Shucked: The Paperback

And so. Here we are, settled in to our new life in Nashville—maybe too comfortably, considering how little attention I've paid to the blog lately. It's been 9 months, we've bought a house in the Sylvan Park area of town, and both Dave and I are feeling invested in our work. Charlie is a mad man, almost 2 years old and fully running the show in our household. Rex, the family dog, is happier than he's ever been with his big fenced-in yard and air-conditioned house. It's a good life in Tennessee. And we're more than ready for visitors. There is still so much to learn about this town. Both in the music and media worlds, Dave and I feel ever-so-slightly on the fringe. But when it comes to food, we're making headway. The food writers in this town, especially, have taken us under their wings (thank you Thomas Williams, Chris Chamberlain, Jennifer Justus, et al) and we have discovered a number of fantastic little gems (putting together Nashville's 50 Best Restaurants and ranking the top 10  for Nashville Lifestyles this spring didn't hurt). Arnold's, Prince's Hot Chicken, the Catbird Seat, City House, Loveless Cafe... these are iconic for a reason. Need recs for your next visit? Shoot me a line and I'll give you the greatest hits.

Plus, I've found the oyster bar. Not the oyster bar, since other restaurants in this town have oyster programs, but "the" in terms of the one that I'll be frequenting for the selection, the service, and the atmosphere. The Southern Steak & Oyster (it's right there in the name) has opened their arms wide to me and, more importantly, to Shucked. This past Monday, the restaurant invited me to guest host their "Oysters In The Round" event, a new program that puts their guests in a somewhat "round" room to eat and discuss a range of oyster varieties.


Fashioned after the songwriter "in the round" nights hosted all over town, the event turned into an educational and convivial one. There are plenty of oyster lovers in Nashville... now it's time to get them access to more of this country's incredible oysters. The Southern seems to be one of a few spots that are actively pursuing oyster education—both for their guests and their staff.


I was honored to work with them on this and hope we can turn it into a regular event (especially if they all end with a lineup of oyster shooters made with barrel-aged tequila and chartreuse).


The timing is right, too: Shucked officially hits the market as a paperback this Tuesday, July 2. I'm guessing this version stands as a more appropriate beach accessory than the hard cover—you know, in case you were looking for a beach read.

Things are picking back up on the book front, actually. I'll be back in Boston for the Brooklyn Brewery Mash on July 14. Brooklyn Brewery works with Togather, a community of authors and readers, to present book events during their traveling beer series. Starting around 6 p.m. on Sunday, July 14, I'll be joining Graham McKay of Lowell's Boat Shop as well as the team from Island Creek upstairs at Eastern Standard Kitchen & Drinks to talk about the book and offer some fun commentary about life on the coast. If you're in the area, I hope you'll come out for a few oysters and a beer.


After that, I have plans to do another book event with Togather, this one virtual, set for July 22nd at 8 p.m. Log in, grab a glass of wine, and let's talk oysters, y'all.

In the meantime, please know that despite the radio silence, there's still plenty of oyster exploration going on in my world. Thanks to those of you who are still keeping track.

Hi. We're new here. Where should we eat?

We've officially found our way to Tennessee--and for the last five or six weeks, have been taking every possible opportunity to eat our way through Nashville. But, between the time change, adjusting to our temporary home with family friends Jim and Carol, and the culture shock of adjusting from the surly northeast to the oh-so-friendly south, we are just barely starting to feel settled, let alone find our new watering hole. The good news is, we have found oysters! Right after we arrived, I started a new job with Nashville Lifestyles, a luxury magazine that covers all there is to know about living the good life down here. Being back in an office after all these years working from home (or on the farm) was by far the biggest challenge I've faced since the book release. But, I'm taking advantage of my exploratory phase and quickly found a way to do some research on oysters (there's a handy reference guide for Nashville oyster lovers in the November issue). A trip to The Southern with my coworkers netted several dozen (Wellfleets, Kumos, Beau Soleils...) as well as an appreciation for their oyster program and shucking skills, both of which are solid.

Meanwhile, Dave and Charlie settled into a day-to-day routine at the house, which is about to be turned on its head: Dave has landed a job (yay!) and Charlie is headed to daycare for the first time ever. He's more than ready for the transition -- he tells us every day, in his very own language, how excited he is to meet new friends.

And although the book launch is already a year behind us, I was able to get a few signings in this fall with a swing through the Midwest. Dave and I hit up Milwaukee for a signing at the stunning Harbor House restaurant, where I got to spend the evening with about 50 oyster lovers and the restaurant's incredibly friendly staff. They went out of their way to take us out, show us the town, and left me with the best parting gift ever: an authentic Harley Davidson jacket - huge thanks, Chris!

The next day, we made our way to Chicago for a signing at Shaw's Crabhouse and to attend yet another unforgettable Hall of Fame Dinner. This one was in honor of John Hall, founder of Goose Island Beer Company whose very first wholesale account was Shaw's. The two businesses have clearly grown up together so it was a great celebration to mark John's milestones--and naturally, there were a number of exceptional beers.

Back here in town, Dave and I are back to the task of exploring Nashville's top restaurants (Catbird Seat is high on the list). I'm slowly working my way through the endless number of hip little coffeehouses (which are seriously impressive--they've perfected the vibe down here) but for dining, The Southern will surely be on the regular rotation, as will Merchant's, City House, Holland House, The Pharmacy, Local Taco, and Judge Bean's Barbecue. Our ICOB/Eastern Standard equivalent is still out there, waiting to be found... but we've got plenty of time to make our way down the list. One meal at a time.

Talking Merroir in Chicago, NY and here at home

How did it get to be March already?! The book mobile has been rolling nonstop since the holidays so I've hardly had a chance to breath let alone put something up on the blog. But things have started to slow down -- relatively -- which means it's time to catch you up.

My "world tour" made a quick stop in Chicago where Shaw's Crab House and the culinary group Chicago Gourmet hosted Skip and I for a luncheon and book signing at the Shaw's Oyster Bar. Dave and Charlie joined me, as did my father-in-law Dave along with a few other Murray family members giving me plenty of familial support... but even if I had been by myself, I would have been surrounded by friends. The entire team at Shaw's made us feel like we were part of the family, giving us free reign of the space throughout the day and even inviting us to their staff bowling party later that night (sadly, we were on baby duty...) It was an epic day filled with new friends and plenty of book lovers.

Next stop was New York City where Dave and I went on a much-needed adult-only restaurant crawl hitting up as many oyster bars as we could find. My super quick synopsis is below.

The trip wasn't all research, of course. The guys from Island Creek joined me for an oyster and book event at Peels NYC -- my first NY signing to date. It was great to get back behind the boat for a few minutes and the guys were, as usual, the most popular folks in the place.

In between all of the traveling I taught a merroir class at Boston University. Before tasting through a dozen different oyster varieties, I walked the students through the flavor profiles of four different species: we had East Coasts, Pacifics, Kumos and Olympias. (Unfortunately, the Belons were being finicky.) We dipped into a little oyster lore as well as a bit about how each oyster was grown. The students were fantastic - really engaged, solid questions, and hopefully took away a little ammunition for their next trip to the oyster bar. Behind the scenes, CJ & Hoban from ICO plus Frank & Francisco from ICOB kept the oyster platters filled before joining me out front to offer a quick shucking demo. Overall, I'd say the class was a raging success... and I'll be doing another one at Formaggio Kitchen at the end of April.

There's been a pretty fantastic run of press for the book these past few weeks, too. I'll work on getting the press on my About page updated -- in the meantime, check out the links to my interviews on The Splendid Table and ABC 7 Chicago.

So when does reality kick back in? The past few weeks have brought me back down to earth as we've gotten back into the rhythm of work / home life. But we did take a quick break this past weekend to visit Dave's sister in New Haven -- her family just welcomed their second daughter, Becca Jean on Friday! I'm happy to report that she is healthy, happy, and has a stunning head of hair, just like her big sister.

Despite the book tour quieting down, I'm still swimming knee-deep in oyster work -- mostly thanks to some side work I'm doing with the farm and upcoming classes and oyster program. To answer a question I get asked almost daily, no, I never do get sick of eating those little suckers. Hopefully you won't either.

Notes from the Oyster Trail

As far as year's go, I'd say this one's starting off on the right foot. We spent the first few weekends traveling both for the book and for fun and I've managed to meet a number of die-hard oyster lovers along the way.

My trip to Houston brought me to some of the nicest, most voracious oyster fans I've ever encountered. Brasserie 19 hosted an oyster and wine tasting set for 4 pm on a Friday and sure enough, the place was packed to the gills and completely sold out at over 160 people. The entire crowd was into it, slurping back our selection of East and West coast oysters with genuine excitement for what was on the plate. My Dad, who played manager/bodyguard for the night, got a few pictures but mostly, we just enjoyed chatting up the crowd and spreading oyster cheer.

The following day, Hubbell & Hudson, a fantastic gourmet market in The Woodlands (with its own walk-thru beer cave and on-site cooking school) hosted me for a signing which drew a decidedly different oyster crowd: the kind who enjoy them at home. It was so refreshing to see so many folks who were comfortable with a shucking knife. Admittedly, before I worked for Island Creek, I don't think I would have braved shucking oysters at home on a regular basis...special occasions are one thing but these folks seemed to be bringing oysters home just because it was Saturday. It inspires me to get back into the habit.

We also got to see some of my family's Texas friends, as well as some of the extended ICO family: Shore's aunt, uncle and cousin. It's good to see these pockets of die-hard ICO fans spread throughout the country.

Here in Boston, I've been busy dining my way through oyster menus at spots like Harvest and La Morra. Next up, I'll be doing a signing at the Weston Library this week, followed by a dinner at STIR Boston next Wednesday, Feb. 1. Then it's on to Chicago, a class at Boston University, New York City... yes, it's turning out to be quite a year. For those keeping track, Charlie's now a pro at getting through airport security.

Will I see you on the trail? If not, you'll be able to get a glimpse of SHUCKED on the air a few times in February. My interview with The Splendid Table airs the week of February 18... but before that, our long-awaited appearance on Bizarre Foods will air Monday, February 13 (host Andrew Zimmern gave the book a little love this past fall). Tune in for a look at life on the farm... and hopefully I'll see you out on the road!

PS - Check it out: I made it onto a local bestseller list!

Oyster Travels in 2012: Dinners, pairings, and signings galore

I'm hitting the road this winter to give Shucked a little national love. First stop: Houston. I'll be there January 13-15 doing events at Brasserie 19 and Hubbell & Hudson so if you're down that way, please come out and say hi. I'd love to get to know some folks from the Texas oyster world and hear what's happening down there. As my friend Alison Cook mentions in her exceptional blog post about our long-winding friendship and my book, the Texas oyster season is officially closed due to red tide, which gives us a great excuse to try New England oysters -- but I'd love to learn more about the oyster growers along the Texas coast and what this means to their business. (Speaking of Alison, I have to give her huge props: I never mentioned our encounter in the book but really wanted to. Her encouragement helped propel me into my adventure. Alison - thank you! And I hope to see you in TX.)

I'll also be heading out to Chicago from February 5-7 for an event at Shaw's Crabhouse -- a place I became pretty familiar with on a trip out there in 2009. Skip and I will be hosting an oyster luncheon where they'll be serving recipes from the book after which, I'll be hanging out in the Oyster Bar for a signing during oyster happy hour. (PS - all of the details for these events can be found on Signings and Appearances.)

Closer to home, I've got some really fun events coming up including a very special night we have planned at La Morra in Brookline. Chef Josh Ziskin cooked a meal for some wine-loving friends and I right before I started on the farm -- he paired oysters with gnocchi and it pretty much blew my mind at the time. He and his wife Jen are very kindly hosting a Shucked dinner (four courses, paired with wines for $65) on Wednesday, January 18 at 6:30 pm to commemorate the journey. I hope you'll come out for what is sure to be a stellar meal.

And now, a few notes about our first Christmas with Charlie:

- We hit the road for a ten-day Southern tour stopping first in Charlotte to spend a few days with my family and then made our way to Knoxville to celebrate Christmas with Dave's family.

- The kind and supremely generous folks of Hama Hama Oysters sent out a few dozen of their regular oysters and Blue Pools, which my family and I happily slurped back a few days before Christmas (thanks, Adam!)

- Both my niece Gracyn and Charlie teased the idea of trying oysters. Alas, neither fully took the plunge but I see a couple of oyster lovers in the making.

- We don't have video proof, but after hours and hours of practicing with his Pop-Pop, Charlie had his first official rollover on Christmas morning right at the feet of Grandpa Dave. Of course, no one actually saw him do it but he started off on his back and a minute later, he was on his belly. So we know it happened somehow... and it made for an exciting milestone. Now, if only we can get him to say Mama...

- Charlie got to meet his great grandad Joe, or JoeJoe as the kids call him, another milestone that formed an instant friendship. Between JoeJoe, Charlie's cousin Alice, and the many cousins and aunts and uncles we spent our week with, Charlie was fully entertained during our time in Knoxville (and I think it's safe to say that the rest of the family was, too)!

Thanks to our entire family for making Charlie's first Christmas so special! And to my Mom who created these adorable Shucked aprons...modeled by my parents and our dear friends Carol & Jim right before they shucked several dozen ICOs on New Year's Eve. I have the feeling Dave and I are going to get a lot of use of them out on the road. (And PS: We've got a few extras if anyone's interested!)

Back to Tasting

After enduring a little over 9 months without oysters, I'm now eating my weight in bivalves in order to make up for those painfully empty days. Or at least, that's the excuse I'm using. That, and the fact that I'm promoting an oyster book pretty much give me free reign to eat Island Creeks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I so please.

Just over a year ago, I helped the guys at Island Creek put together an insane oyster tasting that put 18 oysters from both coasts side by side. The tasters included a number of wine experts -- the idea was to create a new set of oyster descriptors, a new language that we could use to better describe the complexity of merroir. The tasting was a huge success in that we collected some out-of-this-world terms (lobster butter, shiitake mushrooms, linden flower) and because I still use a lot of the terms regularly when tasting several different oysters in one sitting. It's the difference between calling a Rocky Nook "salty" (which it is) or saying it has an "olive-like brine." Or recognizing that the toothsome, beef-like bite of a Moon Shoal is balanced by its brown-sugar finish.

These past few weeks, I've had the honor of tasting oysters with some fellow journalists who just happened to be interviewing me for the book (ok, so there was usually bubbly involved but, I swear, we were getting work done) and it occurs to me that there are many, many more oysters out there for me to try. Dave, Charlie and I are headed down to Charleston, SC for the Association of Food Journalists conference tomorrow where I'm told I need to get my hands on some Capers Blades (what a killer name). I'll also be in Philly in November tasting oysters at DiNardo's and look forward to seeing what's on their list.

The point is, I really need to keep practicing. Like with wine, tasting is the only way to improve the palate. So, this past week, I got back to it with some old favorites: Moon Shoals, Beachpoints, Wellfleets, Belons, and of course, Island Creeks. The good news is: I still consider Island Creeks the gold standard of East Coast Oysters... a fact I'm guessing will never change.

So what are your recommendations? Any others out there I need to try?

Another Successful Festival...

Where better to dive back into adult reality than the Island Creek Oyster Festival? I admit I've been a victim of "baby brain" these past few weeks so it felt good to get back down to Duxbury and help out with the nuts and bolts of this massive annual event. I'm not sure how much of a help I was to those who had been immersed in the minute details these last several weeks (Cory, above, included) but at the very least I think I earned a few of the many oysters I downed during the party.

The event kicked off Friday night with the first ever Friends For Haiti fundraiser which brought some big name chefs into the mix. We had Jonathan Benno from Lincoln (nee Per Se) and chefs Brian Huston and Erling Wu-Bower from The Publican in Chicago along with good friends Jody Adams, Angela & Seth Raynor, Jeremy Sewall, and a host of others. There was a fantastic live auction which Angela co-emceed with editor Annie Copps as well as the Festival's first ever "fire pit." Suffice it to say, our little festival is all grown up! The Friday night event proceeds went to Caribbean Harvest, a program founded by Valentin Abe who came up from Haiti for the festivities. He very kindly shared his story with the crowd before the auction, explaining that his work is all about the people he helps. Read more about what he does here.

On Saturday, Island Creek hosted it's annual Oyster Festival complete with thousands of ravenous oyster and food lovers, a couple dozen chefs from Boston and NY, and as always, a killer band. It was a perfect day that turned into an absolutely stunning night, as captured by Dave out on the beach.

We even got Charlie in on the action - his first Festival at just 6 weeks old! Dave nabbed plenty of compliments carrying around his little guy while I took care of my volunteer duties. But we couldn't have done it without the help of my parents, Mimi & Pop Pop. Huge thanks, guys!

The best part of the Fest was seeing these notices plastered all over the merch tent...

Thanks to Elizabeth Burnham for that! Can't wait for that signing, set to take place on Saturday October 22nd at Westwinds Bookshop in Duxbury. Speaking of which, I've created a very handy "Signings and Appearances" page here on the blog where you can keep track of any and all SHUCKED related events. Hope to see you at one of them this fall!

Say hello, Charlie.

Look what we did on our summer vacation! World, meet Charlie. Born July 31st at 6:05 pm, he is the adorable handful that Dave and I are lucky enough to call our own. It's been a wild first few weeks what with the sleeplessness, the feeding, the massive mental shift of sharing our lives and our space with a bouncing, fussing, fully functioning new family addition. But really, we promise we're enjoying every second of parenthood... so far.

In Charlie's first few weeks of life, we got him up to speed on the important things, such as how to enjoy Maryland blue crabs at Eastern Standard's annual Crab Festival (ICOers Skip, Mark, CJ and Shore were all there to help him out and while it wasn't as wild as years past, it certainly gave Charlie a taste for Old Bay) ...

... along with where to go when he wants to get the area's most incredible oysters. Yesterday, Charlie and I took a trip down to Duxbury so that I could be part of a shoot for the television show, Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern. While Charlie didn't quite make it out onto the water, he did get a taste of his first oyster via osmosis. (Physically, he was about 5 minutes away with my friend Jenn in Kingston - which gave mom enough peace of mind to spend her first few hours away from the little peanut and not fret the entire time.) The shoot itself was loads of fun - Andrew put the whole crew at ease and even beat Chris at a shucking contest. I may have even gotten a little plug for SHUCKED into the footage (the episodes airs in February... stay tuned).

Speaking of the book, all systems are go for an October 11th publication date which we'll be celebrating with a number of signings and book-related events. Get in on the fun by "liking" the book on Facebook or keep an eye on the blog where I'll be adding a calendar of upcoming events. We have signings scheduled for Boston, Duxbury, Hingham, Philly, and Wilmington, DE so far... I have the feeling there will be many more to follow.

Until then, if you'll indulge me, I'll keep posting pictures of Charlie and any other fun oyster-related adventures I'm on... now that I'm able to eat them again (post pregnancy), there will be no more excuses for blog neglect. Next stop: Oyster Festival.

The Plight of a Pregnant Food Writer

Please forgive the epically long pause between posts. Life has gotten in the way, once again, now that my time on the farm is over. And if the attention grabbing headline is news to you, I'm sorry that you're reading it on my blog! But it's true: Dave and I are expecting our first son in August. The timing has been fortuitous -- especially since I don't have any mud flat runs in my near future (though I can't wait to get back to it once our little guy arrives). Besides the obvious life change, I've rejoined the world of publishing for a brief stint back at Boston magazine where I'm filling in for the food editor while she's out on maternity leave. I've been back for a few weeks now so I'm finally feeling comfortable in the new routine -- though returning to office life has been a tough adjustment. Let's just say that nothing compares to showing up to work in a hoodie and a pair of mud boots.

And so, my writing career seems to have picked up a few paces in front of where I left off. Thankfully, I'm now focused fully on food. The only downside is that being pregnant brings with it so many restrictions. Wine, obviously, is off limits but so are my beloved oysters in the raw. Moments like this make me want to cry.

Still, I'm grateful that I can put together stories about food and once again, immerse myself back into the restaurant world of Boston, which I adore. This gig is up in May at which point I plan on throwing myself into the freelance world and hunting for work to keep me busy until the baby arrives.

The book, by the way (the book!) is in the copy edit stage, meaning I've turned in the first draft, done a thorough edit, and am now waiting for all of the red marks to come back to me one more time. The process has been eye opening -- not only for the amount of time, emotional energy, and effort that goes into the writing process but for my own feelings toward it. I can honestly say it's as emotional as producing an actual child, complete with the insecurity, pride, guilt, and unconditional love. Having put the book aside for a few weeks (well, sort of... it still lives in a pile by my desk where I pick up pages of it to read every day) I can say that I am truly terrified of letting it go. It's been such an incredible journey and, in some cases, a very tough slog, and every step that I take forward only takes me further away from a life that I loved. My attachment to the entire project grows weaker each day but I can't imagine it being completely done and behind me. It just seems so... final.

To ease the pain, I've thrown myself into this other work, other writing, and into preparing for what will surely be my next big life adventure. I still miss Island Creek every single day but take comfort in the fact that the folks there are still my family and I'm still part of theirs. They've even given our unborn baby its very own nickname (a rite of passage)... Poseidon. Looking forward to finding out if this little guy enjoys being on the water as much as I do.

Speaking of oysters.

Book writing is a tedious business. Up every day, staring at the screen, wondering whether my words are going to fully capture my 18 months at Island Creek or just dip below the surface. But slowly, I slog on, hoping that something cohesive and maybe even witty will come out in the end. What breaks up my day are frequent and often supremely entertaining visits to the Island Creek Oyster Bar. Wednesday's stopover involved a comparative tasting of almost the entire oyster list with the front of house staff. Although the list changes day to day, there are a couple of staples that are starting to become favorites and the staff was eager to try them all side by side. So, we sampled them in flights -- three flights of three oysters plus one palate-whopping finish.

It went like this:

Flight One: Island Creeks, Duxbury, MA Rocky Nooks, Kingston, MA Cuttyhunks, Cuttyhunk, MA

Flight Two: Riptides, Westport, MA Peter's Points, Onset, MA Wellfleets, Wellfleet, MA

Flight Three: Shigoku, Bay Center, WA Hog Island, Tomales Bay, CA Kumamoto, Puget Sound, CA

Finale: Wild Belon, Harpswell, ME

After tasting and taking notes, the staff shouted out descriptors using a new list of oyster language that we devised after a similar tasting (scroll to the bottom) Skip and I ran at Eastern Standard in September. With this new set of oyster words, the staff opened up their vocabulary when describing certain flavor qualities. Instead of creamy, they opted for compound butter, yogurt, or heavy cream. Instead of earthy, they offered musky, miso, and my personal favorite "sea mushrooms" (which don't exist but totally should).

Here are a few other oyster descriptors to try:

SWEETNESS Hard Candy sweet Brown Sugar Natural Sugar Pear, Asian Pear Melon, Green Melon Bay Scallop-sweet Passion Fruit Chamomile Linden Flower Sweet Corn Watermelon Jelly

BRINE Sea Salt, Flake Salt Salt Lick Table Salt Turkey Brine Olive-like, Greek Olive or Picholine Anchovy Creamy, feta-like saltiness Mouthful of ocean Fishiness Salmon flesh

TEXTURE Yogurt Silky Beef-like, steak-like Chewy like a mushroom cap Crunchy like kale Bright Jello, gelatinous Spongey Thick, toothsome A bit dumb, weighty Muscle-like flesh Delicate, disappears Stringy, like bamboo shoots Poofy Velvety

MINERALITY Slate Chalk Coppery Tin-y Zinc Stone Like sucking on a penny Sharp Saffron (like lead) Cooked Cabbage Pepper Green Tea Oxidized Apple Pine, pine needles

FLAVOR Earthy Mushrooms Umami Mossy Seagrass Like licking a mossy rock Muddy, River mud Woodsy Musky Farm-like Barnyard Smoked Meat, Prosciutto Cooked Cabbage Hay Grass Tofu Bready/yeasty Sourdough Uni Vanilla Salted Melon Ripe Cucumber Celery Leaves Fennel Broccoli Greens/Lettuce Funk Green Garlic Miso

Whether the Hog Islands really tasted like "green beans for a tin can" or "had hints of fennel" is still up for debate but I think we all walked away with sturdy understanding that oysters can be much more complex than briny, sweet, or vegetal.

For those keeping track, the wild belons are absolutely stunning this time of year. This is an oyster that was originally introduced to U.S. waters in the 70s by the University of Maine. Experimenters assumed the crop died after they failed to produce but what the oysters were really doing was getting used to their new habitat. Years later, they started reproducing naturally and now grow wild near the shores of Casco Bay. Amanda Hesser covered this story several years ago - a great read about a mind-boggling oyster. If you've never tasted Flats, get ready for a completely unexpected contrast to the brine of the Virginica or the melony cucumber of a Kumo. As Rowan Jacobsen says, this oyster doesn't want to be your friend. But, if you're up for an adventure, this is the time to do it. It's December which means the waters have turned colder up that way, putting the distinct European-flat, mouth-coating hit of metal right around an 11. Also, I'm offering a prize to the person who can pair it with just the right wine. Hint: It may or may not be something sweet. Good luck.

One final meal.

My very last day on the farm ended with a group lunch at Tsang's. Wholesale and the crew... suits and boots... all noshing away on General Gau's and pork spareribs.

While I have plenty to share about my last week on the farm, I'm about to hop on a plane to Portland, Oregon for a week of road tripping up the Pacific Northwest. So, I'll leave you, for now, with some of my favorite Duxbury eateries.

...for the Old Italian...

...for the mac n cheese (and usually a Twix and some cookie samples)...

...for a bagel and the best coffee in town...

...for an IPA, a warm fire, and some laughs...

...for the crabcake sandwich...

...for ham and cheese croissants...

...for the chicken verde burrito...

...for the pulled pork sammy...

... and a fried chicken box lunch.

There will be one more meal to enjoy, just not in Duxbury. The Island Creek Oyster Bar opens for business tonight... around the same time we hop on the plane. My best of luck to everyone who worked their tails off to get that place running. You guys are going to rock. We'll be there as soon as we get back...

Winding Down

In classic Island Creek fashion, my last few weeks on the farm have been packed with some incredible memories. That's right. One week and counting. I don't think I've made any official announcements on this site, so here goes: This spring, I got a book deal with St. Martin's Press. The book, titled SHUCKED, will be a memoir about my time at Island Creek, about leaving the real world to get my hands dirty on an oyster farm, and about my relationship with a farm, a town, and its people. Sadly, my time is almost up but the good news is that I get to take a few months off to write before my deadline in February. If all goes as planned, the book will be out next fall... just in time for peak oyster season.

I won't dwell on how weepy I've been or how I can't imagine a day without a high five from Skip, a smile from Shore, or a hug from CJ. Because while it's way too sad for me to put into words just yet, it's a happy reality for me to face. Not to mention, I don't have time to be sad what with the way I've been spending my days and nights.

This week, the insanity started at the Chefs Collaborative National Summit. I spent Monday sitting in on panels listening to some pretty incredible voices weigh in on the current state of our seafood supply. Chefs Jasper White and Ana Sortun were part of the introductory session and gave some entertaining commentary on how they got connected with local, sustainable cooking. A few of their comments:

Jasper: I was frustrated with the seafood supply so I started my own wholesale company. It was so much red tape, that was five years ago, but I did it so I could get control of my supply. I tell every chef, "you have the right to see what we're doing. Get up at 4 a.m., and come see what we do. Come to the auction, come see what it means to get 6,000 pounds of local swordfish in and what we do with it."

Ana: I think culinary schools should get back in touch with the seasons. At the school I went to [La Varenne Ecole de Cuisine], they had us rip up recipes that weren't in season. We cooked from what was available.

Jasper: [On sustainability lists] The focal point should be on environment instead of a single species. Keep the oceans clean. We'll figure out how to grow it. And we promise, we'll make it taste good.

My next stop was a panel called The Gulf Oil Disaster: What Will Become of our Domestic Seafood Supply? where the discussion was heated. Margaret Curole, an advocate for Louisiana fishermen, was hoarse from all of the speaking she's done since the spill, and was the loudest dissenter of the group. She was frustrated that certain fishing areas had been opened prematurely and even more frustrated with the promotions boards which are pushing for people to eat Gulf seafood. She argued that they are putting pressure on those fishermen to fish when the fishermen themselves are still seeing oil in the water. Chef Stephen Stryjewski, co-owner of Cochon (who, like a true New Orleanian, referred to my favorite bivalves as "ersters") explained that oystermen were losing most of their crop not from oil, but from the fresh water diversion the government approved back in May -- it was meant to save the oyster beds but all of that fresh water has done more harm than good.

After lunch, I checked in on a panel called Is Local Sustainable? A Look at New England Fisheries, where chef Michael Leviton sat down with three fishermen to discuss their reasoning for supporting local fisheries. Two of the fishermen have started community supported fisheries, one from Port Clyde, ME, the other down in Barnstable while Adam Fuller, a former chef talked about becoming a lobsterman with Snappy Lobster in order to open up the supply chain. Their message was: Get to know your local fisherman, learn what's in season, and buy local when you can. Leviton took it one step further, from the chef's perspective: Support the highest quality.

A final panel of the current state of food writing had me intrigued as Tom Philpott of, Corby Kummer of The Atlantic, Jane Black of the Washington Post (and soon to be author), Corie Brown of, and Francis Lam of, hashed out what changes they've observed in the world of food journalism. Despite the massive shift of media from print to online, each sounded optimistic about coverage as a whole. We're getting more news, more stories, and more politics... and seeing less of the fluffy, recipe-driven, cooking content (though, there's still room for that too). What I enjoyed hearing was Philpott's theory that the elite, holier-than-thou gourmands of the past have become story savvy (I'm paraphrasing). They want to soak in their foie gras... but not before finding out who raised it, packaged it, shipped it, and prepared it.

All encouraging news for someone who writes about food online and in print. Especially considering the project ahead of me.

Tuesday, Skip sat on a panel with fellow oyster folks Jon Rowley and Poppy Tooker. Our friend, author Rowan Jacobsen moderated the discussion, which ended with a tasting of east coast, gulf, and west coast oysters. Chris, Shore and I shucked for the group while Skip encouraged the audience to get to know its purveyors and buy from reputable sources.

Tuesday night, we put together a pretty epic oyster table at Eastern Standard: John Finger of Hog Island Oysters was in town so Chris, Shore and I sat down with he and Rowan, as well as ES proprietor Garrett Harker for one of the most luxurious wine dinners I've ever experienced. ES wine director Colleen Hein opened some insane bottles, including a mindblowingly rich H. Billiot brut reserve grand cru... an absolute stunner with our selection of oysters.

And, it was a perfect way to celebrate Bug's 26th birthday, which we did more of on Wednesday. Jeremy Sewall (chef at the new restaurant) very thoughtfully offered to cook for Shore's entire group of friends...inside the almost-ready Island Creek Oyster Bar space. It was the perfect ICO meal: sharing plates, standing at the table, dunking chunks of lobster into butter, passing the wine, and putting down piles of beer. I share these photos reluctantly -- and only because they take place in the kitchen.

Just wait until you see the space. Any day now... I promise.

Ready. Set. Summer.

It begins on Nantucket.

We're still a few weeks away from the official summer equinox but at Island Creek, the season is well underway. And it started, as always, at the Nantucket Wine Fest.

The weekend was packed with shucking, wine tasting, eating and islanding. For Skip, Shore, and the tag along crew, it's become an unforgettable tradition (from what we can remember, anyway).

The weekend started at the White Elephant where Skip did a demo with Angela and Seth Raynor (The Pearl, Boarding House and Corazon del Mar are all theirs -- a common theme through this year's trip) and Jasper White from the Summer Shack. Our oysters kicked things off but the demo was all about seafood. Seth made a ceviche while Jasper shucked an in-shell scallop on stage. We also got an introduction to Abraxas, Robert Sinskey's incredible seafood wine.

The rest of Friday was restful with a leisurely lunch at Corazon where we got to try Seth's tacos (the al pastor was a true gem, bringing me right back to my Mexico City days) and hang out at the bar with Ming and Polly Tsai. After lunch and a few naps, we reconvened on the roof of Skip's condo, another legendary tradition that this year, was quickly put to rest when the cops told us to come down. We blame our neighbors for the tip off.

From there, we scurried over to Straight Wharf Restaurant to help Chef Gabriel Frasca and his crew open their bar for the season. It was insanity from the start with free oysters and wine but we all crunched in behind the raw bar and kept the oyster loving people happy.

Saturday was our first day at the tents where we once again set up shop on the lawn. We were blessed with three perfect Nantucket days -- sunny skies and warmer than average temps -- as well as a fun crowd of fans dressed, naturally, in their Nantucket finest.

During our lunch break (a quick Lola burger and fries), we started a new tradition by powering up the tandem bike. It went with us everywhere, from the lawn to the Pearl and back again.

After another respite, it was over to The Pearl where Shore booked the private dining room for our crew. Big bottles of wine and shenanigans ensued but as usual, the meal was an incredible display. And, as you can tell, the scallop ceviche won my heart.

We somehow made our way downstairs after dinner to shuck for yet another restaurant party, wrapping things up sometime after 1 a.m. Sunday, of course, was a tough morning to tackle but we started off on the right foot with brunch at the BoHo Patio. (crumbed eggs! frites! the most amazing yogurt with Nantucket honey on the planet!)

That was, of course, followed by the final day at the tent where we were joined by Dave who arrived in time for the first glass of wine.

With hugs, we said goodbye to our weekend friends like Nicole Kanner and Lisa Baker but carried on with our final raw bar stop back at the BoHo Patio where Angela broke out the L.P.

And that, my friends, is Nantucket in a nutshell. Whew.

Of course, I came back, regrouped and got myself together because this was my first week back on the farm. The crew is back (Maggie! Pops! Quinn!). The farm is back to life (we're hand picking, putting in big hauls, and culling in the sunshine). And yes, it truly is summertime again since yesterday, we put our first seed into the upwellers (cue my summertime stress) just as the Opening of the Bay tall ship came into the harbor.

Skip got his seed from Maine in the afternoon which went right into a few silos. It's much bigger this year so we were able to put some of it onto window screen which will give it more water flow to start.

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more about "YouTube - Skip gets the seed settled", posted with vodpod

After this weekend, we'll have one upweller completely full (Skip's filling the rest of the silos today) and another one fired up by Tuesday. As Skip and I finished up, we looked at one another shaking our heads. Just like that, we're at it again. "Ok," he said grinning. "Day One is behind us."

Looks to be yet another crazy summer of seed. You ready?

South Beach 2010

Yes, it's cold out there (still). But there are some mighty wonderful perks to working on an oyster farm in the winter. One being that you're allowed to trade one beach for another.

During the insanity of the summer, it was hard to believe we'd ever get a break or that I'd ever recover from the physical (and, um, mental) exhaustion. But as with the tide and the cycle of farming, there are ebbs and flows. Now, it's clear to me why things just have to slow down in the winter. Your body -- and mind -- need a break.

After 2 months in the office, it seemed that break would never come. Sure, I'm now sitting behind a desk instead of laboring under crates and freezing temps on the farm. But that means very little in terms of the amount of work I've accomplished since Jan 1. There was the madness of the Stout launch as well as a series of back-to-back shucking events. At at the tail end of it came the South Beach Wine & Food Festival, which we made our way home from late last night.

The Festival served a few purposes for Island Creek: to get the brand in front of some well-known chefs and to introduce food lovers to the convenience of our online store (ahem: you can order our oysters direct to your door). As the temporary marketing chica, I went down to show off all the things I'd learned (and love) about ICO.

The dynamic, I have to admit, was a little weird for me. In the past, I've attended these events as a member of the press, or in some cases just for fun. I would go to eat and drink, to pick up story ideas, and of course, to shmooze. I never pictured myself on the other side of it working the events as a part of the staff and dealing with the logistics of moving to and fro while catering to a crowd.

But after shucking at three events in a whirlwind 28-hour period, I'm satisfied to say, I prefer being on the other side.

A quick rundown on why:

-- Watching The Ace of Cakes cast fall in love with our oysters and our tshirts.

-- Shucking side by side with Chefs Daniel Boulud and Ken Oringer.

-- Slurping oysters with chefs Ming Tsai (Blue Ginger), John Besh (Restaurant August), and Ryan Hardy (Montagna at the Little Nell).

-- Marching the raw bar down Collins Ave at 3 a.m. behind a pair of 3-inch heels (and then sitting down to a late-late-late night dinner of pizza, hummus, and brie).

-- Setting up at The Delano (sadly, without being able to take home a Tiffany's box)

Chasing rainbows.

-- Doing the YMCA at Disco and Dim Sum with Ming, The Cushmans (O Ya), chef Tim Love (Lonesome Dove), and (a very hungry) Eric Ripert (Le Bernadin).

-- And if all that weren't enough, enjoying a million laughs with my animated, industrious crew. (Thank you thank you thank you CJ, Shore, Asia & Nicole!)

There are details I'm leaving out but for good reason. A) My wrists are tired. B) The pictures tell the best parts of the story. C) You can find some of the rest on the Island Creek website. (Pssst: We have a news blog. Guess who's writing it?)

Oyster Stout Brew Day

I woke up with butterflies in my stomach on brew day. After months of planning, contemplating, and strategizing, we were finally going to Harpoon to shuck oysters for the Island Creek Oyster Stout.

After a quick stop at Lucky's Lounge (we're planning a stout party there in late February), Shore and I made it over to Harpoon where 6 bags of oysters awaited. Dave Grossman had been at the brewery snapping photos all day and when we got there, a reporter and photographer from the Herald were capturing the event for a piece that ran in the next day's paper.

Inside the cavernous brewery, we got to work counting out and shucking oysters for the brew itself. Brewer Katie Tame had tested various recipes for the stout and her final version required exactly 180 per batch. Katie does a nice job explaining what exactly the oysters are doing inside the stout for the Herald piece:

Not to worry, drinking the beer won’t be like downing an oyster shooter, nor will there be an intense oyster flavor, according to brewer Katie Tame. The oysters are poached in the heat of the liquid during the brewing process and disintegrated.

“All those proteins boost up the body of the beer, and an increased protein content adds head retention, which is great for the stout,” said Tame, the first female brewer for the 100 Barrel series that started in 2003.

“A lot of the oyster quality - be it the brine or actually the oyster itself - will blend with the darker malts,” she said.

The expected result is what Tame describes as a full-bodied beer that’ll be a bit sweet, with lots of roasted flavor, “bready, biscuity” flavors from the malt and a little dryness at the finish.

Along with Harpooners Bill Leahy and Liz Melby, Katie grabbed a shucking knife and got busy helping Shore and I shuck. We collected the meats into a huge stock pot which Katie dropped into the boil later that afternoon.

By the time Skip and his daughter Maya showed up, we were feeling a little like zoo creatures -- we'd attracted quite a crowd of onlookers (the tasting room was in full swing by that point) and there were cameras everywhere.

But we muscled through and got all 540 oysters opened (180 per batch/3 batches) with a little fortification from a couple pints of Munich Dark and Ginger Wheat - always helpful when shucking bare-handed.

So now what? We wait two weeks for the brew to ferment and then we'll head back to the brewery for Bottling Day on February 5th. Personally, I can't wait to crack one of these heady brews and taste it alongside a couple of freshly shucked oysters. Once it's bottled, we're on a whirlwind schedule of tasting events and activities. Part of my fun new office gig is helping the guys plan and put on events and we've got a ton planned around the launch of the beer. While I've never been that interested in marketing, this is a part of the job I can get into (I think I can add event planner to my resume now).

Meanwhile, back on the farm...

Yes, we're still harvesting oysters. Despite all this business with beer and parties, the guys are out on the water every day, pulling up our now-dormant oysters. It's been a weird winter, though. We're starting to see growth on our seed which is not supposed to happen when the water temps are in the high 20s. Might be the January thaw? It's hard to say but we're keeping an eye on it.

The farmers are also putting in orders for new batches of seed. Believe it or not, the cycle starts up again in just a few short months. Both Skip and John Brawley have put in orders and are starting to strategize for the season. Hard to believe we're talking about upwellers and river trays already. Must mean spring is right around the corner.

Skip's Winter Feast

There's a reason they call it The Clubhouse. The office is a revolving door. Characters come and go, news filters in and out, and the day is peppered with fun, crazy, and sometimes unbelievable events. The growers are in and out, we're on the phone taking orders all morning, Corydon and CJ spend a lot of time leaning on furniture while waiting for orders, and to my happy surprise, there are plenty of snacks. Aside from having to adjust to a constant seated position (I miss being on my feet... I'm antsy) and being able to see, smell, and feel the oysters all day, it's really not so bad.

There are, of course, more visitors than there were on the float. Some are unexpected (like a friend from the Division of Fisheries and Wildlife who stopped by yesterday) while others are a pleasant surprise. Last week, it was Per Se Chef Jonathan Benno, his wife Liz and their daughter Lucy who stopped by to tour the farm and spend the night in Duxbury.

They were in town for quick getaway while the restaurant was closed. (Jonathan said having the doors closed gave him his only opportunity to relax.) After arriving on a hectic, chilly afternoon, the whole family went down to the water with Skip and Shore for a tour of the float and the waterfront. Skip's parents, Nancy and Billy, had offered them a place to stay for the night so they decamped for the afternoon before leaving Lucy with Shore's sister Hadley (a first-class babysitter) to join us back at Skip's house for dinner.

I'd seen Skip cook feasts on the float but had yet to enjoy a meal at his house. That afternoon we sat down to hash out the menu, which he pulled together on the spot (clearly he's done this before) and then broke off to run errands. Back at his place, I worked on some easy prep while Shore helped Skip put together a new bench for the table. My mom called as we were prepping and asked who was handling presentation (it was, after all, the chef from Per Se). But Skip was all over it. We would feast at an oyster farmer's house in the oyster farmer manner: family style.

We started with a platter of Billy's shrimp, a plate of oysters (Liz had her first Patriot Oyster), some fresh clams, cheeses, and prosciutto. Plus, Don Merry had called. He'd shot a duck that morning. Could he swing by with his son Ben and bring us a little? Jonathan was psyched. Don showed up with a plate of roasted duck breast which we ate with our fingers, dipping them into a raspberry jam he'd made from raspberries off of our friend Myrna's farm. CJ was the last to arrive carrying in a pizza box. We gathered around him in the kitchen as he opened it slowly. Inside was an incredible spread of charcuterie made by our friend Jamie Bissonnette at his new restaurant Coppa as well as a rich and creamy washed-rind cheese from Formaggio Kitchen. Billy was a huge fan of the tongue pastrami.

We set the table with mismatched cups and silver (Skip and I called it 'farmer chic') and sat down to platters of Caesar salad (the dressing was Skip's made with fresh anchovies), garlicky spaghettini with littleneck clams and lobsters steamed by Skip's neighbor Peter. We passed around a bottle of Au Bon Climat and later opened a dust-covered 1988 Australian Cabernet that Peter had been saving for 18 years.

Skip doled out heaping plates of pasta and we all got to work. At one end of the table, Nancy described her favorite way to catch eels (bobbing for them, of course) and (reluctantly) shared her secret ingredient for lobster rolls (I'm saving that one for myself). At the other end, Skip told Jonathan and Liz stories about the farm and Peter's wife Ligaya explained how she'd had to toss out her clothes just so Peter could carry that bottle of Cabernet back in their suitcase all those years ago.

As we finished up with a French Memories meringue tart, Jonathan and Liz let us weigh in on naming his new, upcoming restaurant (he's leaving Per Se at the end of this month to start the next chapter -- an Italian concept near Lincoln Center). While I'm certain he already has the name picked out, we tossed around a few ideas for fun.

I loved watching Jonathan's face throughout the meal. He sat there smiling, almost in childlike awe, at the sight in front of him. I don't imagine he gets many invites from people anxious to cook for him considering his role at Per Se -- let alone take the time to sit down and enjoy a long meal with friends. But watching he and Skip, the farmer and the chef, sharing food that had come off the water that day and stories about their worlds was an unforgettable experience. I'm guessing it was for him, too.

So I take back what I said there not being anything exciting going on at the office. Clearly, it's nonstop action. In fact, we've got a busy couple weeks coming up and I already have a full plate.

Now, if I can just get used to sitting down all day...

Per Se: Part II (Dinner)

Our dinner reservation was for 8 pm so after a quick costume change, I met Skip and Shore back at the Time Warner Center. Walking through the restaurant's sliding glass doors felt completely surreal - I'd spent the day working behind the scenes, watching the kitchen hustle before and during service. Now, I had the rare opportunity to admire the hard work from the other side.

Skip and Shore had given the front-of-house staff a quick presentation about Island Creek earlier in the afternoon at a pre-service meeting. Benno ribbed the guys about being Red Sox fans but then offered them the floor where Skip spoke about our oysters as well as the Nantucket Bay scallops and razor clams we sell. The staff fired a few questions at Skip (how did he prefer to eat his own oysters; who caught our scallops) before he handed things over to chef David who went over the menu for the day. Again, there was a round of insightful questions: Was there lobster in the mousseline? Where was the sea bream from? Was there bacon in the lentils? How long had the beef been braised? They weren't just prepping for their customers. They were genuinely curious about the food itself. (I sat next to a friend of mine, Andrew Newlin, a captain who's been at Per Se for three years; Andy and I went to high school together but I didn't realize he worked there until I saw his smiling face when I accidentally walked through the front door instead of the service entrance for my stage. Though it was brief, I really enjoyed catching up with him for the day.)

Maitre'd Chloe Genovart then went through that night's seating chart. Skip, Shore and I sat in amazement as they listed the parties that would be dining alongside us. Many were regulars (the servers had long memories, pointing out how many times guests had been to the restaurant) and even more seemed to be VIPs (doctors, a baroness, magazine editors). The fact that everyone on staff was clued into who would be dining that evening made our arrival seem even more official - they knew our moves before we could even make them.

We sat down to glasses of champagne and the restaurant's signature salmon cornets and Gruyere gougeres. Our captain, Antonio Begonja, arrived with menus that turned out to be more fun than for real - inside, the guys found photos from this year's NY Yankees World Series win. We weren't going to need menus. The chefs had already created an incredible 23-course journey that would take us almost 5 hours to finish. And while I could wax for hours about every course, I'll spare you the gut-busting details and hit you with the highlights.

Course 1 (after the two amuse, of course): The Patriot Oyster This was Skip's favorite way to eat an oyster with a slight modification: Raw, splash of vodka and a slice of jalapeno (he usually takes his with green Tabasco - the jalapeno was a nice touch)

Course 3 Oysters and Pearls I relished every bite knowing how hard Kenny worked on each element of the dish. The texture blew me away - rounded pearl after rounded pearl, the dish is about layers and levels of firmness. The caviar explodes while the oysters and tapioca practically melt together. You can taste the oyster in the tapioca base but just slightly - it's the sauce (Kenny kept bringing up the sauce) that pulled it all together. Vermouth, a hit of vinegar, and all that rich and wonderful butter. Twelve outstanding bites.

Course 5 Nantucket Bay Scallops This dish haunted both Skip and I all night. A small mound of Pacific sea urchin sat atop our scallops and a tiny bit of pickled ginger and a thinly curling paper-thin slice of crispy rice paper. The sea urchin was gentle and addictive but never masked the sweetness of the scallops. Skip called it the best dish he's ever eaten.

Course 6 Duxbury Razor Clam The clam meat was just barely cooked through and served on the shell in three small segments with broccolini leaves a hint of Meyer lemon and Spanish capers. Shore was a huge fan.

Course 7 Abalone "Rockefeller" I'd never tried abalone before - the meat was firmer than I thought it would be and it was covered with a jolt of mousseline hollandaise and bits of bacon and spinach. I spent several minutes examining the shell, trying to figure out how abalone are harvested. Picking up on my fascination, our waitstaff cleaned out and boxed up our abalone shells, offering them to us as parting gifts.

Course 8 White Truffle Oil-Infused Custard This has been called a TK signature and will be a personal lifelong memory. Served inside a hollowed out egg, the truffle-oil infused custard is topped with a black winter truffle and veal reduction "ragout." The display itself makes the dish - only about half of the eggs they cut are usable. And it was paired with a stunning wine called Radikon, which thrilled me for it's odd resemblance to an unfiltered cider or even a pale ale. I could not get enough.

(One dish later, as they were clearing the table, our team of servers asked if we were ready to get started. The meal had really just begun.)

Course 11 Terrine of Hudson Valley Moulard Duck Foie Gras The presentation here included a set up of six salts from around the world (Himalayan, Hawaiian, French) This would be one of my "last meal" dishes - toasted, crumbly slabs of brioche, perfectly placed celery branch "ribbons," slivered breakfast radishes, and of course, the impossibly rich slice of foie gras. Luxury on a plate.


Course 13 Butter-poached Nova Scotia Lobster Mitt The mitt is really more of a knuckle and was placed alongside tender tortellini filled with forest mushrooms. My shredded black trumpets made an appearance, as did the slivers of young French leeks I helped prep. Skip appreciated the lobster meat, calling it his new favorite lobster dish.

Course 14 Carnaroli Risotto Biologico Along with the lobster, this was the one-two punch of the night. The creamy risotto was really just a blank canvas for what was to come. Chloe presented us with an ornamental wooden box which housed a massive, overwhelmingly fragrant white truffle. She held it in a piece of cloth and shaved slivers of it onto the risotto directly under my nose before another server drizzled a spoonful of melted brown butter over top, blowing the aroma into the depths of my skull. It was the most seductive dish any of us had ever experienced. Watching the deliberately intrusive shaving ritual, inhaling the aroma, tasting the subtle, earthy flakes... a blog post isn't the venue to tell you how it really made me feel. But damn, was it memorable.

Course 16 Rib-eye of Marcho Farms' Veal Roti a la Broche They presented the rib eye before slicing and serving it - it was skewered on a medieval-looking sword which then showed up on Skip's plate. A few bites of sweetbreads and squash puree, layers of salt, meat, and dripping juice - this dish could have been a meal on its own.

Course 19 Coffee and Doughnuts One of three desserts, this one was about as complex as coffee and doughnuts could be. The cappuccino was actually a semifreddo served beside a couple of deliciusly cakey house-made pastries. I had just about hit my max but managed to put the whole thing down.

Mignardises The chocolate presentation would have to be boxed up. By this point, it was well past midnight and the dining room was empty. But as we stumbled into our coats and out into the night, the staff waved us off sending us out with goodie bags and enormous, unbelieving smiles.

I've never had an experience like that before, but would no doubt welcome it again (though only at Per Se; by the end of the night, the dining room with its glowing fireplace felt more like the living room of a friend's apartment than a four-star restaurant).

It's clear after my time there, both in the kitchen and the dining room, that Per Se is not meant to be a mere restaurant where one can eat, linger, and remember. It's designed for everyone involved: the diner, the line cook, the back server, the chef de cuisine. It's a place to learn about, immerse oneself in, and idolize the entire art of gastronomy.

It is a temple to dining.

And an experience I'll never forget.

Per Se: Part I (The Stage)

"Sense of Urgency" There are a million tiny details about Per Se that I could bore you with (how I shredded black trumpet mushrooms into a million pieces, pitted 180 olives, or lined up dozens of tiny baby leeks to cut into perfect one-inch slivers). These details, while fascinating to me (Dave said I sounded like a kid on Christmas as I recounted them all to him), will most likely not have the same effect on you. Instead, I'll tell you that the phrase above is placed strategically around the kitchen (above doorways, mostly) and that because of it (and the fact that they're working for chef Thomas Keller) everyone there either runs or scurries. At all times.

Oysters and Pearls at the pass

At Per Se, Oysters & Pearls goes by OandP (from server to the pass, those letters rang out all day during my stage, or kitchen trail). Chef Keller came up with the idea in 1995 - he was inspired by the word "pearls" written on a box of tapioca and decided to pair them with their source of origin, the oyster. Today his tapioca/oyster/caviar dish is served daily at both Per Se and The French Laundry.

While the point of my visit was to watch the dish prepared from beginning to end, I picked up more than a few basics. I got to glimpse of the inner workings of a perfectly engineered machine.

I arrived at the restaurant (on the 4th floor of the Time Warner Center) at noon and was promptly taken on a kitchen tour by Gerald San Jose, the restaurant's culinary liaison. The 5,300 square foot kitchen (the whole restaurant is 12,500 sqft), he explained is broken down into pastry, storage, prep, private dining, and the line (there are also offices, more storage, 18 reach-in refrigerators and a temperature-controlled chocolate room). We walked through dry storage where they keep the very few canned items they use as well as their cooking vinegars and oils. ("The finishing vinegars are kept under lock and key," he said with a short laugh.)

From there, it was on to the line where I met chef David Breeden, the intricately tatooed sous chef who took me through the paces. The line, or main kitchen, is small for what it produces, but every section is strategically placed. The pass, where dishes are expedited to servers during service, is actually a stainless steel island in the center of the kitchen that acts as a prep station during the day but is transformed before service into a paper-covered counter - the chefs stand on one side, the servers approach from the other. It's also covered with every menu for the night; there are several prix fixe menus plus the salon's a la carte menu along with that day's menu from The French Laundry. The famous closed-circuit flatscreen TV system which connects the two kitchens by a webcam is perched directly overhead so the two staffs can watch each other work.

Chef David introduced me to Kenny Cuomo, canape chef de partie, who I'll get back to in a minute. Following our oysters, I spent an hour with seafood butcher, Santiago Jimenez, a friendly, towering guy from the Dominican Republic who's worked there since the restaurant opened in 2004. He had a plastic bin of Island Creeks at his station and was quickly opening and separating them. (He shucks around 1200 oysters per week which puts him at about 300,000 over the course of his career.) As he shucked, he told me how he'd just broken his favorite shucking knife (it was 7 years old) and showed me his other butcher knives which had been sharpened and sheered down to practically nothing. With each oyster, he was careful not to puncture the belly but slid the knife gingerly between the top muscle and the shell before scooping the meat and all of the oyster juice into a plastic deli container. He then trimmed the bellies by holding the oyster meat flat against the top of his palm snipping away the outer meat with a pair of needle-nosed scissors. In three quick snips he had a perfect almond-shaped nugget (the trimmings were also reserved). He handed me the scissors to try a few, then put me to work trimming the rest. (Careful not to trim too much, I got the hang of it after about 30 but once Santiago started snipping beside me I realized what a snail I was - he finished 4 in the time it took me to do one. Practice.)

So, the oysters are separated: bellies, juice, trimmings. The three containers are sent to Chef Kenny at the canape station. Kenny was a whirling dervish, kind and funny but always moving, always gliding through projects and his work. Each day, Kenny prepares O&P and each day, he strives for absolute perfection. "There are variables, always variables, that can change or adjust the dish. But my job is to make it perfect regardless," he told me quietly as he worked.

We started with the tapioca, which had been soaked in milk for 8 hours. In a pot, he heated milk and cream, then added a deli container of oyster trimmings (from about 170 oysters). While they steeped, he got his sabayon mise en place ready: 14 egg yolks, 170 ml of oyster juice, and a bain marie (hot water bath).

Thomas Keller has been making this dish since he opened the French Laundry, Kenny explained. "That's 15 years of perfection every day," he said a little wide-eyed. He showed me the dishware that was specifically designed for O&P by Raynaud (the flat, round dish has a 2-inch round cup in the center and a subtle, white-on-white houndstooth check around the trim).

the dishware

Back at his station, he whipped heavy cream in a mixer and set it aside. He strained the oyster trimmings from the cream infusion, then added the tapioca pearls and the infusion to the same pot and returned it to a low heat. He started his sabayon, whisking the egg yolks and oyster juice together.

"Both have to come together at the same moment for this whole thing to work," he said as he stirred both seemingly at once. He handed me the tapioca spoon.

I stirred and watched him whisk until the tapioca became firmer -- then suddenly Kenny declared, "We're ready." He folded the sabayon gently into the tapioca and handed me a black pepper grinder. "100 cracks, please, chef," he said as I got busy counting to 100 (something I'm used to on the farm). He folded the whole mixture together and then quickly moved us over to the patisserie station where he had room to set up his dishware.

Taking a little of that reserved whipped cream, he folded some into the tapioca to keep it from firming up (which it would do as the mixture cooled). Using a large spoon, he doled perfect portions into each of the dishes (90 covers for the night; he got 89 servings out of his batch) before setting them aside on trays to chill until service.

In the meantime, he pulled together the poaching liquid: 1.8 pounds butter, 125 ml oyster juice, 125 ml champagne vinegar, 250 ml Noilly Prat vermouth.

At that point, Kenny was off to work on other dishes and I got busy helping with some other prep work. As I was slicing olives later on, Kenny leaned over and whispered: "Look at you, Chef. You're cooking at Per Se." Ha! I laughed a little. Actually, I was chopping at Per Se. But it certainly felt grander than any other chopping I'd done in my life.

Chef de Cuisine Jonathan Benno introduced himself in the middle of the day and while I didn't get to spend much time with him he was helpful and accommodating. Skip, Shore, and Matthew love Benno, or JB as they call him. And he, in return, gives them an incredibly hard time about the Red Sox (during a pre-meal staff meeting, he presented them with "I heart NY" t-shirts and a couple jabs about the World Series win).

I was invited to stay for a small part of dinner service and watched as the kitchen transformed into its "hectic" pace. The energy shifted ever so slightly; folks moved a little faster and heads were buried together at the pass while finishing touches were put on a dish. Nothing seemed frantic or harried, it just moved, rhythmically and in sync, like a well-rehearsed dance. (Though at one point, the phone rang and the whole kitchen stopped and held its breath. All eyes went towards the television and then to the phone's caller ID. JB picked it up, spoke quietly, hung up, and went over to whisper something to Chef David. Later, I asked JB if that was Chef Keller on the phone. "No," he said. "But when the kitchen phone rings during service, it's only one of two people. Chef Thomas or someone at the French Laundry.")

I stood beside Kenny as he plated a few O&P's. The dish moved quickly: the order came in (the sous chef calls out the ticket and the whole kitchen repeats the order in unison, then by station - "table 26!"-- "table 26 CHEF!"), Kenny pulled a prepared dish off a prep tray. It went into a warming oven while he put two perfect oyster bellies into a small pot along with a ladle of poaching liquid and some fresh chives. The pudding came out, Kenny spooned the sauce and oysters over top of the pudding, filling the cup almost to the brim.

Kenny pulled out Ossetra or sturgeon caviar and carefully draped it atop the dish, which was then sent to the pass and given a swipe with a towel. Chefs Jonathan and David examined the plate, which was then carried out of the kitchen by one of the waitstaff.

Oysters & Pearls: the plated dish

Of course, this description is brief and utterly simplified but the level of precision that is achieved within it, and every dish at Per Se on a daily basis, is mind blowing. Every minuscule component is pored over: every sliced olive, every oyster, every perfectly slivered artichoke heart. I stood beside an extern from the CIA, Ethan, as he tirelessly diced a small stack of Aji Dulce peppers until they were practically liquified (he was stretching his forearm by the end). Those peppers appeared as a mere bite on a cod dish later that evening but his efforts seemed monumental. From beginning to end, O&P probably takes Kenny and Santiago a combined three hours to prep and serve. Once on the table, it's gone in about four bites. There is a standard here which has been set higher than almost any other restaurant in the world -- and the preparation behind every dish lives up to that.

Of course, the chefs I met seemed content to be right where they were. At 4:20 on the nose (ahem), a server delivered plates mounded with staff meal (barbecue pork, two different salads, sauteed greens, and a macaroon) and throughout the entire day, no matter how high tensions would rise (a dish wasn't thoroughly worked out for a VIP that night; timing was tight on prep) no one raised their voice and everyone calmly and respectfully addressed each other as "chef." Granted, there was ribbing and poking fun (a good amount directed at me) but overall, there wasn't an ounce of attitude or pretension.

On top of it, they fed me well. Both here and when we sat down to dinner a few hours later (stay tuned for part II).

Prepping for Per Se

The menu at Per Se simply calls it: OYSTERS AND PEARLS "Sabayon" of Pearl Tapioca with Island Creek Oysters and Sterling White Sturgeon Caviar

Nothing to it, right? Tapioca with oysters and a hit of caviar. Right. Except when it's part of a $275 tasting menu at one of the country's finest restaurants. Clearly there's more work behind it than words on a menu.

Chef Thomas Keller has been using our oysters since he opened Per Se in 2004. On an ever-changing menu, this dish is actually one of the very few that remains available daily. The oysters we send him are a specific cull, a compact shape and deep-cup (called the Per Se), which gives the kitchen exactly what they need to pull together the elements of the dish. After we cull them out, A2 counts and bags every one of them to ensure that Per Se gets the same bag of oysters every time.

While I've never eaten any of Chef Keller's restaurants, I know that he and his kitchen staff put an incredible amount of research into the ingredients they use and hand selected our oysters after one of their chefs spent time on our farm. Tomorrow, I'll be down in New York to spend a day in Per Se's kitchen to get an up-close view of how exactly they prepare our oysters. My goal is to follow the dish from beginning (when our oysters hit their door) to very end (when they arrive bound in tapioca, cut down to the belly and laced with sturgeon caviar). With any luck and good note-taking, I'll also be able to report on how a kitchen like this is run.

Naturally, having had very little professional kitchen experience but knowing the caliber of restaurant I'm about to gain access to, I'm jumping out of my skin right now. I have everything I might need (basic knife kit, empty notebook, couple pens, camera) along with a million questions... but I'll refrain from asking them all at once. I think my only approach is to treat it like any other kitchen stage: stand back, watch, and learn. Hoping to put the first of two posts up this weekend with details on the day followed quickly with details on the dinner. And photos, of course. Wish me luck.

Saving daylight and a few words about the Gulf

ICO fall Ah, yes. The sun's started setting earlier this week which means our days on the farm are about to get a bit shorter. For me this means no longer driving to work in the dark -- which makes me feel like I'm part of the land of the living for awhile. But A2 kept joking yesterday that we needed to get a move on since the sun would be setting soon (this was at 2:30). So yes, there's been a shift, albeit slight.

ico fall2

We've also seen all our gorgeous red and golden leaves start to drop, the cranberry bogs flooded and harvested, and the chickens start to fatten up for winter. The winds are picking up (we had what felt like 1-ft waves on the harbor yesterday) and I'm pretty sure we've gone through whatever pleasant fall days this season had in store for us. Oh well.

We had a skeleton crew last week with Berg and Skip traveling to Zanzibar and Will in Houston for a few days. By Friday, it was just A2 and I doing some quiet work on the float. This week, we're back up to speed and have a boatload of work to get done. We still have seed (!) in cages on the lease that needs to be planted. Once that comes out, we still have to pull cages, get our bags put away and make sure everything is stored and secure for the winter (we're stowing everything at a very friendly farm near the water). Lots of busy work, which feels a little like spring cleaning did, but there's a little more urgency since we never quite know what the weather's going to bring.

Right now, our oysters are right about at their peak - Dave and I tried a few on Friday just to be sure - as they are all over the country what with water temps dropping everywhere for the winter. But down south, the Gulf is dealing with a new challenge: the FDA has proposed a new regulation that all oysters harvested in Gulf waters during the summer months need to be processed, or hit with "mild heat or low-level gamma radiation." The regulation wouldn't go into effect until 2011 but the news has been extremely sobering for such a small industry.

Obviously I am a huge proponent of eating oysters raw, especially right out of the water. What this regulation is trying to combat is a bacteria called Vibrio vulnificus which is extremely rare but can be lethal to people with weakened immune systems. It's not something we deal with in New England (fortunately) since the water temperatures stay below a point that propagates the bacteria. But for our friends in the southern oyster farming industry, this regulation, is going to pose enormous challenges and some folks have already spoken out and are lobbying against the ban.

Whatever the outcome, the main message to get across is that we need to support these oyster farmers no matter what. There are an important number of jobs and lives that depend on this industry's success (mine included, now) and all we can do to help is eat more oysters.