Today is my wife's birthday. She is 47 and in all ways, manner and means, my superior. She is smarter, funnier, sexier (shocking, I know), more grounded, and just... awesome.
However, I will take credit in this: I taught her to love:
Oyster(s) -- a number of different families of salt-water bivalve molluscs that live in marine or brackish habitats.
I love oysters. I really love all seafood. Living in Maine I was able to get my hands on almost everything sea related. And I especially grew fond of oysters. My buddy Mike and I would go to anywhere that had $1 oysters and eat a ton of them and get pitchers of beer. Some of the best times I've ever had (here's looking at you Alisson's in Kennebunkport) is on a barstool with 2 dozen oysters and a pitcher of Shipyard.
Anyway, all this to say I introduced Mary to oysters. Specifically eating them raw. We would scour Portland for oysters and seek them out and eat until we were drunk on brine and beer.
For her birthday and while we are in exile here in Arkansas (no offense, but your seafood sucks) we ordered in seafood (including oysters) for us. It will bring us a little closer to home hopefully.
Happy Birthday, Mary. Now let's eat some f***ing oysters!
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