A micro memoir created in the University of Baltimore graduate-level Electronic Publishing course in the Fall of 2021. This piece is also published in The Baltimore Fishbowl.
The most challenging part about shucking an oyster is not cutting the belly once you've got the shell open. It's an easy mistake. When the shell finally gives way, your instinct is to slice straight back through the belly and quickly reveal your masterpiece. Unfortunately, this ruins the oyster. The trick to getting a "pretty shuck" is to tilt the knife above the belly so you can detach it from the shell without slicing through it… it's a lot easier to demonstrate than to explain.
"They look like vaginas!" I said, probably a little too loudly, once I had finally got my first "pretty shuck."
My coworker agreed with me. Now that I think about it, I don't know if she genuinely agreed with me or just wanted to make me feel welcome at the time. Either way, it worked.
It didn't take long for me to get the hang of a "pretty shuck" in hindsight. I'd started at The Local Oyster about a week ago and was already beginning to find my groove. Now, I'm staring at a backed-up queue of over 80 oysters! No lie, five plates of a dozen and four of a half dozen, that's 84 oysters. I don't mind, though; it goes by fast.
The thing about shucking is you don't have to interact with customers much. You may say "Hello!" or "You're welcome," but mostly, you put your head down and shuck. I enjoy the silent, autonomous work; my mind wanders to great places.
The Local Oyster owner, Nick Shauman, poses with Tim "Chyno" Chin (a.k.a. "The Boy With the Blue Beard" and "The Baltimore Foodie") and American food critic and YouTube personality Daym Drops during filming for the Netflix show, "Fresh, Fried, and Crispy."
The Local Oyster owner, Nick Shauman, poses with the head chef of True Chesapeake Oyster Co., Zack Mills, and master oyster shucker, Corey Bacon, at a local nonprofit fundraiser.
Today's stream of thoughts is particularly reflective. Suppose you told me 18 months ago that I would end up at a Netflix-famous seafood restaurant in Baltimore, shucking and eating oysters of all things. In that case, I would have asked you if you were on drugs and, mainly, what kind. At that time, I was broke, directionless, and unemployed. Not to throw shade at me, but I used to live on the struggle bus.
Don't get me wrong, becoming an oyster shucker was not part of my plan. I'm always tired, dirty, and smelly after work, which is not my favorite way to be. Being in the restaurant scene was only supposed to be a temporary gig. I had ambitions of becoming a successful marketing professional and only entered this business to feed myself and pay for my bachelor's degree.
I was sure I would work in a big city like New York, Chicago, or Atlanta, but that didn't happen. After nearly ten years of putting my dreams on the back burner, I'm happy to say that today is one of my last shifts.
Leaving is bittersweet, but my coworkers will always be my first Baltimore family, and The Local Oyster will always hold a special place in my heart. It will be a memento of when I finally started to live the way I wanted. I got into grad school, moved out of my hometown, and finally felt FREE! Free of limitations and free of expectations. Not to mention, I'm moving on to anexciting new career in digital content marketing, which is where I've wanted to be since I completed my undergrad degree.
I'm so excited. I'm so proud of myself. Should I write a book or something? Yes, I should! I could call it--
"Excuse me! Can I please have some horseradish and some hot sauce?!" I guess she had been standing there for a while.
"My apologies," I said, "here you go." I smiled; she didn't. She would have snatched it from me if she wasn't worried about spilling her hot sauce.
Anyway, 54 more oysters to go.
