memories of an oyster picnic

So it's been a little while since the last post; I've been felled by a great smacking head cold for the last few days and the meds have make me reluctant to stare at a computer screen for much more than facebook updates (sad but true)...but today I'm back up and at 'em - or up and at them, rather - and as always, huuuungry!

It's been bright and spring-like the last couple of days in the old T.O., quite promisingly so. And so, through my blanket wrapped, neo-citran addled haze, I've been daydreaming about all the lovely things I would do once I became footloose and fancy free again.

I've had, most recently, oysters and caviar on the brain. That, combined with a little selective bedside reading (in the form of, hmm, a promisingly spring-like themed cookbook about picnics) led me to swoony, misty-eyed memories of a picnic D and I had last year, complete with our improvised version of an oyster plate...funny how such things come full circle!

Just think, picnic season is just around the corner again...(yes, I am an eternal optimist!)

But really, does this just not promise a great afternoon in the works?

There is something to be said about the very idea of a picnic, isn't there? Something hopeful, naive, even, or as my trusty cookbook muses:

Picnic. It's one of those evocative words...an invocation, images rising up like clouds of mosquitoes; car blankets and wicker hampers, soft linen and Merchant Ivory films, buzzing summer meadows and springtime sylvan romance. That's a lot for six little letters to carry...

It's true, you could let the occasion get all bogged down by too much baggage, if you let it. Better yet to do the impromptu thing and grab a backpack, fill 'er up with some essential tools, and hope to get some great supplies on the way to the park...

Tools of the trade.



Some sweet stuff to snack on...cold cherries and fizzy cc lemon. Instant dessert!

We are, thank goodness, lucky enough to live in an area that boasts one of the tastiest oyster houses in town, located on the south edge of one of the loveliest parks in the city. Talk about (culinary) kismet!

Me attempting to shuck on our impromtu board - yay for frisbees!



D works it out freehand - showoff....



Cold, briny goodness on a sunny day. How great would a frosty beer be with this? (Hmm, idea for next time...)



The wreckage after. Such tasty goodness, sticky fingers be damned!

Of course, the restaurant version of this experience is all well and good, and if done very well, definitely inspiring and entertaining. In this case though, no amount of table service or crumbing or wine pairing suggestions could have made this day any sunnier or more thoroughly enjoyable. (What's not to love about an oyster picnic anyways?) As the saying goes, wherever you go, there you are.

Ain't that the truth. Pass the oysters, please!