Shuck open an oyster, and you’re getting a literal taste of the sand and water and vegetation and everything else that shifts around the Gulf of Mexico. You may love or hate that fact, but you can’t deny that it’s pretty damn interesting—whether you like to slurp ‘em raw or not—and that’s one of the many reasons they tend to get a lot of attention.

Well, they get a lot of attention from those of us who live near the coast. Believe it or not, there are more than a few Texans who don’t live near saltwater, don’t think about saltwater, and certainly don’t shuck oysters on the regular. My opinion? They should, but it can be intimidating when some sea-dweller tells a cowboy from Fort Davis to wedge a dull knife into this shell, pry it open, and slurp down the contents while it’s still technically alive. Let’s face it, it’s weird.

This article, in a way, is a sales pitch for oysters. It’s intended for anyone who doesn’t know where to start, or who has tried and failed to fall in love with these little morsels. I know I won’t convert all Texans, but I bet we can bring a few into the fold. Let’s get crackin’.

Pearls of the Gulf

Around these parts, we’re generally concerned about one type of oyster—the eastern oyster—which is pretty much the only edible species in our waters. Despite what the title of this section may imply, they don’t produce gem-grade pearls, but they sure as hell produce gem-grade food fare and they’re harvested by the ton every year by commercial oyster operations to feed hungry Texans.

This harvest has created some issues for oysters. I’m not writing a conservation piece, but overharvesting and other environmental factors have led to population decreases across the board—along with the regulations that come with those issues. They’re stable, but it takes constant work from multiple agencies to ensure it stays that way.

This matters. A lot. Oysters are what’s called a “keystone species,” upon which an entire ecosystem depends upon their survival. First, oysters are filter feeders, able to filter massive amounts of water on a daily basis (as for how much, I’ve seen numbers ranging from five to 50 gallons a day—either way, it’s a lot) which clarifies sediment and allows sunlight to reach different underwater vegetation. And, as many anglers know, they create oyster beds and reefs, which are critical underwater habitats for numerous fish and crustacean species. This quote from Shane Bonnot at the Coastal Conservation Association (CCA) puts it nicely:

Oyster reefs are much more than a source of seafood; they are a critical component of Texas’ coastal ecosystems. These reefs act as natural barriers, slowing water surges and helping to prevent shoreline erosion. They also provide structured habitats for a wide variety of marine species. More than 300 species rely on oyster reefs for shelter, food, and habitat, including commercially and recreationally valuable fish like blue crabs, sheepshead, red drum, and spotted seatrout.

We’ll get to why I’m covering this in a culinary-centric article but, in the meantime, just know that whether you like to eat them or not, the eastern oyster needs to thrive. Now, let’s move on to the meat of this topic.

It Pays to Be Picky

When it comes to eating oysters, freshness is everything. Think about it—an oyster purist is going to shuck the shell open and eat it. That’s it. There’s no seasoning or cooking, which means the one and only ingredient needs to carry 100% of the weight for flavor and texture. Don’t skimp on freshness.

First things first, you need to know where to get them. There is a season for public harvest of oysters (November–April), but that’s not what this article is about. If you’re interested in the DIY approach, definitely read all of the regulations and become intimately familiar with the types of oysters you should be harvesting. You can learn more on the Texas Parks & Wildlife website.

Outside of self-harvesting, you’ll need to buy oysters from a reputable market, oyster farm, or at a restaurant. There are far too many to list here, but just do your due diligence to ensure the outlet is reputable—trust me, subpar operations don’t last long in the oyster world. If you want to go the extra mile you can even check the Interstate Certified Shellfish Shippers List (say that five times fast) on the FDA’s website, but it’s not necessary. I’m sure most of us know an oyster enthusiast or two, and a personal recommendation says a lot.

Once you’ve chosen your outlet and have the oysters in-hand, the next step is to check for freshness. Ideally, oysters will be kept cold from the moment they’re taken out of the water until they hit your plate. They can live for up to two weeks if preserved correctly. Here’s a checklist of what to look for:

• Is the oyster cold? If so, continue. If not, grab a burger.
• The shell of the oyster should be closed. Or, if it’s slightly open, tap the shell and then it should close (if they’re very cold, you may need to let them warm up for a minute). If the shell is open and stays open, they’re dead and shouldn’t be eaten raw.
• Once the shell is open (we’ll cover shucking in a minute), the meat should be firm and plump, and the juices should be clear. If the meat looks dry or shriveled, don’t eat it raw.
• For more experienced oyster eaters, smell can be a dead giveaway too. Oysters have a strong smell regardless, but it certainly shouldn’t be unpleasant.
• If there’s any question as to their freshness, err on the safe side. You don’t have to eat oysters raw—they’re fantastic in a wide array of dishes—and as long as the meat’s been kept cold, you can cook them up.

Crack a Cold One

Now that you’ve got a cooler full of cold Texas oysters, it’s time to enjoy them. If you’re at a restaurant, I shouldn’t have to tell you what to do (other than to tip your waiter), but if you’re sitting in your backyard staring at a bunch of shells, there’s no need to be intimidated.

First things first, you’ll need an oyster knife. I’m sure plenty of folks make do with what they have, but using a normal knife is dangerous for you and a quick way to ruin a perfectly good oyster. It doesn’t need to be fancy; just get one. Oyster knives are short, have a wide handle, dull sides, and a fairly sharp tip—and can make quick, safe work out of a whole heap of shells.

Shucking oysters is not complicated, but you want to make sure you get it right. I’ll walk you through this step by step:

1. There’s a rounded side of the shell, and a flat side of the shell. You want the flat side up. Then wrap the shell in a towel with the hinge (the narrowest point) exposed—the towel will help you keep a secure grip.
2. Insert the tip of your knife into the hinge. This part’s important. You’re not going to pry the shell open, and you don’t want to cut it open. Once the tip of the knife is wedged in the hinge, move your knife side to side slowly as you push it farther. Once you get the knife in about ¼–½" into the shell, rotate the knife as if you’re turning it vertically to pop the shell open. Voila! The oyster is open.
3. NOTE: During the shucking process, some shell particles may come off of the shell—keep an eye on it, and wipe your blade if necessary. Shells aren’t pleasant to eat.
4. Most oyster knives have a curved tip. Point the curve downward and slide the knife horizontally just underneath the top shell to release the meat. Carefully remove the top shell, being careful not to spill those delicious juices, and pick out any shell debris that may have snuck in. There you have it: an oyster on the half shell. I like to turn the meat over to let it soak up the juices.

As for what to do next, that’s entirely up to you. You can slurp that oyster as-is right away, or drop some hot sauce or horseradish in there for some spice—I recommend it for oyster beginners. There are countless oyster preparations that vary wildly across our state and the country, so I’ll leave it to you to do some research. If raw oysters are still too much for you, I’d recommend battering them and frying them. Some folks may clutch their pearls at this notion (pun intended), but unlike a lot of fried foods, oysters still have that distinct oyster flavor even after they’re fried, so it can be a great way to get used to the flavor.

The goal, however, should be to eat them raw. First, it’s a fun event, much like eating crab or crawfish—it just begs for a cooler of beers and good conversations around a picnic table. And, second, it’s one of the most unique ways we can interact with our environment. I love the idea that I’m literally consuming a part of the Texas coast, or whichever waters the oysters were pulled from.

For oyster nerds, there’s a great site called In a Half Shell where you can dive into all sorts of information, and I loved the way they put this:

Most oyster growers, chefs, and scientists will tell you that these differences are shaped by the oyster’s environment: what it’s eating, the water temperature, salinity, even rainfall. Seasonality matters, too. Oysters tend to be sweeter in winter and lean more lactic or mineral-forward in summer. In the oyster world, we like to call this “merroir”—a nod to wine’s “terroir.” And just like grapes, different oyster species have their own baseline flavor profiles.

What’s not to love about that? I love pizza as much as the next guy, but you can’t tell where the tomatoes were grown based on their flavor. In a way, oysters are a microcosm of the Gulf Coast, which is why I think every Texan should at least try to like them. It may take some time. You may never become a full convert. But, once you crack that oyster open, you’ll be forced to take a stance on them regardless. For me, it was love at first slurp.