The truth about seafood

Since I was three years old, I have despised seafood. I can remember sitting at the dinner table with my mom and dad with a big chunk of fish on my plate. I was incredibly slick, even as a toddler, and would take the biggest bite ever then ask to use the potty. Immediately, I would spit out the fish and flush it down the toilet. This would happen roughly 5-6 times during dinner and my parents never caught on. Like I said before, I was slick.

I did the same thing with a pound of asparagus. That's when mom got pissed and told me to let her know what food I didn't like so I could stop being so damn wasteful. Kids in Africa are starving. Oh, and the toilet overflowed a bunch of asparagus. Oops.

So what is it about seafood that makes it so unbearable, you ask? I think the texture is gross. I think the smell is gross. I think the process to get your seafood to the point of where it's edible (okay just shellfish) is absolutely gross. General consensus on my part...seafood is gross.

There have been times growing up where I can remember incidents where someone tried to reintroduce me to the food group. The time my mom decided to boil lobster when I was 12. I about had a heart attack when she threw Little Red into the pot. Yes, I named him. Or then there was the time in Nashville when I was 15 at one of the nicest private dining clubs where I was served the shrimp in my pasta when I specifically told them "NO SHRIMP". It was sent back, and someone clearly picked through it instead of making me fresh pasta. Needless to say, I didn't eat it. Instead, my friend's dad stopped at McDonald's so I could get some nugs. Or the time when I was 21 where I was forced to try calamari or starve.

The turning point was this year. I spent Memorial Day on the Intercoastal waters of South Georgia with the Tarver Family (my best friends family in law). They are a seafood eating, low-country boil having, deep sea fishing, Southern family. Mr. Tarver took us all out for an afternoon on the high seas. My best friend and her then fiance were either incredibly sea-sick or incredibly hungover and spent the entire trip sleeping on the boat. So Mr. Tarver and I fished. And boy did I fish. In addition to this little 20lb King Cobia, I also caught a Spanish Mackerel and a Barracuda which was promptly thrown back. Also caught were a bunch of little guys we used for live bait. So what did they make me do? They made me eat a piece of fish that I caught. And it wasn't all that bad.  They also insisted on having nothing but Oysters for Sudie and Travis' rehearsal dinner. Which is where I became introduced to shellfish.

Fast forward a couple months to the Steamhouse Oysterfest. Held annually, it's a great excuse to drink a ton of beer and shuck a bunch of oysters. Which is precisely what the bf and I did. Buckets of steamed oysters were $12 and boy did we think we were getting a good deal. Little did we know, they were not steamed enough and extremely hard to open, even for a seasoned expert oyster eater like myself. Truth be told, it was only the 3rd time in my life eating oysters.

So here are some pictures of the festival....

Look at that determination...

...Just to get a measly little oyster....

....So much freaking work.....

....Jab the oyster shuck in...

.....Move it around to pop that sucker open...

....slop it on a cracker...cover in hot sauce....Enjoy.

Well for most people, that is the process. But for people like me, who don't practice shellfish cracking on a regular basis, there's an additional step. Visit the Emergency Room to get stitches. Which is exactly what I should have done. Instead, when I sliced my finger open with an oyster shuck, I wrapped it in paper towels and walked to Tin Lizzy's to get nacho's and more beer. Two weeks later, the gash is starting to heal, but will most certainly scar. It's also disgusting to look at. And may I say, quite painful. Note to Self - go to the ER next time. 

By the way, all this was to talk about the new restaurant I tried for the month of February, called Lure. It's a trendy little seafood place in the heart of Midtown. The best part, it didn't wreak of fish. The second best part? Their cheeseburger was AMAZING. Third best part? The ice cubes. They are big, bobbing, blocks of ice. I saw one of my coworkers get a Diet Coke and immediately needed one too. I mean, I had about three DC's already that day, but that giant ice cube melted my heart (not my drink) and I had to have it. Fourth best part? The decor. So cool. So open. So crisp and clean. Overall, it's a bit pricey, but worth every penny. 

Well that's all for now, my little fishy friends. And remember, if you're going to shuck, please practice safe shucking.

-L