Shuck, slurp, repeat: Exploring Nova Scotia’s oyster trail | Canada Voices

Philip Docker leans over the bow of his wooden rowboat and carefully plucks an oyster from the cool, brackish water. It’s midafternoon on Big Island, a timeless speck of land on Nova Scotia’s north shore where it somehow feels hard to remember what decade it is.

Flushed daily by the ocean tides and warmed by the sun, this estuary is the perfect place for growing oysters, those delicate sea mollusks whose flavour can vary from bay to bay. Docker calls this effect “merroir,” in the same way a farm’s unique terroir can have an impact on the taste of wine, cheese, coffee, even single-malt whisky.

Back on shore, Docker is shucking the oysters skillfully with a knife and bare hands. It’s here, standing on a beach with a conspicuous absence of lemon slices, hot sauce, mignonette or horseradish, I learn that I’ve been eating oysters wrong all these years. Fresh from the sea, they’re simply delicious on their own – a well-balanced salty brine, full of meat and a buttery finish.

“I prefer them naked. It took me four years to grow this, I’m not covering it up with anything,” said Docker, whose family has been harvesting oysters in these waters since 1918.

My girlfriend and I had come to Nova Scotia with a simple plan – eat as many oysters as we could and learn about how these hard-shelled delicacies are grown. Over three days, we slurped, chewed and sipped untold dozens of them, either raw, fried, baked or brewed into beer. And now we’d had them in about the freshest way possible. Docker’s farm, ShanDaph Oysters, no longer offers tours, but their oysters can be enjoyed at restaurants around the province and for purchase from Afishionado Fishmongers in Bedford.

Nova Scotia is home to some of the oldest oysters farms in Canada. An hour down the Northumberland coast from Docker’s place, cars are winding up the dirt laneway to the shop at Charles Purdy’s farm in Malagash Bay. Purdy, at 75, is something of an elder statesman in the industry. His ancestors began harvesting oysters from this bay in the 1860s.

Malagash Bay oysters are mildly sweet, earthy, almost vegetal beauties preferred by high-end establishments such as Fox Harb’r Resort. You can walk into the farm’s retail shop and pick up a dozen for yourself, for as little as 60 cents apiece. Inside, you’ll see the bubbling algae tanks where they’re cultivating the next generation of juvenile oysters. Outside, it feels like oyster heaven, with a friendly dog tied up to a fishing boat and a row of apple trees lining the sheltered bay.

“This is the birthplace of oyster farming in Nova Scotia,” says Purdy, sweeping his arm toward a shellfish harvester floating on a barge nearby. “This harbour is perfectly suited for growing oysters.”

Inside his shop, Purdy shows us how to tell the age of an oyster by counting the ridges on its shell, much like the rings on a tree. Nova Scotia’s oysters are some of slowest growing in the world because of the province’s cold water. It can take up to five years for an oyster here to reach market size, something that a Louisiana-grown oyster can do in six months. But the reward is a meatier, more full-flavoured oyster that has a better shelf life and a heartier shell.

“Oyster growers here have to have that passion, because they’re in it for the long haul,” said Cora Tudor, co-owner of EDNA, a downtown Halifax bistro that serves some of the best fried oysters I’ve ever had. “They’re special because these things take so long to grow.”

Oysters were once the meal of the poor. Today, they’re considered a luxury food, more associated with Champagne and special celebrations. But Nova Scotia’s oyster industry remains as unpretentious as they come. Most of the oyster growers here are still small, family-run operations open seasonally to visitors with rustic shops for takeaway orders.

Some, like Sober Island Oysters near Sheet Harbour, offer farm tours from July to October. Trevor and Michelle Munroe have built a charming business where for $125 each, visitors can enjoy oysters fried into po’ boys, baked, raw or Rockefeller, go for a boat ride to see the oyster cages or relax inside a cabin or on one of the sundecks overlooking the sheltered bay. It’s a laid-back, bring-your-own-drinks kind of place, one that has survived two devastating hurricanes and hopes to be growing half a million oysters a year soon.

Sheet Harbour is a long way from Halifax (about an hour and 45-minute drive), so be sure to call ahead to book. On your way out of town, you can stop at the Sober Island Brewing and try a pint of their oyster stout, brewed with real oysters, shells and all. Brewer Tim MacLeod won’t tell me how many oysters he puts in the recipe, but it’s enough to give the beer just the slightest hint of minerality and salt on the back end.

Sober Island’s oysters grow in brackish water, where the salty, cold North Atlantic mixes with a freshwater estuary, creating a buttery, fatty oyster that has less salinity than other local versions. They’re worth the drive.

“They’re the best I’ve had on the planet,” declares Bryan Corkery, executive chef at the Press Gang, who figures he’s shucked close to a million of the things in his lifetime. “And I’ve had a lot of oysters.”

His Halifax restaurant gets 400 delivered fresh every day, from farms around Atlantic Canada. He prefers slower-growing oysters, which often have a saltier brine or what he calls that “ocean punch in your mouth.”

The Press Gang, housed in the second-oldest building in Halifax, is infused with history. Built in 1759, its stone walls came from the rubble of Fortress of Louisbourg and from the ballast of ships used by settlers who crossed the Atlantic. And it’s pretty certain the granite door beam was cracked in the Halifax Explosion. You can savour all that history while slurping back $1.50 oysters during their daily happy hour.

Neil Daoust, bartender at Barrington Steakhouse & Oyster Bar a few blocks away, suggests starting with milder, less salty varieties before building up to the briniest options. And forget the old rules about pairing oysters with Champagne. Saltier Atlantic Canadian oysters often go better with a Spanish Cava or a dry cider, he told me. Some even match their oysters with scotch, splashing the shell with whisky after they’ve downed the meat.

A good oyster restaurant can always tell you when the oysters came in and takes care in their presentation. Shucking an oyster is an art – it shouldn’t look “like a dog got at it,” and should keep as much of the natural brine in the lower shell, or “cup,” as possible, he said.

One of the best deals for oysters in Halifax is the buck-a-shuck promotion at Eliot & Vine, a European-style bistro that features meaty ShanDaph oysters with their house-made mignonette and hot sauce. Owner Johanna Eliot, who runs a TV production company upstairs, has turned the former clothing store into a welcoming restaurant known for its cocktails and extensive wine list.

The best sauce we tried was the Caesar mignonette at 5 Fishermen, a vodka-based Canadian twist on the classic oyster sauce. Pairing local oysters with a wine list that celebrates the province’s wineries, there’s a reason why 5 Fishermen has outlasted every other seafood restaurant in town. Chef Gabriel Uggenti also elevates fried oysters with dill-infused crème fraîche and lemongrass gel, and makes a roasted halibut that you’d sell your first-born child for.

But the most captivating dish Uggenti served was the one that came unadorned, freshly shucked and on the half shell. I reached for the sauce and lemon but remembered Docker‘s words and stopped. I closed my eyes, thought about the sea and slurped it down.

IF YOU GO

Moxy Halifax Downtown recently opened on Cogswell Street. The Marriott property combines an unfussy modern hotel with lounge bar vibes. The elevators play thumping dance music in the evening and it’s aimed at a younger crowd. Rooms from $210. marriott.com

The biggest selection of oysters in Halifax can be found at the Waterfront Warehouse, which carries at least a dozen different varieties daily. It’s a massive building with a large patio and an equally large menu, offering up all the seafood favourites from chowder and fish ‘n’ chips to lobster rolls and bacon-wrapped Digby scallops.

The writer’s Halifax hotel and rental car were provided by Tourism Nova Scotia. It did not review or approve the story.