Maine on a Half Shell: That Other Local Shellfish - Part 1

This is the first of a two-part and slightly revised version and expanded version of a lecture I presented before the New Gloucester (Maine) Historical Society on September 19, 2019.

I am not certain when I ate my first oyster, be it cooked or nude (raw). I was born and raised in the Midwest - Wisconsin mostly with its dairy farms and breweries. Lots of cows, hay and corn; plenty of milk, cheese, and beer. You get the picture. We did have the Great Lakes and their bounty, but where I grew up we were hundreds of miles from the closest oyster beds.

This is not to say that oysters did not occasionally pop up on a menu, especially Oysters Rockefeller, or oysters on a half shell (some say "in" a half shell) in some of your fancier restaurants in Milwaukee or Madison, or even Chicago - my hometown - whenever we ventured that far. But folks in Wisconsin seemed to prefer a simple Friday night fish fry and all the yellow perch and walleye you could eat. If I did go somewhere fancy to eat on a holiday or on a special occasion, I was content with a shrimp cocktail or maybe some pickled herring. I even had snails a couple time and enjoyed them just fine. But oysters. They seldom entered the picture.

I attended college for most of my undergraduate career in Florida where my Midwestern culinary horizons were greatly expanded, including an introduction to other types of seafood not sold in supermarkets or served in restaurants back in the Midwest; at least not five decades ago. Grouper, mackerel, red snapper . . . the list goes on. These new discoveries were delicious. It was also during this time when I began to eat lobster, although unless it was a special occasion when the offering was a Maine lobster served at a restaurant, one was more than likely treated to a Caribbean spiny lobster from local waters between midsummer and early spring. Although oysters were harvested in Florida, I would not discover them until later.

It was during the year I attended a German university and traveled throughout Europe in the early 1970s when I began trying all sorts of foods I had never had before. There were fermented Vietnamese century eggs and other street foods consumed in a back street on Paris’ Left Bank. Or sampling live snails although there was some doubt they were still alive when you ate them. Herring in aspic? Oh, the list goes on and on. More importantly, my diet in Europe also included the delicious North Sea flat oysters harvested from the expansive tidal flats along the Dutch, German, and Danish coasts which could be purchased at the daily market in the center of Freiburg where I did most of my shopping. They were over harvested and further thinned out by the invasive Pacific oyster although efforts continue to restore the native flat oysters.

So I had a taste for oysters when I returned from Germany to Florida and discovered that the Sunshine State, as well the Gulf of Mexico coastlines of Mississippi and Louisiana produced some of the finest tasting oysters in North America. Back then oysters grew like weeds down in the Gulf and were still grown wild for the most part versus farmed oysters, and were relatively affordable. The lower salinity levels of the Gulf also protected wild oysters from certain diseases in a way that hasn’t happened in the Chesapeake Bay and elsewhere. My favorite Florida oysters are those from the waters near Apalachicola, on the eastern Panhandle, which is the last place in the United States where, by law, wild oysters are still harvested by tongs from small boats. Still, during frequent visits to north Florida I love to drive over to the Gulf coast at Cedar Key where you can find me slurping down trays of local Pelican Reef (Eastern) oysters on the half shell arrayed over crushed ice . . . with a drop of Tabasco sauce, a dab of horseradish, and a few wedges fresh lemon.

Pelican Reef Oysters at Cedar Key, Florida

I moved from Florida to Tucson for graduate school. Yes, it’s in the Arizona desert and it is not known for seafood although there is good seafood not far away in Southern California, and even closer, in Mexico, and some of it made it up to the better restaurants around town. Being a graduate student, I tended to seek out less expensive fare. But no oysters to speak of; at least I never ate them while living out West to my recollection. It was probably not until 1976, shortly after SallyAnn and I moved from Tucson to Maryland with easy access to the Chesapeake Bay, that I finally got into the habit of eating wild oysters . . . and a raw one to boot . . . which were at the time plentiful, harvested by trawl and hand tonging, and relatively cheap. And there has been no looking back since. I will occasionally eat oysters cooked - roasted or fried usually - but my default preference is freshly shucked bivalves served on the half shell . . . and yes . . . with a drop of Tabasco sauce and a little dab of horseradish and some freshly cut lemon wedges. That’s all you really need and we are talking about a feast fit for the gods! I became an official ostreaphile . . . an oyster afficionado.

Chesapeake Bay is not a bay at all but actually a tidal estuary, the largest in the US, where fresh and salt water mix to medium salinity. It was long considered the "Napa Valley of oysters. While wines have terroirs, oysters are defined by "meroirs" determined by water salinity, temperature, the types of algae present in the water, and seabed characteristics. These all factor into an individual oyster’s flavor. There are only five unique species of oysters in the United States – Pacific, Kumamoto, European Flat or Belon, Olympia, and along the Gulf of Mexico, all the way to the waters of Maine and the Canadian Maritime, including the Chesapeake Bay, the best know in the common Eastern Oyster – Crassostrea virginica which has many different market names –"Wellfleets" "Blue Points" "Dodge Coves" – depending where they are harvested. They are all the same species yet oysters differ from state to state, from river to river and even from cove to cove.

The Chesapeake Bay oyster beds were dense throughout, and the local bivalves flourished in the warm waters along the indented shoreline and various tributaries – especially the Susquehanna, the Potomac, and the Choptank in Maryland, and the James and the Rappahanock in Virginia. Oyster rocks, or reefs, were so abundant that they presented a hazard to shipping in and out of Baltimore. Chesapeake oysters grew plump and sweet and forty years ago you could buy a bushel and not break the bank. Alas, the local watermen have harvested this apparently inexhaustible resource for over two centuries until today there are virtually no more wild oysters to harvest in the Chesapeake Bay. All the best now come from aquaculture operations in Virginia tributaries. In fact, 95% of all oysters consumed in the world today are farm-raised. And they are no longer cheap or as easy to come by. You can imagine my consternation. 

Part 2 will discuss this Marylander’s thoughts on the evolution the Maine oyster.

A Sunny Morning with Bright Blue Skies . . . 18 Years Later

On that fateful morning of September 11, 2001 I was at my desk just three short blocks from the White House as my colleagues and I followed the unfolding of those tragic events in New York City. And while we and much of America watched in horror as two commercial airliners crashed into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in lower Manhattan, American Airlines Flight 77, a Boeing 757 carrying 59 passengers and crew, was hijacked by five terrorists after its departure from Washington’s Dulles International Airport and deliberately crashed into the west side of the Pentagon at 9:37am. The plane struck the building at the first-floor level while traveling at 345 mph, and debris and fires penetrated the three outermost rings of the building. The building was severely damaged, and one section at the impact site collapsed. In the meantime a third plane crashed into the rural hills of western Pennsylvania as it flew toward another unsuspecting target in Washington.  In the aftermath, I joined thousands of others crowding the streets and sidewalks of downtown Washington as we made our way out of the city on foot, the smoke of the burning Pentagon rising into an otherwise cloudless blue sky.
 
Who can ever forget?  September 11, 2001 was a day when everything changed in the United States, if not the entire world.   Since then we have been bogged down in a seemingly endless war in Afghanistan in which more Americans have sacrificed their lives.   Osama Bin Laden, the Al-Qaeda mastermind of the 9/11 atrocities is dead and his organization in shamble yet we still live on the brink, awaiting what surely will come next.

We need to stop living in fear.  A year ago I said it was seventeen years later it was time we finally put our best face forward again as a country.  Another year has gone by and I fear we have yet to do that.  And as I look around me I see no real effort to do so in the foreseeable future.  On September 11, 2001 it seemed as if time stood still.   We tried to catch our breath and understand what was happening and why.  It’s time to start breathing again.  It’s time to take our fate in our own hands again.   It’s time we regain our moral compass and start acting like the great nation we were before that sunny morning with bright blue skies.  It really is up to us.

Enjoying Currywurst - Another German Dilemma?

There are several dilemmas, or at least potential dilemmas, facing our German allies these days. There is the threat of an economic recession and what the future will bring when long-serving Chancellor Merkel steps down in 2021. What will Germany’s role be in a post Brexit European Union? There is the growing problem of immigration and the threat of a far right political resurgence, especially in the states of the former communist German Democratic Republic [GDR/East Germany]. The list continues to grow much to the consternation of the German government and the German people. There is one dilemma, however, that has not received much media attention but is always on a German’s mind. What is the proper way to eat a Wurst, the traditional German sausage in its various manifestations?
Up until the early post World War II years a Wurst should be eaten with a knife and fork when consume at home or in a restaurant. And they are frequently served as Imbissbuden [street food, or take out], along with freshly made sauerkraut and/or carmelized onions and with a generous dab of stone-ground mustard. As a student in West Germany in the early 1970s, I often stopped by one of the several Schnellimbiss fast food wagons situated on the Marktplatz surrounding the minster in Freiburg in Breisgau. They served a variety of Wurst – Bratwurst, Knackwurst, Weisswurst, Bockwurst, and others – in this traditional way nestled between two halves of a freshly baked Brötchen [small bread roll]. Call me a purist if you want, but that is the way I always preferred to eat a German Wurst.
 
Yet things have changed a great deal in Germany over the past five decades. The Iron Curtain and the Berlin Wall have fallen and the two German states have reunified into the dominant economic power in Europe. And Germans now seem to prefer the Currywurst variant over the more traditional version. This is a steamed and then fried Bratwurst

[pork sausage with or without it skin, or Darm] which is cut into small portions and seasoned with a curry-based tomato sauce and then dusted with a few shakes of curry powder and/or other spices. It is usually served with a small wooden fork and a side of pomme-frites. 

The story goes that the Currywurst was first invented by Herta Heuwer on September 4, 1949 in the Charlottenburg district of Berlin. It was the year the two postwar German states were founded and Heuwer had obtained ketchup, curry powder (and some say Worcestershire sauce although there is some debate about this) from a British soldier among those occupying the city after the war. She used the ingredients to season Bratwurst at her Schnellimbiss located at the corner of Kantstraße and Kaiser-Friedrich-Straße in Charlottenburg. She later patented her sauce as "Chillup" in 1951 and opened additional stands around West Berlin. The original food stand remained opened until 1974 and the last of the Heuwer Schnellimbiss stands shuttered five years later. There are now over two thousand Schnellimbiss locations throughout Berlin alone where Currywurst is served, and it popularity has spread and Currywurst stands are now ubiquitous throughout Germany.

So popular is this newer variant that a German Currywurst Museum [Deutsches Currywurst Museum] opened in Berlin in 2009. Dedicated to the history and cultural phenomena of this now iconic German dish, the museum was located at Schützenstraße 70 in central Berlin adjacent to the former Checkpoint Charlie transit through the Wall into East Berlin and the GDR near where Herta Heuwer operated one of her Schnellimbiss. It once welcomed over 350,000 visitors annually before it closed permanently in December 2018 when its original lease expired. There are plans to transform the former museum exhibits into a traveling exhibition serving as an cultural ambassador telling the world about this unique German dish. Only time will tell.

On return trips to Germany, and enjoying curry dishes in general, I began to sample Currywurst in its many variations and quickly developed an appreciation for the classic Bratwurst version (with its slightly crunchy skin) slathered with thick (never runny) curry sauce with a side of fries and a dab or two of mayonnaise for dipping. Even better with a cold bottle of the local beer to wash it all down.

During my most recent visit to Berlin I vowed to sample Currywurst at several of the Schnellimbiss throughout the city well-known for this local fare. I won’t mention them all by names . . . there are just too many . . . and some were better

than others and some were exceptional; Best Worscht, on the Leipziger-Platz just south of the Brandenburg Gate, to name just one. I went back there more than once. I also returned to my old stomping grounds in Freiburg where I visited the Schnellimbiss wagons on the Marktplatz just as I did during my student days there. I found that the Currywurst had replaced the various types of sausage with onions and sauerkraut as the preferable offering among their customers. The times, they are a changin’.

Today the Currywurst celebrates its 70^th anniversary and to commemorate Herta Heuwer’s first offering the Berlin State Mint has issued a silver alloy coin featuring a pair of Currywurst covered in sauce and pierced with a wooden fork with the image of Frau Heuwer in the background. I am still torn between the grilled Wurst served with sauerkraut, onions and mustard served cradled in a small roll, or the spicy Currywurst with a side of fries and mayonnaise. I guess for each of us it come down to a personal preference, or whatever strikes our fancy at any particular moment. Both variants are tasty and beyond satisfying. So I guess there is no dilemma after all. Which is good; the Germans have enough on their hands at the moment.

Wienermobile and Whistles Redux

Driving up Maine Route 26 on our way to far northern New Hampshire for a long weekend, we passed through the town of Oxford where we chanced upon the Wisconsin-based Oscar Mayer Wienermobile which was touring through southern Maine.  I had an immediate flashback to my younger days in Wisconsin and my first memorable encounter with the iconic Wienermobile.  I have very fond memories of Oscar Mayer hotdogs in my youth. Hot dogs and Oscar Mayer went together.  Our refrigerator was always stocked with its hot dogs and other sliced sandwich meats in packages displaying the familiar red and mustard yellow Oscar Mayer logo.  Who could pass up a chance to reconnect with those distant yet fond memories . . . and to find out if it was still true . . .  “If I was an Oscar Mayer Wiener, everyone would be in love with me.”

But what is so special about the Wienermobile?  In 1912, the company began to use a Model T Ford to deliver meats in and around Chicago, and in 1936 it came up with a new marketing strategy . . . using an automobile chassis onto which an oversized body in the shape of a hot dog was affixed. Dubbed the “Wienermobile,” this 27-foot motorized hot dog originally traveled around Chicago promoting the company’s “German-style wieners” and  the wholesome goodness of its meats.  

I got up close and personal with the Oscar Mayer Company (which is now a division of Kraft Foods and probably owned by the Chinese if you look deep enough), in the summer of 1965, when my family moved to Maple Bluff, an insular suburb of Madison, Wisconsin on the shores of Lake Mendota.  Prevailing winds out of the east would bring with them a redolent reminder of the company’s packing plant - the scent of countless cookouts and breakfasts gone by. The kids of the corporate chairman, a great grandson of the original Oscar Mayer, and the then company president were my classmates at Sherman Junior High School which stands almost in the shadows of the packing plant.

I had heard of and seen pictures of the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile when I was a youngster, but it was during my time in Madison that I saw one up close for the first time at a fall festival held at Tenney Park.  I had always thought that there was one Wienermobile driven by the one and only Little Oscar. That is how it all started out, anyway.  As it turned out, by the time I had my first encounter of the Wienermobile kind, it was one of a growing fleet of Weinermobiles piloted by a phalanx of Little Oscars.  And on that day in Tenney Park I discovered that the father of one of my other classmates was a member of the Little Oscar fraternity and in command of the Wienermobile on site.  At the end of the day, I had the honor of riding with my friend and his dad on the trip back up Sherman Avenue to return the Wienermobile to its garage near the packing plant.  As a parting gift, Little Oscar (at least the one I got to meet and talk to) gave me my very own Wiener Whistle cast in the image of the iconic Wienermobile.

 
Now the Wienermobile fleet is crewed by “Hotdoggers” trained at Hot Dog High, in Madison.  It has been updated and modernized several times over the years.  Al Unser took one of them on a test lap at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 1988 and clocked speeds in excess of 90 mph.  Now, that is a fast wiener in anybody’s book.  In these hard economic times a wise shopper tends to select store brands over the big name products.  I seldom buy Oscar Mayer products anymore, but every time I see the familiar logo I think back to the old days and the backyard cookouts and the Wienermobile with Little Oscar at the wheel.

So there was the Wienermobile parked in a Walmart parking lot in Oxford, Maine.   More sleek and modern than I remember it, but there was no mistaking what it was.  So we stopped, chatted briefly with a pretty young Hotdogger who was packing up and preparing for the trip to the next stop on its tour.  She presented us with new Wiener Whistles as we took a few photos for the scrapbook.

As we pulled out of the parking lot to continue our weekend road trip with the Wienermobile right behind us, my wife and I broke into song.

Oh I wish I were and Oscar Mayer Wiener.
That is what I’d truly love to be.
For if I were an Oscar Mayer Wiener,
everyone would be in love with me.




I guess it really is true.