Oysters. Sweet, Sweet Oysters.

I want to report on a very pleasing trend that has become a part of my life recently: I have been eating a lot of oysters.

I love oysters. Really, really love them. Briny, buttery, succulent, plump, and tender with an icy bite of cold and salt as they slide down your throat... Sweet mother Mary. I have sampled all kinds of condiments - vinegar, horseradish, lemon juice, cocktail sauce - but in my mind, the oyster is perfect as it is. Au natural. Any other flavors detract from its sharp, sweet perfection.

Oysters, alas, are expensive, as well all know. When we've been feeling decadent, Ed and I have ordered half a dozen before meals and gazed with delighted anticipation at what seemed to be a large platter of them only to be crushed when, 90 seconds later, they are suddenly gone. There is no sadder sight on earth than a plate of empty oyster shells. You can slow yourself down when eating oysters, but you're simply prolonging the inevitable. All too soon, they will be gone, and you will be devastated.

Luckily, a tapas restaurant 15 minutes from our apartment has a happy hour special which features $1 oysters. Seriously. Even better, the oysters they serve are beau soleil, one of my favorite kinds. We've eaten there several times and it did not seem like the kind of place that would give you food poisoning with cheap oysters. And, honestly, I was willing to take the risk. Ed and I went there recently and ordered a dozen. And then, ten minutes later, we threw caution to the wind and ordered a dozen more. Except that it's not throwing caution to the wind when they cost $1 apiece. The oysters were small, but tasty, and I don't mind admitting that I would have been happy to order 12 more. But one must be careful not to indulge in too much euphoria at once.

Lure

We met our friends Leonard and Maggie at a fantastic fish restaurant called Lure a few nights ago, and the oyster-fest continued. Maggie, as my regular readers will recall, is quite a foodie, and so she was not about to pass up the oysters on the menu. We ordered a dozen, composed of 6 beau soleil and 6 blue points. The blue points were huge, plump, and heart-breakingly wonderful. The beau soleils were smaller and more subtle. It was bliss. (Lure, it is worth mentioning, is wonderful for reasons other than their oysters. I tasted three out of the four entrees we ordered and each was superb. Ed, who is normally not a huge dessert guy, agreed to share a warm chocolate cake with me and I thought I was going to have to fight him for my half of it; the cake itself was so good it made me dizzy, and the caramel ice cream and caramel popcorn that came along with it were perfect compliments. The service was wonderful, and the decor of the place is fantastic. You feel as though you are sitting in the cabin of an enormous yacht. The windows are shaped like portholes. Even the mahogany floorboards and small lighting fixtures that illuminate the steps are spot on. It was so convincing I swear I felt the place rocking now and then.)

Mermaid Oyster Bar

Last night, Ed and I went to yet another seafood place called the Mermaid Oyster Bar with our friends Rasool and Mary. Let it not be said that I am greedy: I was prepared to go without oysters this time, and for the first few minutes that we perused our menus, the discussion focused on a range of other available appetizers. I determined to keep a stiff upper lip. Then Rasool suggested that we whet our appetites for the appetizers with a platter of oysters, and I found myself overwhelmed with feelings of admiration and affection for him. We selected a dozen east coast oysters (blue points and beau soleils, of course) and Rasool chose another half dozen west coast oysters for good measure. The meal itself was wonderful, but with an introduction like that - to say nothing of the espresso mug filled with complimentary dark chocolate pudding at the end - how could it have been anything else?