There is no pleasanter frolic for an Autumn evening, in the regions
where oysters are plentiful, than an impromptu “roast” in the kitchen.
There the oysters are hastily thrown into the fire by the peck. You may
consider that your fastidious taste is marvellously respected if they
are washed first. A bushel basket is set to receive the empty shells,
and the click of the oyster-knives forms a constant accompaniment to
the music of laughing voices. Nor are roast oysters amiss upon your
own quiet supper-table, when the “good man” comes in on a wet night,
tired and hungry, and wants “something heartening.” Wash and wipe the
shell-oysters, and lay them in the oven, if it is quick; upon the top
of the stove, if it is not. When they open, they are done. Pile in a
large dish and send to table. Remove the upper shell by a dexterous
wrench of the knife, season the oyster on the lower, with pepper-sauce
and butter, or pepper, salt, and vinegar in lieu of the sauce, and you
have the very aroma of this pearl of bivalves, pure and undefiled.
Or, you may open while raw, leaving the oysters upon the lower shells;
lay in a large baking-pan, and roast in their own liquor, adding
pepper, salt, and butter before serving.