Yesterday morning (Wednesday), I left my house a little late. Usually I eat breakfast at home, but yesterday I had no time. I raced to the farmers market where I was to tape the market report with Laura Avery and assorted guests. This week, we talked to the guys at Carlsbad Aquafarm about their mussels and clams. Perfect, I thought. I can have oysters for breakfast.
My parents live outside New Haven, Connecticut in a small village called Stony Creek. One Christmas morning, their neighbor, an oysterman, broughtover fresh oysters. He shucked them for us as we stood around the kitchen sink. I thought about that Christmas morning as I stood on Arizona, near the Pacific Ocean, slurping down my Wednesday morning breakfast. I thanked the cute guys that work the Aquafarm booth – I thanked them for the briny oysters and for making sure I can have them every Wednesday if I want. I don’t have to wait until Christmas.