The Pearl is the Oyster’s Autobiography

Dublin Bay prawn.

When I had crevettes recently I mentioned they used to be called  Dublin Bay prawns. Actually I was wrong. Langoustine are called Dublin Bay prawns.

And I was wrong about something else. I assumed (never assume as a client once told me) they were caught in Dublin Bay way-back before pollution but, like Dover sole, both names originate from the ports where they were landed. On Friday I shared a dozen Carlingford Lough oysters with a friend at my club. They were shucked, something I prefer if I trust the kitchen, and delicious. Unlike Dublin Bay prawns and Dover sole, Carlingford Lough oysters do come from the lough but it’s a newish venture.

Kian Louët-Feisser of the Carlingford Oyster Company. Photograph: Carlingford Oyster Company

The Carlingford Oyster Company was only started in 1974 by Kian Louët-Feisser’s father. Now three generations of the family work in what has become an international business. Before Brexit 80% of Carlingford oysters were sent to the UK. Now 6 million euros of Irish oysters go to Asia, a market that pays a top price for a premium mollusc. Incidentally China grows a million tonnes of oysters annually; ten times the entire European production.

It’s a remarkable success story. I could not have imagined it as I slid my skinny self into the icy waters of the lough to learn to water ski in  1969. True, it took the Louët-Feissers, not an Irish name, to re-invent the old Norman town of Carlingford as a producer of oysters to match anywhere in the world. But it gives hope that evolution can beat revolution.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!’
      The Walrus did beseech.
A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
      Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
      To give a hand to each.’
 
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
      But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
      And shook his heavy head —
Meaning to say he did not choose
      To leave the oyster-bed.
 
But four young Oysters hurried up,
      All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
      Their shoes were clean and neat —
And this was odd, because, you know,
      They hadn’t any feet.
 
Four other Oysters followed them,
      And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
      And more, and more, and more —
All hopping through the frothy waves,
      And scrambling to the shore.
 
The Walrus and the Carpenter
      Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
      Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
      And waited in a row.
 
The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
      To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
      Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
      And whether pigs have wings.’
 
But wait a bit,’ the Oysters cried,
      Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
      And all of us are fat!’
No hurry!’ said the Carpenter.
      They thanked him much for that.
 
A loaf of bread,’ the Walrus said,
      Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
      Are very good indeed —
Now if you’re ready, Oysters dear,
      We can begin to feed.’
 
But not on us!’ the Oysters cried,
      Turning a little blue.
After such kindness, that would be
      A dismal thing to do!’
The night is fine,’ the Walrus said.
      Do you admire the view?
 
It was so kind of you to come!
      And you are very nice!’
The Carpenter said nothing but
      Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf —
      I’ve had to ask you twice!’
 
It seems a shame,’ the Walrus said,
      To play them such a trick,
After we’ve brought them out so far,
      And made them trot so quick!’
The Carpenter said nothing but
      The butter’s spread too thick!’
 
I weep for you,’ the Walrus said:
      I deeply sympathize.’
With sobs and tears he sorted out
      Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
      Before his streaming eyes.
 
O Oysters,’ said the Carpenter,
      You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
      But answer came there none —
And this was scarcely odd, because
      They’d eaten every one.”
(Extract from The Walrus and the Carpenter, Lewis Carroll)

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