Ahh, unemployment and the imminent existential crisis of the recent college grad. Somewhere between browsing the new additions to Netflix instant, reading sentimental statuses on Facebook, and fielding questions about my future, I found time in my busy schedule to post.
Connie has a well known and documented love of oysters--she got food poisoining from them at Borough Market in London, and then came back the next week for more. Live and don't learn.
This is a collage of photos of oystersI found on Facebook that Connie
either took or was tagged in.
I, on the other hand, was much more apprehensive. But the problem with being a loudly self-proclaimed open-minded person is that you have to walk the walk and in this case, eat the oyster. Honestly, though, who could resist: Fish has a deal where you get 6 oysters and a beer/white wine/red wine for $8. Bargain (unless you get food poisoning, but as the Russians say, "those who don't risk, don't drink champagne"...or PBR as the case may be).
So as it turns out, oysters are good! I can't tell you too much about their flavor, since right before eating one, I black out with fear and nerves and only come to in time for the next one. They are flavorful and meaty, should not be overexamined, and are better with sauces. At Fish, they come with the onion/vinegar sauce, cocktail sauce, horseradish (underrated condiment), and bay seasoning. As you would expect, they are served on ice, although I think an upscale oyster bar should invest in dry ice plates and force the customers to wear later gloves. For the scientist who likes luxury.
A luxury scientist's pipette tipswould be made of Swarowski crystals
Besides the oysters, the T-shirts are awesome. They say, "sex, drugs, and lobsters rolls." Connie and I debated what color to get them in for probably half the meal, before we found out they were sold out. (I wonder how much time I would save in life if I had no freedom of choice. Of course, if that were true, I would be living in a dictatorial regime, where the odds of me getting killed would be much higher, so the time I saved on not having choice would be cancelled out by the time I lost...not living).
Regardless, the ambiance is great--low lighting, pictures of fishermen, Bob Dylan songs, wet floors due to the lack of dry ice plates, and just the right amount of limited square footage to make you feel like you're in a real New York restaurant.
Conclusion: low-cost decadence, for the privileged college student who wants to look even more privileged! Also check out Hog and Rocks in San Francisco.
P.S. I tried finding this hilarious New Yorker cartoon about Moby-Dick where Ahab finds the whale in the lookout tower, and caption said, "it's always in the last place you look." Sadly when I googled it, all I found was a picture that said, "find the clitoris." The connection is obvious, amiright?!!?.
