Shuckin' & Cluckin' - Oysters & Eggs

With my first year officially in the suburbs complete, I can comfortably admit I've gone full-on domesticated dad.  Weekly trips to Ace Hardware, YouTube videos on light fixture installation, and hours scouring the internets for the best soil and mulch mixtures.  Tom and Patti at our local garden center even feel like my new best friends.  The creepy algorithmic content trackers have definitely noticed, too.  Every third Instagram post I see is "you may qualify for free solar panels" or "check out this new BBQ kit, only $49.99."  It really hit me the other day when I audibly slammed the door my fiancé had left open.  "Are we trying to heat the whole neighborhood!?"  But honestly, I couldn't be happier.  I'm embracing it head on - Costco membership, John Deere mower, t-shirt tucked into my cargo shorts - everything.   

Oyster shell paved garden path
#oystershellrecycling

The first major dad venture was building a raised bed vegetable garden.  At the end of the first growing season, I think I can say it went pretty well.  A few successes, a few failures, and plenty of fresh, "free produce" at the modest cost of scores of labor hours and hundreds of dollars in equipment.  It is a tasty, rewarding, and therapeutic endeavor, though.  I kept wanting to incorporate oysters into our gardening somehow, and work it into a blog post.  Unfortunately, beyond paving the garden path with oyster shells, nothing really came to mind.  If you've got any ideas, please do share.  

In tandem with our homegrown vegetables, we frequently discussed getting our own chickens.  Few things can beat fresh eggs straight from your backyard, I imagine.  Admittedly, I nixed the idea as I know what nasty little beasts they can be from past experience.  That, and I can already see my 2 year old harassing them non-stop.  The family of foxes in the woods behind our house would be pretty happy if we had them, too.  However, our neighbors have a whole flock of chickens and kindly share some eggs from time to time. They are quite delicious, and we've made plenty of breakfasts and baked goods with them. 

This got me thinking of the hangtown fry (an omelette with oysters, spinach, and bacon, originally from the SF Bay Area) that I'd explored over a decade ago.  What other ways could oysters and eggs come together?  As my desire to connect oysters and gardening had yet to materialize, why not use the next closest thing: homegrown eggs?  Lady Oyster shared a fascinating post on how she strengthens her chickens' eggs by putting crushed up oyster shell in their feed.  Also, as this is an "oyster blog" and my previous five posts had been mostly oyster-less, I needed to get back to my roots.  Nothing but oysters on this round.  And while definitely not a common pairing (at least in Western cooking), oysters and eggs just might work if exeggcuted correctly.  Don't worry, plenty more egg puns to come.  I did some research, came up with a few ideas, and delved into crackin' and shuckin'.  Who's eggcited!?!  

Buffalo Oyster Deviled Eggs

Wingswept Acres Eggs

The adjective "deviled" before any food item has always intrigued me.  The first instance of deviled in reference to food appeared in British print in 1786, and the term was quickly adopted in American vernacular by the early 19th century.  Deviled clams, deviled ham, deviled crabs, even deviled oysters are a thing.  Then there's Mexican camarones a la diabla and Italian fra diavolo sauce.  And, of course, most prominently, we have deviled eggs.  While there are various methods of stuffing, breading, saucing, etc. to be found in deviled recipes, they all have that common, obvious element: well-seasoned and spicy.  Appropriate nomenclature, right?  For my first oyster and egg mashup, I couldn't think of a better starting point than my own favorite well-seasoned and spicy style: buffalo.  Additional disclosure: I worked at a San Francisco oyster bar, Leo's, for a while, and they served a deviled egg topped with a wing-fried oyster.  It was the most popular item on the menu.  Best to start with a surefire hit.  My wacky oyster-eggscapade needed some confirmation bias and confidence building.  

 

I hard boiled five extra large eggs from Wingswept Acres, a Berks County farm that's a weekly staple at our local farmers market.  They're pricey, but worth it.  Eggs are a "get what you pay for" food item, and I've always found the dollar or two more you spend per dozen is completely justified in terms of quality.  All that non-GMO, organic fed, pasture raised, did-the-chicken-have-friends stuff aside, they're just better tasting eggs.  I also do have a heart and believe all our livestock should be treated ethically and respectfully.  You can literally taste the sadness in those bootleg sweatshop eggs.

Top left clockwise: egg prep, deviled eggs pre-oyster,
cornmeal fried oysters, buffalo dressing oysters

Anyway, with the eggs cooked and peeled, I sliced them, removed the yolks, and moved on to the deviled filling.  I made some mayo with another egg, lemon juice, and canola oil; then mixed in the yolks, hot sauce, ranch, Worcestershire sauce, and some diced celery.  The result was a tasty, but standard, buffalo deviled egg mixture.  I wanted a more dynamic oyster-egg marriage.  So, I shucked the dozen Sweet Amalia Oysters I'd received from Fishadelphia and added some of the oyster liquor to the filling.  The addition loosened the mixture a bit, but brought a slight oceanic salinity that would tie in the fried oyster nicely.  I stuffed the eggs and into the fridge they went to chill.   

As for the fried oysters, I wanted to stay classic.  I've done some crazy versions of buffalo oysters in the past, but this one had to be textbook.  I gave the oysters a quick dredge in some rather culturally insensitive Indian Head Yellow Corn Meal  (perhaps they'll re-brand as Guardians' or Commanders' Corn Meal).  The oysters went into 350°F canola oil for 2-3 minutes until golden brown and out they came.  I melted some butter, mixed in ample amounts of Frank's Red Hot, and gave the oysters a toss.  Final step, compilation. 

Buffalo Oyster Deviled Eggs

I grabbed the chilled deviled eggs, which had set and firmed up nicely, and topped each with its own buffalo fried oyster.  I added some chives and thinly sliced celery, garnished with lemon and celery leaves to make it all pretty, and dove right in.  I don't mind saying they tasted speggtacular.  I expected as much since two of my favorite flavors are buffalo and brine.  The rich, buttery egg had a great tang from the ranch and hot sauce, and contrasted well with the crunch from the fried oyster and diced celery.  A great dish for your next Super Bowl party with some culinarily adventurous guests, and a great start to my own oyster and egg adventure.

"Scotch Egg" Oysters

Classic Scotch Egg from ScotchTails,
formerly in London's Borough Market 

Scotch eggs have made a real resurgence on the American culinary scene the last few years.  British cuisine has in general.  I'm not quite sure why.  Maybe because it's delicious, despite the frequent disparaging stereotypes you hear.  It could be the meteoric rise of British chefs like April Bloomfield, Gordon Ramsey, and Jamie Oliver.  Or it could be a organic extension of the gastropub and micro-brew renaissance we've seen the last decade.  Beer and British food, after all, are a natural pairing.  Either way, being an unapologetic Anglophile, I'm pretty happy about it.  When it comes to scotch eggs, doubly so.  

As for the scotch egg's history, it's a contentious one, to say the least.  Some believe it was created in a London department store, others say its from Whitby in Northeast England.  Then there are claims it originates from an Indian dish, while others argue various North African dishes.  The only things that seem to be agreed upon are 1) it's definitely not from Scotland, and 2) it's a damn tasty dish.  So when thinking of oyster and egg dishes, a scotch egg oyster immediately came to mind.  The texture of a soft to medium boiled egg, as desired for a scotch egg, is pretty similar to that of a larger, poached or steamed oyster.  And as shellfish and salty pig parts are always a brilliant match, an oyster wrapped in pork sausage and deep fried sounded deleggtable.

Top left clockwise: ingredient prep, forming
the scotch egg oysters, breading, deep frying

I picked up some pre-shucked, extra large MeTompkin Chesapeake oysters from Hill's Seafood, my local fish market.  I'm usually a proponent of shell to table, as in shucking your own.  However, the scotch egg undertaking required uniform, extra large oyster meats - so large they'd be difficult to find retailed in the shell.  Also, even though this may seem sacrilegious, I've often found freshly jarred oysters from reputable establishments to be fine, if not better, for some cooked oyster preparations.  Give them a try.  Or egg-off with your sanctimony if you feel otherwise ;)   

I lightly poached the oysters, thirty seconds or so, just to firm them up for handling.  I'd also bought some English style bangers from Dundore and Heister, a sausage maker in Wyomissing, Pennsylvania that wholesales to local markets around Philadelphia.  I removed the sausage from the casings and mixed it up with some chopped thyme, just to add some fresh aromatics and color.  Well, honestly, thyme was pretty much all that remained of my garden come mid-November, and I had to use some homegrown ingredients, right?  The sausage was then rolled into balls, flattened into patties, and the oysters neatly tucked in to form the scotch egg oysters. Next step was your standard breading procedure: flour dredge, egg wash, then breadcrumb coating, Panko in this instance.  With some vegetable oil at 375°F, it was finally time to fry.   

"Scotch Egg" Oysters

The end result was identical to a scotch egg in its crispy, golden-brown ovular sphere.  You'll notice what was once five scotch egg oysters became four when finished.  I lost one to the oil overheating and browning the outside before the sausage had fully cooked through.  It was disappointing to slice open and see a pink center.  Nobody likes medium rare sausage.  Lesson learned and the other four came out spot on.  I sliced one for presentation, then plated them up with some lemon, thyme, and parsley for garnish.  As for a condiment, you typically see creamy or spicy mustard sauces with scotch eggs.  However, I've got a soft spot for the classic British HP Brown Sauce.  It's like a tangier, Worcestershire flavored ketchup, and they put it on practically everything in the UK.  As for the scotch egg oysters themselves, they weren't eggsactly what I'd hoped for.  Unquestionably good, as most deep fried things are, but the sausage completely overwhelmed the oyster.  It was more like eating sausage nuggets with a muted, low-tide surprise in the middle.  You got the texture of the oyster a little, but that was about it.  Perhaps I'll try again using more mildly flavored sausage and less of it.  But hey, it was a pretty fun and tasty experiment, nonetheless.       

Oyster Chawanmushi (牡蠣茶碗蒸し)

Oyster Omelette (Orh Luak) in 
Singapore - courtesy of @jamietan04 

Pairing oysters and eggs is pretty common in Asian cooking.  Every country or region seems to have its own version of egg and batter fried oysters or an oyster omelette.  There's Gul Jeon (굴전) in Korea and Hoi Thod (หอยทอด) in Thailand, both crispy fried oyster pancakes.  Then, there are countless oyster omelettes throughout Malaysia, Hong Kong, the Philippines, and Singapore, many believed to have originated from the Fujian province in China with the Hokkien diaspora.  In Taiwan, it's even considered an unofficial national dish.  All are highly celebrated staples of hawkers and night markets.  Grossly overgeneralizing, they're basically oysters and eggs pan fried with a starchy batter and served with rich or spicy sauces and toppings.  Between the intimidating array of varieties and my overall ignorance to them, I knew I couldn't do the world of Asian street-style oyster omelettes any justice in a single dish.  They're deserving of their own blog post, or posts even.   

However, this brought my absolute favorite Asian fare egg preparation to mind: chawanmushi.  Chawanmushi is a Japanese egg custard flavored with dashi, soy sauce, and mirin, and often served with shrimp, mushrooms, fish cake and other savory ingredients.  The first time I ever tried it left a serious impression.  Silky-smooth, umami-laden egg topped with uni, sea beans, and scallions; it was like nothing I'd ever had before.  Mind-blowing, in fact, as every egg custard I'd had until that point was sweet.  Who knew they could even be savory, and wouldn't a briny ocean pop from an oyster be a great addition?  I'm also a bit of an armchair Nipponophile, so when it came to eggs and oysters, I knew I was going to look to Japanese cuisine for some inspiration. 

Top left clockwise: ingredient prep, Graveling Points,
pouring the mixture, adding oysters mid-steam

It just so happened the next catch of the day from Fishadelphia was Graveling Point Oysters from Maxwell Shellfish off the Mullica River in New Jersey.  Perfect timing for my oyster and egg custard.  I grabbed a few ingredients from my local Asian grocer, Ebo's, and hit the web and some cookbooks for recipes and techniques.  I started with two eggs, whisked, and added in some dashi.  Instant Hondashi, to be exact.  Free time is rare as a parent, and my kids' one hour naps didn't provide enough for me to make a proper dashi from seaweed and bonito flakes.  Plus, I was skipping my own nap and was tired.  

Parenting is eggshausting.  

All the recipes I read varied slightly in their egg to liquid ratio.  Some said 3 to 1, others 2 to 1, and several said somewhere in between.  Then some went by weight, while others went by volume.  My whisked eggs equaled half a cup by volume, so I went with a cup and a third of dashi with a little rice vinegar, soy sauce, and oyster liquor.  Chawanmushi also requires straining to remove any particulate, ensuring a smooth, consistent custard.  I sieved the eggs and poured it into some Japanese tea cups over a few oysters, so they'd all steam and meld in flavor together.  I added some baby shiitake mushrooms on top, and the lidded tea cups went directly into a few inches of lightly steaming water for thirty minutes or so.  At the twenty-five minute mark, I added another oyster, just so it would barely cook and set on the top of the custard.  A fresher oyster to contrast the fully cooked ones on the bottom would be nice, but I didn't want the temperature clash of a raw oyster and its ice-cold liquor mixed into the warm, cozy custard. 

  

Oyster Chawanmushi

 I steamed the tea cups for another five minutes, but the custard hadn't fully set.  I gave them another five minutes, checked again, but still not set.  Had my egg to dashi ratio been wrong?  Was my water temperature too low?  Would the custard ever firm up?  Finally, after another ten minutes, they had that classic custard quiver and were finished.  David Chang did say "making chawanmushi is easy, but cooking it is difficult."  I definitely found that to be true as the prep was a breezy five minutes, but the cooking was forty-five minutes full of anxiety and impatience.  That being said, there are more approachable and less fussy ways to make chawanmushi.  I removed the lids and added sesame seeds, fresno chilies, chives, and some caviar.  You know I had to work fish eggs somewhere into a post on oysters and eggs.  Don't worry, it was just $10 Coho salmon "caviar" from Whole Foods.  I'm a baller on a budget.  Thankfully, all the anxious cooking paid off as it tasted incredible.  It was silky, smooth, and savory.  The smokiness from the dashi was most prominent, but the oyster brine and flavor was notably there.  The salmon roe brought a sharp brightness, and the mushrooms a slight earthiness.  And the fully cooked oysters at the bottom were texturally perfect, a most surprising delight.  This chawanmushi was, in one word, eggsquisite.

Spoonful of the Chawanmushi

My oyster and egg mashups were a lot of fun, from the initial research and conception to seeing each dish to fruition.  Some were great overall, others were great learning eggsperiences.  And this was just a start to a most eggcellent adventure.  There are plenty more combinations that I certainly missed and am keen on eggsploring.  I fondly look forward to further eggsperiments, and hope you try your hand at some as well.  Perhaps, if you're bold enough, take a crack at a prairie oyster.  Either way, go eat some oysters and eggs!  

Cheers,

The SF Oyster Nerd