If we're at the oyster bar, and we're in Louisiana, when we talk about trying something new, we're usually not talking about the oyster.
New might mean sampling a cocktail sauce with a little extra mojo in it, or maybe even field testing some new jokes the shucker picked up. But for the oyster itself, we know exactly what to expect.
It will be a Gulf oyster, and we know the taste by heart. It’s an oyster in its prime as the season grows colder, much less so in summer, a bargain most of the time, and practically a give-away during the right happy hour. That’s the way it’s been here for a long time.
But lately, there has been a change in the type of Gulf oyster showing up on some New Orleans menus. It’s a homegrown oyster from local waters, but one bred to be different from the old-reliables.
These are farm-raised oysters, sometimes pitched as premium oysters and often listed on menu cards and oyster bar blackboards by their geographic names: Caminada Bay, Champagne Bay and Beauregard Island oysters, all from around Grand Isle, or Isle Dauphine and the evocatively named Murder Point oysters coming in from Alabama.
They look different, with thinner, lighter colored shells. Crack one open and the cup of the shell, the bowl in which the oyster sits, is deeper and rounder. Most importantly, they taste different. The ones I’ve downed lately have been full and rich, subtly floral, a little creamy and most of all robustly salty, even in summer.
The different look and tastes comes from different growing conditions. Instead of being dredged from a reef as usual, they’re cultivated in floating cages, tumbling around in the current and thriving in saltier conditions, safe in their cages from the predators that normally would devour them in saltwater.
Now the term farm-raised isn’t always a selling point when it comes to seafood. But oysters are different than shrimp or tilapia. The idea behind farm raised oysters isn’t to grow as much as possible but rather to produce them in optimum conditions. The goal is a Gulf oyster that isn’t just a by-the-sack commodity, but one that gets the same kind of billing as the vaunted Wellfleets of Cape Cod or Beausoliel oysters of New Brunswick. That means these are also more expensive oysters. Expect to pay at least twice what you would for standard Gulf oysters.
Farmed oysters are new on the Gulf, but they’re commonplace in other areas. At some high-end oyster bars, farmed is the norm, and some connoisseurs insist on it.
Well, not me. I’ll always have a soft spot for the Gulf oyster I first learned to love, generous, gregarious, just as suitable for shucking on a parade route or tailgate as at an elegant restaurant. But as premium oysters find their place in New Orleans they’re bringing a fascinating local alternative to the table.
There’s a saying — from the French, naturally — that eating an oyster is like kissing the sea on the lips. For oyster lovers who are faithful to the Gulf, a different type of local oyster promises the thrill of the new, without having to feel like those kisses are cheating.
A sampling of New Orleans restaurants and raw bars to find a variety of Gulf oysters today:
Borgne
601 Loyola Ave., (504) 613-3860; borgnerestaurant.com
Curious Oyster Co.
St. Roch Market, 2381 St. Claude Ave.; curiousoyster.co
Mariza
2900 Chartres St., (504) 598-5700; marizaneworleans.com
Oxlot 9
428 E. Boston St., Covington, (985) 400-5663; oxlot9.com
Pêche Seafood Grill
800 Magazine St., (504) 522-1744; pecherestaurant.com
Sac-A-Lait
1051 Annunciation St., (504) 324-3658; sac-a-laitrestaurant.com
