Bluff oysters

We’re sitting in the back of a Dunedin taxi on our way to dinner at the beachside restaurant Pier 24 in the Hotel St. Clair when Justin says, “You know what would really be perfect for dinner tonight? Bluff oysters.”

“Yes,” I say. “And champagne.”

“Oh, yeah,” says Justin. “And venison.”

“Venison? Why the hell venison?”

“New Zealand venison is sweet as,” says Justin. Sometime during the last 24 hours Justin has started to talk like a Kiwi. Everything from the long black he had at breakfast to some craft beer he had in a pub this afternoon is “sweet as.”

When we get to Pier 24, Hamish and Annie are waiting for us. “What would you like to drink?” Hamish asks us.

“Well…” I stammer and before I can say anything else, Hamish says, “Because Annie and I were thinking an Otago sparkling wine would be nice.”

“Sweet as!” says Justin, holding up his index finger. We’ve got the bubbles part of our wish list. Now there’s just the oysters and venison.

When the waiter comes to take our order, Justin says, “You don’t have any Bluff oysters, do you?”

Before the waiter answers, let me tell you a little bit about Bluff oysters: They’re the best in the world. They’re plump, juicy and have the consistency of raw clams. Even people who don’t normally like oysters tend to like Bluff oysters. They come from the southern-most point of the South Island where they are so famous that the area holds an annual festival every year in May to celebrate them. Food stalls turn them in to oyster pies and oyster stew, batter them, fry them, barbecue them, and, of course, serve them raw. In short, Bluff oysters are sweet as.

Anyway, the waiter tells Justin they did have Bluff oysters on the brunch menu but, unfortunately, they’re all out. And then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Although we may have one or two dozen still in the back.”

What?

“We’ll take all that you have,” Justin says. “Immediately.”

And not five minutes later, out comes two plates of Bluff oysters, a dozen raw and another dozen in a tempura batter.

“Sweet as!” says Justin.

“Bluff oysters and sparking wine,” I mumble. “It doesn’t get any better.”

“I know, right?” says Justin.

“Except…” I say, looking over the main courses on the menu, “did you see the third entrée item?”

Justin laughs. “What? How is this even possible? Venison? They have venison at a seafood restaurant?”

“The triple crown,” I say. “Champagne, Bluff oysters, and venison.”

“This is crazy!”

And it is. But it is also wonderful.