Island Creek Oysters           

                         A study in denim - some of the guys from Island Creek Oyster

I’m spoiled. The first time I ate an oyster was in Brittany, sitting on a sunny patio overlooking the Belon River.  I was intimidated, but intent to make the French proud.  Without hesitation, I slurped down a flat, briny, metallic Belon oyster, naked of a condiment, and followed it with some sanctioned brown bread and butter and a glass of crisp Muscadet. That became the paradigm, the archetype and epitome of oyster eating for me all in one slimy bite. It set the standards fairly high for any other poor oyster.

Recently, on a late summer day visiting Island Creek Oysters in Duxbury, MA, my paradigm began to shift. With about a dozen Rialto guerrilla grillers, I got an intensive crash course in Duxbury Island Creek Oysters…how to grow, harvest, taste and celebrate them.  Meatier, and with a different flavor profile,  these fresh from the bay oysters stood up to my memory of those first ones I tasted in Brittany and the guys growing them were far friendlier than their French counterparts. 

                                      Oysters fresh from the bay

Skip Bennett started Island Creek Oysters in 1992.  After trying to grow quahogs in Duxbury Bay, he decided to try oysters instead.  They had never been grown in this bay and it was a huge risk. Sixteen years and much trial and error later, he now heads up an oyster cooperative with twelve farmers and four employees in the wholesale business. Skip and his fellow farmers have learned to grow the perfectly round, three-inch, bivalve that tastes of the particular “maroir” of their bay. The temperature, salinity and tides all contribute to make an oyster that is rich and briny. 

With his waders and faded Red Sox hat, Skip may look like a classic New England fisherman, but he is really true innovator, introducing sustainable aquaculture to the area. We laughed at a t-shirt one farmer wore that read “Island Creek Oysters – Carbon Negative.” It turns out that oyster shells are about 95% calcium carbonate. By harvesting thousands of oysters per year, the Island Creek guys are actually removing carbon from the environment. Cool trick.

                             In addition to oysters we caught lobsters and steamers

Cool is actually exactly the word to describe the whole operation. The Island Creek guys spend their time out in the beautiful Duxbury bay, on the water, doing exactly what they want to be doing, with like-minded people who take their work seriously but know that having a good time is equally important.  They don’t take anything for granted, and strive to grow the best possible example of the Duxbury oyster.  In their case, innovation isn’t only about technology but rather paying attention and really getting to know the oysters and how they respond to natural changes.  We learned that oysters can be coaxed to grow deep with round shells to host rich oysters rather than long, flat and watery ones.  If their shells get damaged, given the right circumstances and care, they repair their shells in 24 hours. 

   
                               Skip caringly inspecting the oysters

We sat crouched on the side of a motorboat while Skip dragged his hand through the water, scooping up a handful of adolescent oysters. He carefully turned each shell over, inspecting the shape and color, searching for any nicks and scratches. The delicate, almost intimate, relationship between oyster and oysterman was juxtaposed against the large expanse of the water. It seemed amazing that one could care for these tiny mollusks in this large bay. Skip does it and does it well.

                                        Oyster Creek "oysterplex"

This year Skip built an “oysterplex,” a floating, covered dock where he processes the oysters. A long narrow table set with a checkered tablecloth transformed the plex into the perfect venue for our guerrilla feast. Bright orange fish crates served as chairs as well as the ideal color complement to the palate of blues from the sea and sky.  We joked that it was really an Island Creek club house.

                                Sous Chef Nuno breaking down a 20 lb bass

As we were licking our lips and getting ready to feast, Mike (another farmer), pulled up in his boat with a huge, flopping striped bass. It must have weighed 20 pounds if it weighed an ounce. We all whooped and then watched the adrenaline rush through our sous chef Nuno as he was pulled to the fish like a magnet. Man confronted fish against the backdrop of sea and sky. Hemingway would have been proud. Nuno wrestled, gutted, cleaned and filleted the bass with alacrity and grace. We stood around in amazement, jaws dropped and drooling.

                         Our feast in the Island Creek's floating "clubhouse"

Nuno had set up the guerrilla kitchen with sous chef Drew as well as Meggie from Island Creek.  They grilled bread and lemons, steamed clams and lobsters with seaweed, opened oysters, sliced radishes, chopped almonds, spooned out romesco, salsa verde, aiolo and chervil butter from our Guerrilla Grilling go-to pantry. We had heaps of farm greens with perfect end-of-the-summer tomatoes, an antipasti platter with sausages and cheeses, three wines to pair with the oysters and on and on. Most of us couldn’t sit still, but bounced from crate to crate to be sure we tasted everything and had a chance to talk to everyone.  The afternoon was perfect and completely shifted my paradigm. 

Check out The Boston Globe’s article on the trip here.

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