I remember freshwater fish with odd sounding names like ‘crappie' and catfish. Catfish could become huge. Scavengers, theirs could be a pungent and not-so-clean flesh. They lived for many years, mostly in deep waters. They allegedly became extremely wary over time: either avoiding capture altogether, or dragging fishermen into the water. But my favorite food that grew underwater was oysters. To the best of my knowledge, oysters have a relatively short life span and don't grow to be the size of Buicks. But it's an interesting thought: Oyster Filets! Giant Killer Oyster Flicks!
We all have our comfort foods. The regions in which we happen to grow up obviously help to determine our loves and tastes. Breaded, fried oysters will always be a comfort food to me. My grandfather grew up on the coast of North Carolina, in the town of New Bern. His large family ate a lot of seafood, and he brought his love of seafood to our table. No one could cook breaded, fried oysters like my grandfather John. He somehow achieved perfection with simply white flour, salt, fresh oysters, and butter: all thrown into a hot cast iron skillet. He didn’t even use an egg wash! The resulting tidbit was crispy golden brown on the outside - juicy, sea-salty and tangy on the inside.
So fry some oysters. Serve with a large organic mixed baby green salad. Beer or white wine is a good accompaniment, but Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon work, especially for those of us who drink red with almost everything.
But be careful! If at or below latitude/longitude 33° 50' N / 81° 9' W, the Southern Beverage Police might kick in your front door. "Billy Ray, ya'll confiscate them sissy dranks while ah cuff this crowd!"
But be careful! If at or below latitude/longitude 33° 50' N / 81° 9' W, the Southern Beverage Police might kick in your front door. "Billy Ray, ya'll confiscate them sissy dranks while ah cuff this crowd!"
