Full transparency, my annual oyster & gardening post didn't quite go as planned this year. I've had a lot of fun with some previous projects: "shucked" ceviche with garden fresh peas and corn, homegrown chile peppers for oyster hot sauce, even pairing eggs from our neighbors' chicken coop with oysters. For this year's, I started in late 2025 by attempting to grow a perennial known as oyster leaf. Also known as oyster plant, oyster leaf is in the borage family and closely related to Virginia blue bells. Relatively rare and prized by chefs, it's got a succulent, snappy texture like a nopales, and a clean saline, oceanic taste like, well, an oyster. I've only had it once, over a decade ago, while living in San Francisco. In the States, it's difficult to find outside of the areas it grows wild or is now cultivated, like the North Atlantic or Pacific Northwest. So naturally, I tried growing it. And unfortunately, I continue to try growing it. Direct sow, paper towel sprouting, cell trays with starter mixes, Aerogarden, cold stratification. Plugs or starts are practically impossible to source, and Mertensia are notoriously difficult to germinate, so I've learned. I haven't reached the point of defeat just yet, but my oyster leaf escapades are tracking for summer 2027 at the earliest.
But for 2026, things looked dire, as if my annual oyster & gardening post was not going to happen. Then, as a saving grace, the Tuscan cantaloupe I'd planted back in April went gangbusters, providing some inspiration in oyster & melon pairings. Oysters, with their natural brininess and minerality, are complemented well by sweet and tart. Lemon, lime, grapefruit, blood orange, even pomegranate, apple, and stone fruit are commonly served or paired with oysters in some way. Melons most certainly check that box. Some Pacific oysters (Magallana gigas) also have slight cucumber or melon flavor profiles. I've had Kusshis that tasted like straight Watermelon Jolly Ranchers. So, as my kids and I eagerly awaited over half a dozen melons to ripen on the vine, I started thinking of oyster & melon combinations.
Usually I do some sort of deep subject matter dive in my posts, or at least try to. The history of Atlantic City, the global dissemination of capsicums, debates around combining cheese and seafood. But, here we are with my 11th hour, slapdick plan B: oysters & melons. I'm not saying oysters & melons is a bad idea. Far from it. I just want to acknowledge that I'm leaving a lot of fun history, botany, and culture around melons on the table here. That said, I had to at least provide a bit of detail on what I find interesting about melons, so here we go.
Usually I do some sort of deep subject matter dive in my posts, or at least try to. The history of Atlantic City, the global dissemination of capsicums, debates around combining cheese and seafood. But, here we are with my 11th hour, slapdick plan B: oysters & melons. I'm not saying oysters & melons is a bad idea. Far from it. I just want to acknowledge that I'm leaving a lot of fun history, botany, and culture around melons on the table here. That said, I had to at least provide a bit of detail on what I find interesting about melons, so here we go.
I like melons. Melons taste great. People have been eating melons for millennia. Nobody seems to agree on whether melon cultivation originated in Sub-Saharan Africa or the Middle East, but thank you to whoever figured it out. Some foods that we call melons aren't actually melons, like pepino melons or bitter melons. Other foods, like Armenian cucumbers, are actually melons, scientifically speaking. Taxonomic vs. culinary classifications are often weird. Some growers have been hybridizing and creating cool, new melon varieties, like the Sugar Kiss or Lemon Drop. Personally, I prefer the big ol' natural melons, though I like augmented melons and little melons too. Today, melons are available year round thanks to global supply chains. But, in the Mid-Atlantic, melons are best local and in the late summer months. When in season, few things can beat a cool, sweet slice of melon on a warm, balmy day. So, with a few dozen oysters and a mélange of melons, let's get our mel-on!
Oysters & Melon Caviar
Oysters topped with caviar is a classic pairing, and oysters and caviar actually share a similar history. In the 19th century, oysters were abundant and cheap in Europe and North America. While consumed by all classes, they often had a distinction as a poor man's food. Charles Dickens famously wrote "poverty and oysters always seem to go together." At the same time, caviar-producing sturgeon were incredibly abundant across the East Coast. Exhausted sturgeon populations had already made caviar a prized luxury in Europe, but it was readily available and cheap in the States. The US was even the world's leading caviar exporter in the mid-1800s. However, due to its perishability, the US had more caviar than it could either consume or ship across the Atlantic — so much that it was literally handed out as a free bar snack, just like peanuts or popcorn. Over-fishing and clever marketing of the early 20th century made oysters and caviar the culinary status symbols they are today. However, for a few decades in America, oysters and caviar were foods for the masses, enjoyed by all.
In hindsight, I should have tried each oyster with a single melon variety to get a solid sense of which worked best. Look at all those pretty colors, though. We're all victims of the Instagramification of our cuisine, I suppose. I also think this oyster & melon caviar preparation would be much better with Pacific oysters and their fruity, vegetal notes. However, I can confidently say that the Korean melon was far and away the best pairing. Its crisp texture and more-tart-than-sweet flavor, almost like a cucumber and Asian pear hybrid, contrasted perfectly with the supple and briny oysters. I'd love to try it at as a mignonette, maybe with some shallots and champagne vinegar, or bird's eye chiles and yuzu juice. Either way, this is certainly not the last time I'll be enjoying Korean melon and oysters together.
Oyster & Honeydew Aguachile
2026 has been a year of Mexican marisco dishes for me. Pescado a la Veracruzana, tostadas de atún, vuelve la vida, caldo de camarón. Plenty more on this to come in my next blog post, but they've been a recurring theme this year. It could be from seeing several viral videos like these, or maybe my missing the Bay Area. Occam's razor would suggest I’m obsessed simply because Mexican seafood preparations are delicious, and therefore deserving of obsession. Whatever the case may be, they are indeed delightful.
Being top of mind all year, the very first dish I thought of for this project was an oyster & honeydew aguachile. Again, much more to come on aguachile in that upcoming post, but it's essentially the Sinaloan cousin of ceviche. Hot peppers like serrano and chiltepín are mixed with cucumber, cilantro, garlic, lime juice and water into a thin, verdant sauce, then poured over raw shrimp or fish and served with crispy tortillas or saltines. Adding in some honeydew sweetness while maintaining the sauce's green vibrancy, and bringing in a few oysters, seemed like an obvious oysters & melons dish. I started by curing some Goose Point oysters and Mexican brown shrimp in lime juice to firm up their texture a bit. I then blended garlic, cucumber, cilantro, honeydew melon, and homegrown jalapeños in lime juice with a little water and passed it through a sieve.
After about 15 minutes of the lime juice cure, it was time to plate. I laid out the shrimp and oysters, added some cubed honeydew, poured over the aguachile sauce, and garnished with sliced red onion, cilantro, and cucumber. My favorite Mexican ceviche, aguachile, or coctel accompaniment is saltines, so I had to throw a few on the side. Overall, it tasted great. A bright, herbaceous, spicy sauce with toothsome bites of shrimp and oyster and a cooling crunch from the cucumber and red onion. In terms of a classic aguachile, spot on. Unfortunately, the honeydew was overpowered by the citrus and spice. I had put A LOT of honeydew in there, too, but it was still barely noticeable. I wouldn't have even known it was in there if it weren't for the cubed melon. Solid 8 out of 10 for a standard aguachile, but I need to go back to the drawing board on the melon pairing. Perhaps for next year's oyster & gardening post.
Gul Subak Naengmyeon (굴수박냉면)
Few cultures around the world take their melons as seriously as the Japanese. They grow luxury, high-end melons that often go for $100 to $200 for a single fruit. Just this year, a pair of Yubari melons from Hokkaido sold for nearly $40,000 at auction. As soon as I started this project, I knew I'd be looking to the East for inspiration. I ended up in South Korea where they make a summer dish called subak naengmyeon. Buckwheat noodles are cooked, chilled, and tossed in a sweet & spicy watermelon-gochuchang broth. They're then served cold in a hollowed-out watermelon and topped with sliced cucumber and a jammy, soft-boiled egg. Perfect for my oysters & melons coup de grâce dish.
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| Yes, that's an Aerogarden in the background, still trying to sprout some oyster leaf seeds. |
A large oyster, when lightly poached or steamed, can be a great substitute for a boiled egg in many dishes, whether for dietary adjustments or just a fun riff. I've had some success with it in the past, most notably as a Scotch egg oyster. I started my Gul Subak Naengmyeon (Oyster & Watermelon Cold Noodles) by boiling Kikkokin buckweat noodles and chilling them in an ice bath, and poaching an XL Goose Point oyster. At the same time, I hollowed out a baby watermelon half and set it to the side. I blended the removed melon with rice vinegar, gochujang, and Korean oyster sauce for the noodle dressing. I also sliced up, purged, and pan-fried some bitter melon to add to the noodles. I only used a little, so the rest was set aside for a school night stir-fry. The slightly astringent melon would contrast well with the sweet and spicy noodles. But really, I just wanted to add more melon, so I could say melon more, even though bitter melon isn't a true melon.
Once all the components were ready, I dressed the noodles and bitter melon and plated them in the baby watermelon half. I then added the oyster on top and garnished with scallion, sesame seeds, and a few heavy shakes of gochugaru. The result — quite the showstopper, I don't mind saying. And the flavor — 🤯. Slightly chewy, al dente noodles swimming in an all-things-flavor broth. It was sweet, spicy, savory, refreshing, and tangy in every bite. The bitter melon brought a great, contrasting crunch, and the oyster on top provided an umami-rich pop. I'm genuinely surprised we don't see subak naengmyeon on menus in the States more. It's delicious. I also have to apologize to my mom. Growing up, I always watched her salt her watermelon before eating it. We all looked at her like she was batshit crazy. But after this dish, I get it. Watermelon pairs wonderfully with salty and savory, especially in the form of cold noodles with some oysters. Sorry, mom, you were right all along.
For a last minute pivot, I was pretty happy with my dishes pairing oysters & melons. A few tasty bites, some fun learnings, and plenty of leftover melons to enjoy after the project. No joke, we've been eating melon for breakfast, lunch, snack, and dinner the last week or so. The boy and I went fishing at the Jersey shore recently, and sure enough, he landed a 20 inch keeper. Summer flounder is delicious, and particularly delicious when served crudo with cantaloupe, watermelon and a spicy gochujang & lime sauce. I hope you get the chance to eat some peak-season melons and seafood in the last few days of summer, too.
Cheers,
The SF Oyster Nerd
The SF Oyster Nerd
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