This meal came about tonight because Marczyk is the only place around here among the more general places that advertised having oysters so I got all excited and ordered them. Once you buy these oysters you must serve them. They don't last forever you know.
While getting the oysters I might as well get everything else that I want that I would get from a regular store. What the heck. So what if that means the whole thing will be one million dollars more than regular shopping.
Marczyk didn't have Napa cabbage.
And all their dairy comes in bottles. All the stuff that I ordered did.
The Instacart picker is the driver. My picker/driver is a tall young man with hipster proclivities. You never do know how this is going to work out. Sometimes they drop the delivery outside my front door and other times they need a bit more help.
Caleb
This picker/driver parked in the back and asked me to come down with a cart. Only 4 bags that he could have carried but they are rather heavy. I could not carry them. But he could.
I am old and I am slow. I am handicapped and I walk with two wooden canes so I am a bit slower than a regular guy. Correction. I am the slowest person out on the street. It's frustrating. I told the driver to be patient, that I am slow. But I will hurry. The driver sees all this when I see him.
Apologies for taking so long.
That's okay. No problem.
I had to put on socks and shoes.
Hmmm.
And a shirt.
Cool shirt.
It's the one with the astronaut making a gang sign. Nobody seems to know this, at least nobody has mentioned so far, that is the same sign for "I love you" in pigeon-ASL. You probably know it, the finger spelled "I" and "L" and "Y" simultaneously. It looks like a gang sign.
And I had to smoke a bowl.
Caleb looked at me. I didn't blink. I just stood there and looked stupid. It's easy for me to do. I erase my face. Very easy to do since half was paralyzed from Bell's palsy. I just erase the whole thing. No smile. No grin. I hold my eyes open. Like a baby deer. Innocent. Then I make it worse.
And my dog is all gimme some, gimme some, come on, come on, gimme some.
Caleb looks at me appalled that I can be so careless with someone on a schedule waiting.
So I had to load another bowl and inhale it then blow it in his face like I usually do. He's such a little bitch sometimes. Sorry you had to wait.
Caleb cannot believe what he is hearing. Animal abuse right here. Disregard for humans waiting.
Psych! I don't have a dog. I don't smoke. And I really am this slow. I went fast as I could.
Caleb is thinking this would have been a lot better had he just brought up the bags. He'd already be gone by now.
My parents would poop a brick.
Caleb said, "You got some pretty good stuff."
And he would know. He picked it.
Amish chicken. I think that means they let it run around.
And maybe the company is just appropriating the Amish's good solid name.
The place in New Orleans called this Oysters Rockefeller because the dish is so rich they needed the name of a rich guy.
Today this would be Oysters Bezos whether or not Bezos even eats oysters. Because he is rich. Not because Bezos likes oysters this way.
Uckemfay.
We don't need to buttress our richness by taking the name of a rich person. That's idiotic.
Plus they are not that rich. Jazzing it up with stuff isn't the same as making something rich. We are used to seeing things really jazzed up with expensive ingredients, saffron, truffles, caviar, aceto balsamico, while bread crumbs lighten up the whole mixture. Butter and cream and cheese are all rich, yes, but not that much is used. A slice of cheesecake is richer. So the whole premise is stupid. Picking a rich person to name it, and it really isn't that rich. New Orleans tradition really is stupid sometimes.
And you cannot find two recipes alike.
Because the original guy died. And took his recipe with him. F.U., New Orleans. You're stupid. And quite selfish.Take your stupid oysters and shove them. The whole rest of the world will do as we wish even base our ideas on yours.
Spinach was not part of the original deal. But look what he did put in it to make it green: parsley, celery, scallion. And he also used an alcohol that fell out of style to the point of being outlawed. For causing hallucinations. But it's been brought back into production. But no one alive can vouch for its authenticity. It's just another alcohol with quite a lot of herbs in it. Cooks add a fortified wine or alcohol with anise.
If you must have anise, then just add some fennel. If you must have wine then nearly anything drinkable will do, from sake to Madeira.
One of the videos I watched said that an early western food writer ate two dozen to fifty oysters each morning for breakfast.
What a pig.
This is only six and I am full. There are six more with all this filling chilled separately.
One dozen raw oysters is a lot. Two dozen oysters is quite a lot and people do that routinely.
I almost feel sorry for oysters. I murdered six of them tonight. They resist but they do not scream. Even as their defenses are broken and destroyed they stay perfectly silent. I win every time. They all die and I don't even get hurt. Tomorrow the remaining six will be murdered. I kill bivalves by the dozen and all that I worry about is stabbing my own hand. But that cannot happen because I worry so much. Each working movement is made to fail away from me. Shucking oysters is entering the freak zone of potential self harm. And when you forget that, jab, you stab yourself hard. Because you were fighting with an inert oyster simply giving you the resistance.
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