I first became obsessed and I mean FREAKIN' OBSESSED with oysters while hi-tailing across Mexico in my little solar trailer. A spit of a village sprang up out of nowhere and row after row of crude tables were draped along the 2 lane road - each sporting piles and piles of fresh oysters. Never had a better one since, though my cravings have taken me high and low.
Now, I know for sure in these jaunts, I've never had wild river oysters. At least that I know of. So, to hear a waitress in a tiny seafood shack in Rhode Island rave about these just harvested wild river oysters was a bit of a revelation. Wha?? Who knew.
We ordered up a half dozen and tentatively sniffed, picked, poked, and were just generally suspicious of them for a good :15 seconds. They were all gone in the next :15. What a fly back to the past. Now, I'm not saying they were as stunning as my plump Veracruz finds, but they blew away most oysters I've had round-the-world.
Nice to know the river can still turn out some wildly spectacular goods.