How to Throw an Oyster Roast

Photograph by Colby Deal

Low tide on Palm Island, a half-acre private marsh off Charleston, South Carolina’s southernmost tip, holds an ethereal air just before sunset. Estuary life stirs behind the sprawling spartina grass, all burnished with an auburn glow. By winter, August’s humid cloak is long gone, freeing up temperate breezes that whirl in from the cooling waters of the Atlantic—a time locals know in their bones as oyster season.

James London, chef and co-owner of Charleston’s Chubby Fish, grew up relishing in the region’s distinct culinary traditions. From October through May, oysters that have matured throughout the summer months are ready to harvest. The Lowcountry, stretching along the Palmetto State’s coastline, hosts an abundant population of wild oysters, which grow in clusters along coastal waterways and marshlines. These are unlike their farm-raised counterparts, which feature smoother shells, deep cups, and are served raw over ice. Wilds are best eaten piping hot, not inside a restaurant but en plein air, at an oyster roast.

The practice of cooking oysters over open fire belongs to a far greater, ancient tradition. Shell rings, archaeological sites scattered with mollusk shells, remain across the Southeast, suggesting that people have gathered to share meals like this for centuries. These days, folks convene beside a propane stove and steam bivalves by the pot. At festivals and dockside bars, some stick to more rustic means: firewood, flames, a wide metal sheet; sea-soaked burlap sacks; and a shovel for transporting each steaming batch to newspaper-clad tabletops. London enjoyed a similar set up throughout his childhood, when his father would prop an old car hood atop cinder blocks for their weekly roasts in the backyard. These were formative moments for London, the sensory details enshrined into memory. “When you steam wild oysters you’re concentrating flavor, creating a broth inside the shell, just as you would roast bones for a browned chicken jus,” he says. “The richness and developed flavor that’s coming from the oyster shells releases minerals and transfers onto the flesh of the oyster.”

A roast, however, is more than the food itself, but rather an experience meant to be shared. On this particular late afternoon, London and his partner in life and work Yoanna Tang have assembled their staff out on Palm Island for a meal they won’t likely soon forget. After a short boat ride, guests dispersed to admire dolphins rollicking in the marsh’s winding waterways. It’s a rare reprieve. Now in its sixth year, Chubby Fish garners a three-hour wait, even on weekdays (spawning a cottage industry of paid line-waiters). By the end of 2024, London and Tang will open Seahorse next-door—a cocktail bar with a menu, like its sister restaurant, inspired by coastal flavors from around the world.

They’re off the clock today, but the couple inhabit their usual roles: London focused at the stove, Tang chattier, wrangling guests and prepping the deck for dinner—a dynamic that suits their temperaments and has contributed to Chubby Fish’s meteoric ascent. Anchoring their success is a reverence for Charleston’s plentitude of natural resources: a wealth in fish and seafood they obtain strictly through sustainable fishermen and purveyors. Connecting the land, water, and food to diners is part of what makes Chubby Fish work. They extend the same ethos to their staff, a few of whom have never partaken in a proper roast. “It's always really wonderful to be able to share this with someone who's never gotten the full experience before,” London says.

Soon the table is full and by the third oyster pot, every guest is a pro at prying open the rugged shells, their varying condiment preferences claimed. Once the sun sets, the full picture clicks into place. What you’re tasting isn’t merely sea or brine; that influence changes day to day, depending on the salinity and temperature of the water. When you're there, looking out at the tide pulled back, the oyster beds hemming the marshline, “there’s no better way to get a sense of time and place,” says London.

As is their dynamic, Tang is more matter-of-fact, ever mindful of the human dynamics. Oyster roasts are communal. “There’s something about eating together and getting your hands dirty,” she says. “Even if you’re sitting next to a stranger, by the end of the night, you feel like best friends.” Although for London, it all comes back to the oyster: “It tastes like the beautiful essence of the Lowcountry. If you close your eyes, it’s the perfect bite.”

A Guide to Your Very Own Oyster Roast

Recycle Your Shells

“If you want to fully appreciate oysters, you gotta put the shells back!” says Tom Bierce, owner of Charleston Oyster Farm. In 2001, The South Carolina Department of Natural Resources (SCDNR) initiated an oyster shell recycling program, the first of its kind in the country. Shells that are collected and replanted into the wild help create more oyster reefs, in turn fortifying the Lowcountry’s shorelines and ecosystems. Without oyster reefs, “this whole area would look completely different,” Bierce says.

According to SCDNR, wild oyster populations are down nationwide 90 percent from historical levels, though the Palmetto state retains one of the healthiest in the country. So if you’re buying bushels, return the shells at your designated recycling drop-off location. (Search online for your local recycling program, as they exist nationwide.)

Get Roasting

Here's what you'll need to throw your own alfresco feast. And don’t worry: there’s no shucking required.

To cook

• Wild oysters, prewashed, sold by the 40-lb. bushel (one bushel is enough to feed about six hungry people)

• A propane stove

• A 60-qt. pot or larger with steam basket

• Oyster knives (one per person)

• Rags or kitchen towels (because the oyster shells are sharp! And eating with your hands can get messy)

• A large protected surface, such as a table covered with old newspapers or cloth

• Saltine crackers, lemon wedges, hot sauce, and cocktail sauce (for serving)

To enjoy

• A propane stove

• A 60-qt. pot or larger with steam basket

• Oyster knives (one per person)

• Rags or kitchen towels (because the oyster shells are sharp! And eating with your hands can get messy)

• A large protected surface, such as a table covered with old newspapers or cloth

• Saltine crackers, lemon wedges, hot sauce, and cocktail sauce (for serving)

Place a steamer basket in a large pot and pour in water to come to the bottom of basket. Bring to a boil, then arrange oysters in basket and cover pot. Cook until half of the oysters have opened. Remove steamer from pot and turn out oysters onto table.

Guests should use the rags/towels to hold the oysters (they’re hot and sometimes sharp). Since the bivalves have already steamed open, “the hard work is already knocked out,” says Longon. The knife should slide in and pry open the shell easily. Top each morsel with your sauces of choice.

A note on pea crabs: You might spy a few stowaways in your steamed oysters. These are diminutive soft-bodied crustaceans that live in an oyster’s gills. They’re harmless and a sign of a healthy oyster population. Some consider them good luck! Bierce recommends knocking them back with the rest of your bounty: “Think of it as a bonus crab. They just add a little crunch.”

Originally Appeared on Bon Appétit