Huîtres d’Arcachon

Ever since the oyster incident at L’Express in Paris, I’ve been wary of French oysters, but if Arcachon is renowned for their briny bivalves and the Huang Family Circus is willing to drive northwards a few hours in search of these juicy aphrodisiacs on a beautiful spring day, I am not one to shoot down a second shot at les huîtres francaises. 

No. 0


This is why you should believe in second chances. You don’t know what you’re missing!

I must have said a prayer or something before gulping down the meaty monsters (the lower the number, the larger the oyster…these were “0”!) and thankfully they did not taste like gasoline. Woohoo! They were surprisingly refreshing yet creamy. I’d say they were much more akin to west coast oysters. Of course they cannot compare to my favorites (la crème de la crème from Cape Cod and Rhode Island), but they were appetizing enough to merit another round of huîtres, this time the no. 3.

Harvest oysters?

The oyster museum happened to be closed so we walked around the pier and admired the tranquilidad y naturaleza. Then again, there was no avoiding these funky looking, funky smelling whatcha-ma-call-its.

Oyster graveyard

If I get the chance again, I’ll be sure to drop by Arachon for some oyster shack hopping. (The other shacks were closed this time around). A glass of Sancerre, a plate full of oysters, seated at a roundtable with the Huang family circus, chatting and admiring the landscape and passersby (including a pug!), such is la vie.

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