BBQ Oysters with 3 Scrumptious Sauces

When I was a small child and could barely yet chew, I craved fried oysters with lemon juice and tartar sauce. My dad beams as he recounts how one Saturday morning in the '70s, his pigtailed three-year-old packed away two large orders of them. Perched on a booster seat in Fred Meyer's in-house restaurant, Eve's Buffet, she impressed the waitress and neighboring customers alike.

(Now articulating this in an age of concern about childhood obesity and food safety, I realize the image of a toddler gorging on deep-fried seafood from a discount variety store's buffet may strike you not as cute, but as sketchy. Nevertheless, it's a fond memory and marks the beginning of a wonderful deep-fried-food relationship with my dad.)

It wasn't until primary school or so that I was privy to oysters on the half shell -- how they arrive at the table cushioned in shaved ice and shells like shiny gray jewels. How they look and taste different, depending on factors like origin, variety and age. How they're dressed up with droplets of lemon juice, vinegar and hot sauce. How they slide coldly down your throat...first their brine, and then their chewy edges and their plump, flavorful mid-section. And how they can be leveraged to gross out people who are not as tasteful and sophisticated as you. Ha!

My future brother-in-law, Dan, has a different tradition: Getting local oysters at the source and cooking them in their shells on the barbecue, so they transform from shiny and jiggly to opaque and stout, and the flavor of fire augments that of the sea. We learned about this firsthand a couple of weeks ago when he led my Lil' Sista, husband Dara and me out to his family's favorite source, the Blau Oyster Company near Bow, Washington. There we dipped our toes in the Samish Bay and procured a large bag of small Pacifics.

Pacific oysters in this area are harvested and eaten year round. According to the folks at Blau, the Pacific oyster was introduced to Washington from Japan in the early 1920s, and it's hardier and better adapted to aquaculture than the native Olympia oyster, which had been depleted by over-harvesting. Blau raises its oysters in a hatchery, and the Seattle Aquarium notes that farm-raised oysters such as this are a "Best Choice" in terms of sustainability. (To justify our gas out to Bow, we explored the area for awhile and enjoyed the sunny day, making our errand into a day trip. I learned later that for busier days, we can also get bags of local oysters at our neighborhood farmers market in Ballard.)

Back at home, Dan manned a medium-heat barbecue. He simply threw whole oysters on it and cooked them until their shells opened, and then a bit more to fully warm them. He also tried shucking some of them, putting the loose oysters back into their bottom shell, placing their top shell on top, and putting this little package onto the grill. The second way seemed to work a bit better -- they cooked faster and it was easier to see what was going on inside.

Meanwhile Dara did one of his favorite things, which is concocting little dipping sauces and putting them in little ramekins. He whisked together a simple cocktail sauce, an Asian-inspired cocktail sauce with lots of freshly grated ginger, and a basic mignonette with finely diced shallot.

Lil' Sista made a salad of arugula, black beans, red pepper, scallions and avocado with lime dressing. I baked some popovers. Downing our dinner on the patio with cold pilsner, we marveled about the oyster...this squishy little creature with the capacity to give great joy.

BBQ OYSTERS

Buy small oysters in the shell and allow at least 12 per person. Heat a medium grill. Shuck oysters and reserve the tops of their shells. Place oysters in their bottom shells on the preheated grill. Put back on their top shells, and close the grill. BBQ for 10 minutes or until they're warm, a bit less jiggly, and are losing their sheen. I think that how long to cook them is subjective, but at the very least they should be warm and retain their briny flavor.

CLASSIC COCKTAIL SAUCE

Makes about 1 1/4 cups

1/2 cup ketchup

3 tablespoons mayonnaise

3 tablespoons grated horseradish

2-3 dashes Worcestershire sauce

1-2 dashes Louisiana-style hot sauce

Pinch salt

Whisk together ingredients and adjust to your own taste.

GINGER COCKTAIL SAUCE

Makes about 3/4 cup

1/2 cup ketchup

1 tablespoon Asian chili-garlic paste

1 1-inch piece of ginger, peeled and grated

Zest of 1 lime

Juice from 1/4 lime

2-3 dashes soy sauce

Whisk together ingredients and adjust to your own taste.

MIGNONETTE

Makes about 1/2 cup

1/2 cup red wine vinegar

1/2 teaspoon sugar

1 large shallot, finely minced

Pinch salt

Coarsely ground black pepper

Whisk together ingredients and adjust to your own taste.

POPOVERS

Adapted from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything: Simple Recipes for Great Food (Wiley, 1998).

Makes 10-12.

1 tablespoon melted butter + more for greasing the tins

2 eggs

1 cup milk

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 425 F. Butter a muffin tin or a popover tin* and place it in the oven while you make the batter. Beat together eggs, milk, butter, sugar and salt. Beat in the flour a little bit at a time, making sure the mixture is smooth. Fill the tins halfway. Place in the oven and bake for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 F and continue baking 15 minutes more, or until the popovers are puffed and browned. (Do not check the popovers until they have baked for a total of 30 minutes.) Serve warm.

*Popover tins are available at Williams-Sonoma, Sur La Table and other speciality kitchen stores. I have one that I received as a gift, and the advantage is that it makes fewer yet taller and more dramatically puffy popovers. A muffin tin works great, though.