Consider the Oyster Pudding

Oysters are curious creatures, with a curious taste. More than any other seafood I’ve ever eaten, oysters taste truly of the sea — often a little bit sweet, but always briney. I want to like oysters, I do. And I do like them. I don’t know that I quite share the cultural fascination with them that seems to exist, though that’s also a remnant from the days when it was not so easy — nor so safe — to eat raw oysters, imbuing them with even more mystique than they have today. Plus, they produce pearls. And are supposedly an aphrodisiac. What more could you want from a single foodstuff?

Oysters Rockefeller (oysters topped with bread crumbs, butter, and cheese and then broiled) was my entry into the world of eating oysters. And how, with that preparation, could it not succeed? Not to mention the name, which is simply oozing with all kinds of luxurious connotations. I’m now at the point where I can genuinely enjoy raw oysters, slurped from the shell with a little bit of some kind of citrusy-shalloty sauce. Since both of these most famous oyster dishes involve oysters on the half shell, they are not the most doable at home, unless you have an iron will and no fear of maiming (shucking oysters is a notoriously bloody pursuit). So, if you want to bring oysters into your life in a non-digit-losing way, this oyster pudding, I think, is the way to go.

Far before David Foster Wallace’s Consider the Lobster, there was M.F.K. Fisher’s Consider the Oyster. Whether DFW or an editor at  Gourmet (where DFW’s title essay was first published) named his collection, I don’t know. But I was pleased to realize the other day (yes, I am a bit slow on this, I know) that someone such as DFW would pay homage to someone such as Mary Frances. Because MFK (since we’re going with acronyms here) was a tremendous writer, not a food writer only, but a writer writer, and one whose revealing, yet always perfectly poised work gave me great solace during the occasional lonely moment abroad this past summer.

So let’s hear MFK herself on the subject of oyster stuffing (the closest I could find to pudding):

“Oyster stuffing, for turkeys naturally, is as American as corn-on-the-cob or steamed coot, as far as Americans know or care. To most families it is a necessary part of Christmas dinner, so that its omission would at once connotate a sure sign of internal disintegration, as if Ma came to church in her corset-cover or Uncle Jim brought his light-o’-love to the children’s picnic.”

How can you not adore her?

This oyster pudding is from the Southern Thanksgiving menu from the last (tear) issue of Gourmet, publisher of both DFW and MFK (and countless others). I’m not sure who thought up the idea of oysters + turkey (or goose); seems like a bit of overkill to me. But what are the holidays for, if not overkill? I personally would prefer this bubbling casserole on its own, for a simple supper, with a crisp green salad and a glass of light white wine. But it will do well, and more traditionally, for Christmas, too. My father, never one to shy away from overkill, would have probably eaten this entire pan of oyster pudding himself, had it not luckily been placed on the opposite end of the dinner table.

Happy holidays!

(ps. If you’re thinking about an untraditional Christmas, as I am this year, may I suggest this ropa vieja? It was my standby for solo Christmases in New York.)

Oyster Pudding

Serves 8, as a side dish (or light supper)

Adapted from Gourmet

Ingredients

- 4 cups coarse fresh bread crumbs (from 8 slices firm white sandwich bread – you can just whiz them in the food processor for a couple seconds, and voila)
- 4 large eggs
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 1 cup whole milk
- 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
- 1/4 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
- 3 dozen shucked oysters (preferably medium; halved if large; about 1 cup), drained if necessary and gently patted dry. Note: You can buy very good, very plump, reasonably fresh shucked oysters in jars at the fish counter at good supermarkets. Do not get the canned ones! It won’t be the same. (I imagine this because I bought the canned ones, and my mother, horrified, braved the supermarket the day before Thanksgiving just to exchange them for the superior kind.) Also note: a couple jars of shucked, fresh oysters will run about $15.

1. Preheat oven to 375°F with rack in middle. Butter a 2-quart shallow baking dish.

2. Spread bread crumbs in a 4-sided sheet pan and bake, stirring occasionally, until golden-brown, about 15 minutes. Transfer to a plate to cool slightly.

3. Whisk together eggs, cream, milk, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, parsley, and 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper in a medium bowl. Gently stir in oysters and bread crumbs.

4. Pour into baking dish and bake until custard is set and top is golden, 25 to 30 minutes.