Sweet silver shells

The appeal of oysters is primal: They come without subterfuge or disguise, naturally perfect. They taste of nothing but the sea -- not as it is but as it would wish to be, crisp, clean, brimming with vigor and brine. And they require nothing of us but popping them open. There are few foods that can remind us of nature’s generosity in the same way.

Whether this is the reason for the tradition of serving oysters at the holidays, I can’t say. It may be coincidental that the peak of their season runs from December to February. If so, it is the happiest of accidents that they come along in the dead of winter, just when we most need a little gift.

It’s ironic, then, that most of us enjoy oysters only at restaurants. Can something still be a symbol of generosity when it’s being sold by the measly half-dozen?

Serve oysters at home and you can feast to your fullest. It takes remarkably little effort. You need nothing more than some shaved ice, a $10 oyster knife and, of course, the oysters.

That is usually the sticking point. First of all, where do you buy them? Oysters, being living things, are notoriously fragile. Almost everyone knows someone who has had a bad experience with them, or at least has heard tales.

How do you know which oysters to choose? It sometimes seems these days that there are more types of oysters in the Pacific than there are olive oils in Tuscany or Pinot Noirs in Sonoma.

And then, of course, how do you get the little beggars open?

Let’s start with the most complicated question first: variety. There are hundreds of types of oysters available today, but they all belong to one of five families. The specific names they’re sold under usually refer to the place they were raised, such as Fanny Bay or Skookum Inlet.

This is done not to confuse you; it’s done because the specific flavor of an oyster depends much more on the place it was raised than on which family it comes from. However, these general names do offer useful guidelines, especially since an oyster’s taste can vary so much depending upon the weather, time of year, and perhaps most important, whether or not it is egg-bearing (milting).

Eleanor Clark captured the problem exactly in her book “The Oysters of Locmariaquer” when she said that trying to describe the flavor of an oyster is like trying to capture the color of the sea. Though you will find quite detailed oyster tasting notes, read them with some skepticism. It’s not that cut and dried.

Indeed, at a recent tasting of more than 20 varieties of mostly West Coast oysters at downtown’s Water Grill, it was astonishing how much variation there was even among oysters of the same variety that had been harvested at the same place on the same day.

All five families of oysters are currently being raised on the West Coast, but the only one that is truly native to the American Pacific is the Olympia, or Ostrea lurida. Olympias are tiny oysters -- it can take several years for one to reach the size of a quarter. Despite their small size, they are very flavorful, in a delicately sweet sort of way, with a slightly metallic finish.

Because of their scarcity, Olympias are among the few oysters that are always sold under the same name, no matter where they are raised. The other is the Kumamoto (Crassostrea sikamea). Kumamotos originally came from Japan but almost all of the natives there have vanished and now the variety is being farmed almost exclusively on the West Coast.

Kumamotos are small, but not as tiny as the Olympias. And their shells are deeply cupped, meaning there’s a lot more room for meat. They are widely popular even among non-oyster-eaters because of their generally mild and sweet flavor.

Another small family is the flats, Ostrea edulis. This is the familiar oyster of Europe, where they are known as Belons or Marennes in France and Dorsets and Whitstables in England. They have round shells that are flat, rather than cupped. Edulis oysters are among the most delicious and distinctively flavored, with an easily recognizable coppery flavor.

Though they are being cultivated on the West Coast (most notably Totten Inlet and Westcott Bay) in Washington, flats can be hard to find. Because the flat shell allows them to dry out faster than other oysters, they are much harder to maintain at retail.

So far, fairly simple. But this is where it gets complicated. The remaining two families are so widespread and so multitudinous that it seems almost impossible to keep them straight.

Variations by venue

Rather than trying to memorize the individual place names and their attributes, it’s probably better to settle for the general family. By far the predominant oyster on the West Coast is the Crassostrea gigas, which is sold under names such as Hama Hama, Yaquina Bay, Sunset Beach and Fanny Bay. This is another Japanese import, though it has become so prevalent here that it is commonly called the Pacific oyster.

You can recognize gigas oysters by their shells, which are craggy and uneven, frequently to the point of having edges that actually appear to be ruffled. They can be very strong-flavored, so much so that when they grow big -- which they do very quickly -- they can be overwhelming even for oyster lovers.

For this reason, gigas oysters were originally regarded as worthy of being sold only in jars already shucked for cooking. Improved culturing techniques have resulted in smaller oysters with a slightly tempered bite that are among the kings of the half shell.

The other major clan of oysters is the East Coast’s indigenous Crassostrea virginica. The shells of these are generally smoother than those of gigas, and their flavor is generally milder.

Though the most famous virginica oysters are those from the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico (Apalachicolas, bluepoints, Wellfleets and Malpeques), they also are cultivated in small amounts in the Pacific. Those grown by Taylor Shellfish Farms at Totten Inlet are particularly beautiful, though they won’t be in commercial distribution until next year.

The other advantage to this familial approach to describing oysters is that in the real world of retail shopping, your choices are going to be limited anyway. Though you might have your heart set on Chef Creek, you may have only Hog Island and Fanny Bay to choose from.

Even the best shops in Southern California offer only three or four varieties on any given day. There simply isn’t the demand, and oysters are too fragile to stock a full range of choices. The good news is that most stores will special order oysters if you give them a couple of days’ notice. Expect to pay between 80 and 90 cents each.

Talking to wholesalers and distributors about where to buy oysters at retail, the same few names keep popping up: Fish King in Glendale, the Santa Monica Seafood chain and Los Angeles Fish downtown. High-end groceries such as Gelson’s, Whole Foods and Bristol Farms also have oysters but usually only one or two types. They will also special order, though.

Several of the better oyster companies also have websites where you can order direct. The downside is shipping, which can easily double the price of the oysters, making them slightly more expensive than retail. The advantage is that you’ll be getting oysters direct from the sea with no intermediate stops.

Because the holidays are such a popular time for oysters, the growers are very busy. It’s vital to get your orders in as soon as possible.

Rather than trying to create your own oyster bar with half a dozen varieties, it’s better to choose only one or two and taste deeply rather than widely.

Though oysters vary tremendously, in general, choose the ones that are the freshest. The counterman should be able to tell you which those are. According to federal law, for every batch of oysters, the store must have in its files a tag that tells the variety, the location, the harvest date and the shipping date.

If you arrange to pick up the oysters right before you serve them, some stores will shuck them for you for very little extra. It’s worth asking about, though there is a real hands-on pleasure to mastering the art yourself.

It’s not hard, really. You’ll need an oyster knife, which has a dull, stiff blade with a rounded tip. There’s nothing magical about this, though. A clam knife, which is shorter and broader, will work well. An oyster knife makes it a little easier to find the hinge; a clam knife offers greater torque for popping the shell. Once, in desperate straits, though, I opened oysters with a screwdriver (flat, not Phillips head, of course).

It’s easiest to wrap the oyster in a kitchen towel before starting -- to protect your hand both from the rough shell and any possible slips with the knife (it’s not so dull that it can’t give you a good gouge).

Fans of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” may remember an episode where food expert Ted Allen taught a novice to shuck. He gave him a chain-mail oyster glove to protect his hand, but at more than $125 each that has to be considered more of a wardrobe accessory than anything else.

Hold the oyster cup-side down and insert the tip of the knife into the hinge at the back of the shell. Work the point around until you feel the blade begin to slide in. Give the knife a twist, popping the hinge open wider. Slide the knife all the way in and sever the oyster where it is attached to the flat part of the shell. Remove the flat shell and cut underneath the oyster where it is attached to the cupped side. That’s all there is to it.

Collect the oysters on a platter of shaved ice (be sure to ask for an extra supply at the market). Oysters should be eaten very cold to keep the texture crisp and the flavor from becoming cloying.

Sauce definitely optional

Opinions vary on accompaniments. A horseradish-spiked cocktail sauce is standard American fare, and I suppose it could be fine on very ordinary oysters. A mignonette is more elegant, basically a half-cup of good red wine vinegar sweetened with a couple of minced shallots and a generous grinding of pepper. Some people serve them with just a squeeze of lemon. My preference is to serve them plain, with nothing disguising their briny splendor. This is not necessarily a sign of sophistication. Water Grill’s Michael Cimarusti, probably the best seafood cook I know, confesses somewhat sheepishly that his favorite after-shift snack is good oysters liberally doused with Tabasco sauce.

However you serve them, most references say to allow half a dozen oysters per diner. I’d say this is a good amount only if your friends don’t like oysters. Even in that unlikely case, it’s hardly enough to represent generosity. Remember that anything worth doing is worth overdoing, particularly when it is of a symbolic nature.

The oyster events that stand out in my mind are those rare times when I’ve been able to eat my absolute fill. Earlier this holiday season I brought a bushel of Hog Island oysters (roughly eight or nine dozen) to a friend’s house for dinner along with a few bottles of Champagne. Only after I’d shucked several dozen did I learn that three of the eight guests were allergic to oysters. Not a problem, the rest of us finished off almost half of the bushel before moving on to the main course.

The remainder I took home, and the next night I fixed a monumental oyster stew. I rendered a slice of chopped bacon and added a minced shallot. When that was soft, I poured in about two cups of half-and-half and half a cup of creme fraiche, just for good measure.

Then I added the remaining shucked oysters and their liqueur. The pot was thick with them; there was just enough liquid to keep the oysters from sticking together. It truly was an oyster stew and not a soup.

Right when the liquid began to bubble, I checked one of the oysters. It had poached just to the point of silkiness, like a slightly firmer version of its raw self. I ladled the stew into deep, heated bowls and we ate in front of the fire, groaning occasionally at our good fortune.

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Stalking the briny bivalve

Unlike a fish, you can’t judge the freshness of an oyster by looking at its eye. Indeed, there really aren’t any clues you can rely on. The best advice is to shop at a good store. Here is a list of places that were mentioned most often in interviews with wholesalers and distributors. They point out that the most important factor is shopping at a store that sells lots of oysters so that turnover is high and you’re likely to get the freshest product. They also point out that, although live oysters that have been stored properly should remain in good shape for up to six days after harvest, most shipments to Southern California arrive Sunday and Wednesday nights -- so the best days to shop are Monday and Thursday.

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Bristol Farms. Various locations. 99 cents each.

Fish King. 722 N. Glendale Ave., Glendale. (818) 244-2161. 79 cents each.

Los Angeles Fish Co. 420 Stanford Ave., Los Angeles, (213) 489-4236. 65 cents to 85 cents each, depending on variety and size of order.

Santa Monica Seafood. 1205 Colorado Ave., Santa Monica, (310) 393-5244; 424 S. Main St. Unit F, Orange (714) 456-0234; 154 E. 17th St., Costa Mesa (949) 574-0274. 79 cents each.

Whole Foods. Various locations. 79 cents each.