At the risk of dipping into the recipe boxes (electronic or printed) of chefs whose culinary talents exceed mine, which is pretty much everybody who walked through a kitchen, this column is about cooking. Well, cooking with a touch of sports, from the archives that make this column worth reading.
It’s about oysters.
A colleague of mine, Hall of Fame golf writer named Arv Olson, spent the final years of his life in Fanny Bay, B.C. Aficionados of oysters around the world know, apparently, that Fanny Bay produces some of the best oysters ever to slither past your larynx. On a social visit, after we had both retired, the Olsons brought a container of frozen Fanny Bay oysters as a thank-you gift. They went promptly into our freezer for another day, or another decade.
At that point, the closest that oysters had ever come to these lips was silently voicing “the world’s your oyster” cliché while trying to connect it to some sports story or celebrity I was profiling. And my appetite was fine with keeping that distance between me and oysters… until the ones from Fanny Bay showed up. This created a dilemma: What is the least offensive way to avoid eating such a thoughtful gift, even though it would be in poor taste… or worse taste?
I had an idea. In the kitchen, which is a rare event. I remembered reading a book written by another former colleague, Denny Boyd. While he was one of the country’s best football writers at the Vancouver Sun, Boyd authored a hardcover called “Man On The Range.” He was a gifted and thoughtful cook who may have bordered on gourmet status, if judged by somebody — like moi — who guessed that the word must have come from a French dictionary. In the book, Boyd connected recipes with his life events, some of them sports events that he’d covered.
For example, he brought black bean soup home (in recipe form) from reporting on the World Series for the first time, and he created “pot roast cooked in coffee” to make life less miserable for Grey Cup revellers, of which he was one… many times.
Oh yes, the oysters.
Boyd’s recipe wasn’t linked to sports beyond the connection to its author. It did, however, come in handy when the talented boss in my kitchen listened to my suggestion for our freshly-thawed oysters, which didn’t have to be slithered because they would be pan-fried. Then she announced: “Have at it.”
So I did…
Melt 8 tablespoons butter in small saucepan over low heat.
Stir frequently until butter is lightly browned, but do not let it burn.
Remove from heat; cover and reserve.
Pat oysters dry with paper towels.
Season with salt and pepper and roll very lightly in flour.
Heat oil and 2 tablespoons butter in skillet over medium heat.
Fry oysters 1 or 2 minutes on each side, until they plump up and edges curl.
Toast bread and, while still hot, cover with oysters.
Pour on the brown butter and sprinkle with parsley and lemon juice to taste. Makes two servings.
We loved them. The recipe immediately joined our menu rotation.
Who says sports jocks can’t learn to cook?
