APALACHICOLA OYSTERS

November rolls around and I start to get that yearning feeling. That primal need many Floridians feel (and especially Panhandle Natives) for fresh, salty, right from the bay Oysters. Oysters are certainly an acquired taste but they also must be consumed in the proper atmosphere for optimal enjoyment. When I was just a lad living in Bonifay, FL, my dear father would take me to "Grady's Oyster Bar." This was always a treat on many levels. Firstly, it was a treat because it meant time spent with my Dad and secondly because we got to sit at the bar where I was given permission to consume obscene amounts of Coca Cola out of a glass bottle. The right kind of atmosphere most conductive to Oyster consumption is a sort of "dive" or "hole in the wall" with a TV blaring or a Jukebox playing. Often the jukebox is so old you can't quite believe such a mechanical device is still in service or how they could possibly still get parts for it. Grady's was located on Highway 90 and was owned by the Grandfather of my good friend "John Paul." The Bar was a former drive-in built in the 50's that had been added on to and was also the residence of the purveyors. When you went into the front door, sometime (if business was slow) there would be no one up front so you had to yell for Mr. Grady to come up from whatever he was doing to serve you. He would often come through the back door that led to their home, sleepy eyed or with a tired expression. But he would quickly settle into his work and would always have a joke or two for you. You would begin your order with a "dozen" and go from there to judge the freshness and quality of this particular batch. Professional Oyster Shuckers pride themselves on telling a good from bad oyster and we would rarely, if ever, get served a bad one. The first oyster would be shucked and served on the half-shell in front of you. You then looked at it. The oyster should look plump and full. It should be running with juices and very wet. (A dry looking or shriveled oyster is considered a bad one and should be avoided). Next you smell the oyster. It should have a nice salty-sea smell. (If it's fishy or pungent, it's no good, move on to the next). Finally, you prepared the oyster for consumption. You take your tooth-pick and gentle guide the oyster onto a saltine cracker. You then can salt it just a tad; a little pepper if you are so inclined, and then add the hottest Tabasco sauce known to man. Pop the whole thing into your mouth. The first bite tells all. It should burst with flavor and juices, a nice sea-food crustation flavor, salty and delicious. Once the first one passes the visual, olfactory, and taste tests, you know you likely have a good batch.

Yesterday I made my pilgrimage to the local Oyster bar in Leesburg, FL. It's the only one I've found in Central, Florida that reminds me of Grady's (Poor Mr. Grady passed on a few years ago, God rest his soul). I had an excellent batch of Oysters on the half-shell and a dozen steamed jumbo shrimp to boot. My obscene Coca Cola consumption has given way to moderate Beer consumption followed by a single diet coke (I'm going soft in my old age). I loved sitting in this smoky, seedy bar with AC/DC blaring, bikers and blue collar gentleman getting off work sitting around trying to drink the hard week away. When I sat down the Server asked, "What'll you have?" To which I replied, "A Dozen Oysters, raw on the half-shell." The burly mechanic looked up from his beer and gave me a smile and nod as if to approve. I sat there eating, thinking of Dad, and looking forward to seeing him Thanksgiving where we can shuck a few together and remember simpler times.

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