If you don’t fuck with oysters, you’re bad at sex. At least, that’s what’s running through my mind the second you utter something to the tune of “the taste and texture is not for me”. Sweet little angel! Grow up.
Oysters belong to that category of delicacies sitting at the food pyramid’s very pinnacle. Other foods I think belong there include uni, caviar, century egg, anchovies, pâté, tripe, lamb brains, balut and a host of ferments. For many people, the look, smell and taste of these culinary delights is objectively weird, unappetising, and off-putting. But for grown-up palates, these foods are the upper echelon of culinary experience. Where am I going with this? Perhaps you already know.
What else smells, looks and tastes objectively weird? Good sex.
Oysters have been a staple of human diets for millennia. First Nations communities across the world have always operated abundant and sustainable oyster fisheries, especially in Australia. Hudson Bay used to be filled with oysters, and efforts are currently underway to clean it up by bringing the oysters back. Oysters purify water and their reefs function like vast underwater architecture, protecting bays and inlets from large waves. Oysters are very cool.
In the contemporary sense, oysters are much more than delicious squiggly molluscs in sea juice. They are signs. Semiotic signs of luxury and wealth, of opulence and hedonism, of culinary appreciation and audacity. They’re sex symbols, supposed aphrodisiacs, intrinsically horny. A freshly shucked oyster is the fruit of the ocean. They are FRESH and NATURAL and JUICY and WET.
That doesn’t mean if you do like oysters, you will be magically good at sex. If someone orders you a big plate of oysters, it’s safe to assume that they fuck, but never assume it will be good. You can’t just eat an oyster and be good at sex, that isn’t how it works.
But an appreciation and love and lust for oysters does signify three key things: a desire for the finer things in life, an enjoyment of interesting sensations, and the correct attitude to putting wet things in your mouth.
If you’re above the age of 20 and you don’t like to eat oysters, I’m gonna make a safe bet there’s a lot of things you don’t like to eat.
[I’m talking about head].
Most of us learn to like oysters. The slippery treats can be an acquired taste, but learning to relish in eating them is a sensible investment. You’ll enjoy life a whole lot more.
They’ve become a luxury item, so it’s fair if you simply haven’t been able to afford enough oysters to learn to enjoy them. But in that case, why say “ew” when you could say “I’d love for you to buy me oysters”?
While $6 a pop is a frankly scary price to pay for an oyster at a bar, you can still get a dozen for $20 at the market. So, if you don’t like oysters, you’d better try. At least pretend to, for the love of god. I’m trying to help you help yourself.
[This is not sponsored by Big Oyster, however if Big Oyster happens to be reading this and would be interested in a partnership please reach me at my socials links below]