How trite. Oysters for Valentine's Day.
Well, don't worry. Cranky wasn't trying to get lucky. These were cooked oysters. The magic doesn't work if they're cooked, does it? Never mind, I'll tell you in a few hours.
It has become our fallback oyster: West Marin style.
Last time we cooked them in the smoker while our bacon came to perfection (shame to waste all that heat and smoke, eh?).
This time we used the Smokey Joe, a tiny Weber grill you can buy at the drugstore for pretty cheap, and when your household is two people, little Joe is all we need. (Had to perch the grill up on a table to keep the young puppy away; she was six months old two days ago.)
Oh, they were delicious, and I don't have any true Marin heritage. I just know what I like.
A couple of years ago, up in Marshall, we chatted with the grill guy at Tony's while he cooked our bivalves. He was generous with the tips: Put the oysters on the grill. When the top shell loosens, wrench it off and apply a little bordelaise sauce. As soon as the oysters shrink away from the shell, dab on the barbecue sauce. Eat.
I've talked with locals who prefer a mignonette to a bordelaise, but I like the butter. As for the BBQ sauce, I make my own terribly simple version from homemade tomato sauce, salt, several drops of bottled hot sauce, and a pinch of ground cardamom.
OK, I'm back. It worked.