Shucking Boards

My regular shucking set up- knife, glove (no, I don't bare hand. I'm no hero), shucking block, rag, and oysters. Pretty standard, but nothing fancy.

I am not really a purist when it comes to shucking oysters. As many of you who have seen my how-to shucking video (which if you haven't seen it, is here) know already, I can pretty much take my "essentials" anywhere- a knife, a glove, a board, a rag and some oysters. The only thing I've ever really been picky about is the knife- which I prefer to be a hinge knife.

However, thanks to a local company, Wye River Provisioners, that might change. They sent me a little package over the holidays, and inside was a glove, a knife, and a pretty little shucking board- the perfect oyster shucking kit.

Wye River Provisioners' shucking kit

Once I had unpacked everything from its tidy little bag, it gathered a little dust over the holidays while I ate oysters pretty much everywhere but home. However, around the time I got back from France I found I had a real hankering for local oysters- plus I had my fancy new oyster knives from Paris to test. So, while I was at it, I tried out my new shucking kit.

Friends, my normal shucking block is a piece of driftwood I picked up at Eastern Neck Island. It is not fancy. This shucking board was on a whole new level. It is canted to raise the oyster up for a better shucking angle, the wood is beautifully grained and dove-tail joined, and there's even an oyster-shaped divot in the middle. Compared to my driftwood board, it is seriously cadillac.

The result? A prettily-shucked oyster, and a nice presentation- especially since the board wasn't dripping oyster liquor all over the place.

All in all, I have to give Wye River Provisioners props for seriously elevating a normally-overlooked oyster essential. Plus, the business was started by two St. Mary's College of Maryland grads, from a shop in Queenstown on Maryland's Eastern Shore, so it means you can shop local (or at least, know what you're getting is the real Chesapeake deal).

Want to get your own board? Check out the Wye River Provisioners website or their Etsy shop here

Thanks, Wye River Provisioners! I love my sexy new shucking board!

Oyster middens- the ghost of oysters past

Oyster midden overlooking the Chester River.Image by author.

Throughout the Chesapeake, where the mixture of salt and fresh water is just right, thin wafers are tumbled by the tide. Faded remnants of once robust oyster beds, these are middens- oyster shell beaches testament to the Chesapeake's past oyster populations. Made up of discarded oyster shells, middens still exist where often no oysters thrive today. Beach glass and pebbles are mixed into the softly crumbling oyster shells, and often beachcombers will find arrowheads or pottery and other detritus from the people that came down to the shore, ate oysters here, and left. Middens can be hundreds or even thousands of years old. Some are colonial, many are pre-colonization remnants of Indian winter camps. All are ghosts of a sort, haunting our contemporary landscape with reminders of the winter feasts savored, centuries ago.

A midden on Eastern Neck Island. Image by author.

A Virginia midden- mussels, oyster shells, and reeds. Image by author.

I love middens, but then again, I love to feel like I am cheek-to-jowl with the past. The experience of almost-tangible time travel is addictive. Middens powerfully convey that feeling, existing along Chesapeake tributaries too fresh, too sedimented, or too degraded to support the delicate balance of an oyster colony. HERE, they say, is what this Bay used to be like. You could fill your belly on an oyster bar where today there's a marina, a road, an empty stretch of cornfield, the terminus to an overgrown trail. Oyster middens convey a subsistence past where today only a convenience culture persists. Like old paint peeling off a wall, middens reveal history hidden just below the surface- faded, but persistent, and beautiful.

Weird oyster stuff- oyster trade cards

Louis Grebb trading card, 1888.

Oysters- wet, maybe a little mucosal- don't seem like exactly the most appetizing food to promote, right?  Au contraire! Oyster packers and the lithographers working for them during Baltimore's golden era of oystering came up with endlessly creative solutions to solve the oyster's little 'image problem.' From humorous cartoons like the snooty oyster bar patron on Grebb's trade card above, to beautiful ladies, babies and puppies, pretty much any strategy was used to move Baltimore oysters.

Hitchcock oysters trading card, late 19th century.

These trade cards were used like a combination of a modern business card and a flyer. Used by tradesmen, they were handed out widely to restaurants, grocers, and oyster bars as a way to promote their brands. Usually, the reverse side would have particulars about the cost of oysters in bulk or the name and contact information of the brand representative.

Grebb Oyster trade card, 1888.

Oyster packers had more than one kind of oysters to sell- steamed (bulk), canned, or oysters in the shell. Often, processors switched to packing fruits or vegetables in the summer when oysters were out of season, so Louis Grebb is offering both.

Baltimore Cove Oysters, late 19th century

These oyster trade cards utilized the new printing technique of lithography, and evolved at the same time as their far more famous relative, baseball trade cards. Several lithography firms were working in Baltimore by this era, the most famous of which was A. Hoen and Company- a lithographer that printed maps, tobacco labels, sheet music, posters, and oyster trade cards during the end of the the 19th century. A. Hoen's lithographic style, and that of many of their competitors, was greatly influenced by the style of political or satirical cartoons popular in magazines during the late 19th century. However, that meant that often oyster trade cards included imagery considered humorous by the Victorians that today reads as inappropriate or just racist.

J. Ludington and Co Oyster trade card, late 19th century.

Like oyster cans, brightly printed, lively trade cards are highly collectible today. Fans value their whimsical graphics but also their glimpse into a part of the Chesapeake's bygone Oyster Boom, when a bushel of oysters cost $3,  the Bay's seemingly endless oyster bounty supportedalmost 20% of the city's population, and the wonders of marketing were transforming oysters from quotidian part of the diet to Chesapeake brain food.

J.T. Stone and Company trade card, late 19th century