romp or to get ready for the next one. Personally I think I'd get more turned on watching the grass grow outside.
More amusing is the effect that oysters seem to have on
people’s basic communication skills. When chatting with a friend about my near death
experience last night, said friend launched into such a breathy rhapsody about her
love of all things oysters that I thought she would smoke a cigarette while propped
up in bed and charge $3.75 a minute for our phone call. Another friend, when sharing an obvious passion for the treats, typed out such a uncharacteristically garbled string of skype messages that I wondered what had gotten into him – particularly
when he opined that the best time to eat oysters was “on a Saturday morning as the sun sets." What is wrong with you people, I ask!
Which is exactly what I heard back when explaining my snack from hell last night. The world may be my oyster, but I'm not biting it ever again.
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| That's more like it |
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