Go on .... shell out

Mark Hix offers pearls of wisdom when it comes to opening, cooking and eating one of the nation's favourites: oysters. Photographs by Jason Lowe

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It's not much of a gastronomic centre now but Colchester or Camulodunum, as it was then called, was the capital of Roman Britain. And of oyster cultivation.The Italians have been knocking British food since then; the Roman historian Pliny commented that the only good thing about Britain was its oysters. The Romans were knowledgeable about such delicacies and took them back to Rome, leaving the shells of our native Colchester oyster to be excavated as historic records in the ruins of the ancient city.

Until the mid-19th century there was a thriving oyster industry in the Blackwater and other estuaries along the Essex coast. Maldon's famous for the sea salt marshes, and a historic battle, but on a chilly morning this time last year I went there in search of oysters that are the reminder of the area's busy past. Oysters aren't reared there now but those that escaped from captivity, as it were, have since bred. While we waited for the tide to go out, between hot coffee and sausage sandwiches, we picked young, tender wild sea spinach leaves on the banks. We then waded into the silty estuary and gathered native and rock oysters camouflaged in the grey, wet sand. We were totally alone in the few miles of the peaceful tidal estuary, gathering food for free. If this had been France we wouldn't have been alone, I can assure you.

An easier way to collect oysters hereabouts – and for which you don't need inside knowledge – is to visit The Colchester Oyster fishery in Pyfleet Quay, Mersea Island (www.colchesteroysterfishery.sagenet.co.uk). They farm native and rock oysters and clams, too. You can sample them at The Company Shed, a destination for shellfish lovers, run by Richard and Heather Haward, next to the yacht club in West Mersea.

There was once much more oyster activity round this stretch of Essex. Oyster boats sailed round the coast and up the Thames, mooring up at Billingsgate where their catch fetched low prices before being sold cheaply in East End streets and ale houses. When trains became an alternative and quicker means of transportation, demand for oysters grew inland and subsequent over- fishing diminished stocks. If you want to read more about the history of oysters I'd recommend The English, The French and The Oyster by Robert Neild (Quiller Press).

Clean water is essential for oysters as they feed by filtering it. Towards the end of the 19th century, as coastal cities grew in size and more waste was dumped in the sea, it meant big problems for seafood. Attempts to make it illegal to sell oysters from polluted beds failed, and they were blamed for diseases and outbreaks of diseases such as typhoid. By the start of the First World War, the oyster trade in England had dropped by 75 per cent.

Since then they haven't been everyday food, and most of us are so out of the habit of eating them that we have no idea how to open them, and may even have an irrational fear of oysters. There's nothing to be afraid of: they are reared in clean, government-tested water before they reach wholesalers, and should come with a health certificate indicating their source. Perhaps oysters take the rap for our other excesses. My first such experience was in college days when we went on an annual wine tour to France. We found ourselves sitting in a café in Marseilles knocking back muscadet and oysters like they were going out of fashion. I suffered for days afterwards, but in all honesty I couldn't really blame the seafood.

Our native season officially starts in September and the following months with an "R" in them (though September can still be a bit hit and miss). Until the water is colder oysters are still broody, releasing the larvae which makes them milky and – in my experience, though not everyone agrees – unpleasant to eat. Now is the best time to start enjoying them.

Opening oysters is not as tricky as it first appears. Beginners should buy an oyster knife with a guard, and even then expect a few cuts in the course of developing the technique. Before you start, grab a cloth or tea towel and fold it a couple of times. Lay the oyster in the cloth on an even surface with the flatter half of the shell upwards and the pointed hinge facing towards you. Hold the oyster down with the cloth and fold some of the cloth back over your hand, just in case the knife slips.

Force the point of the oyster knife into the hinge of the shell, carefully work the knife into the shell moving it from side to side until you feel the shell loosen. It will take a bit of force. Keep the knife in the shell, twisting it a little and run it along the top of the flat shell until you feel the muscle which joins the oyster to the shell. Sever this and you are done. Just lift off and chuck out the flat shell, leaving the meat intact on the curved shell; pick out any smithereens of shell left on the flesh. Don't pour away the natural juices.

You can loosen the flesh from the curved shell for your guests and flip it over or let them do it themselves. I prefer the latter. Serve them on seaweed or crushed ice with shallot vinegar, lemon or Tabasco. For mail order I'd recommend Cuan Oysters (www.cuanoysters.com) who deliver overnight from Northern Ireland.