Mongrel Oysters Kilpatrick
Wooli may not be home to hipster cafes or trendy restaurants. In fact it’s sole café is only open, and I quote the guy out the front with the sea farers moustache, “Thursdy through Sundy” (I’m pretty sure that guy does the opening hours for the café and restaurant and oyster farm because no one seems to stick to a time table around here), and it’s only restaurant is at the lawn bowls club, operates out of a 2×4 rabbit hutch of a designated service window in a darkened corner of said club, and is named, like all good Aussie-Chinese restaurants should be, Harry’s Chinese Restaurant. There may not be a reputable purveyor of fresh fruit and vegetables to be seen unless what you are seeking is an apple or possibly a carrot. And if you need to re-stock your alcohol supplies while here you will need to have a shit load of pocket change (60 bucks for a carton of domestic beer should see you right), but if you don’t have that sort of change there is an old fisherman named Jacob who frequents the bar. He will happily buy you a beer. You will just need to meet him in the car park for a few minutes first and no, he’s not running an illegal boxing ring. You will be required to pay with pleasures of the flesh. Your fleshy chequebook, if I may.
But Wooli is home to two things that I love very much;
1. Serenity – if only to walk around quoting “The Castle” saying “how’s the serenity”
2. Scenery – I like looking at pretty things (that’s why I married Jennee. She owns heaps of pretty things. No, she IS a pretty thing. Girl. Woman. Whatever)
3. It’s own oyster farm. That’s right, fresh oysters not more than 400 meters down the street from where I’m staying
I don’t count so good.
So we picked up some oysters today on our daily excursion to the local skatepark. I cooked some of them in the style of a mongrel Kilpatrick and the rest would just have to find their way into our bellies with the aid of a little lemon juice.
I loved them, but I knew I would. A fresh oyster is truly close to my heart. The only problem is my sons are developing quite an inclination for the humble oyster too. When Seba sees oysters he turns into some kind of Jurassic Oysterosausras who seemingly will not live another minute if he does not consume at least half of the oysters on the table. Needless to say, I got a few, not heaps but a few before the kids had gone and I was left checking shells for a stow away. Alas my search was fruitless. I think there may be another trip to the oyster shop tomorrow.
MONGREL OYSTERS KILPATRICK
All I had on hand was some pork belly prosciutto from the fine folks at Salumi Australia (gimme a break, I’m trying to get some paid advertising here) and some home made HP-ish sauce from my mate Phil (you can learn more about Phil here). It was not oysters Kilpatrick but it was something that was damn tasty… and who eats oysters Kilpatrick these days anyway?
12 fresh oysters
3 thin slices prosciutto, each cut into 4 pieces
• Top oysters with a piece of prosciutto and then a couple of drops of HP(ish) sauce
• Cook under hot grill for 1 minute, no more
• Get some more tomorrow because you didn’t get to many that go