I have never consumed an oyster — at least not knowingly. I just can’t bring myself to swallow such a slimy thing, either raw or cooked.
DotMom always made oyster stew for Daddon either on Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve. Nobody else in the house would touch the stuff.
On one memorable holiday, DotMom was sick — really sick, so sick in fact that she couldn’t muster up the energy to make the oyster stew. Not wanting the spendy oysters to go to waste, she directed then teen-age me to get out the Betty Crocker cookbook and do it in her stead. I’m sure I protested loudly, and probably grumbled throughout the process, but somehow I managed to concoct a palatable stew. I wouldn’t know; I wouldn’t eat it. And since Daddon was renowned for eating just about anything placed in front of him, I’m not so sure how good it was.
Anyway, here’s the Food Quote of the Week, with which I fully concur.
“I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead – not sick, not wounded – dead.” —Woody Allen