So the ancient adage says we should only eat oysters in the months spelt with an ‘R’; I guess Orgust counts... Crawling out of bed at 4pm with a dinner booked for 7:30 doesn’t leave me much choice for breakfast. It was either cured ham at Opera Tavern or Oysters at the Wright Brothers. I decided it was a raw seafood day.
We had the whole split-level restaurant to ourselves as it was empty at 5 except for a couple of tables in the outside patio. I was asked to choose my table, but the staff stopped me as I sat and said she wanted to check if it was reserved. Err… okay. It wasn’t. The restaurant must have gotten so used to emptiness that the staff forgot we were there; we were ignored/blanked until I rudely interrupted their joyous conversations behind the bar.
These Irish oysters from County Lough were heavenly. The crunchy skin released the silkiest, creamiest sac of minerals, so intense and powerful the flavours gushed all over my taste buds.
The Maldons from Essex were more delicate in flavour and its crispiness contrasted the velvety texture of the Irish ones. These rocky gems were sweeter with a milder mineral trail; if the Carlingfords were tsunamis, these were high waves with long overhanging crests. Less vigorous, but more refined.
Speciale de Claire
The French Speciales from Olèron were not so special. Very brisk, clean and subtle in taste, I couldn’t quite find the nuttiness I was expecting. Perhaps not as flat as a harbour, but definitely gentle waves on a sandy beach.
Just as I was about to ask for a second round and maybe some razor clams and whelks, Mister gently whispered, ‘Our dinner reservation is in 20mins…’ I heard nice things about the kitchen at WB, but on this occasion I only had time for one section of its menu, and couldn’t quite stomach the service.
That aside, the oysters were blissful and these were pleasant mid-afternoon snacks.
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