Louisiana Is Oyster Land

Yes, dear Reader, it's true. 

I love Maine, and I love the oysters that we grow here. Ditto for shellfish grown in the Canadian Provinces, and lots of other states, too. 

That said, Louisiana might just be the Oyster Mecca of the United Shellfish of America.

A couple of months ago, I got a nice education about the Louisiana oyster industry; where it's been and where it's headed.  I'd been invited to participate in the LA Oystermen's Convention, and my host and subsequent guide was Dr. John Supan, of the LSU Ag Center and LA Sea Grant.  'Sup' took me around west and south of New Orleans, out to Grand Isle. It's a mythic region - the souther you go, the waterier it gets. It's a gradual transition where land and water travel hand in hand for a while, but then their arms straighten as they pull apart and get ready to go their separate ways…pretty soon they are only touching fingertips, and you're in a place where the shore is standing there waving 'Aloha' and the Gulf is waving too but saying "Hello" and "Welcome Home."  

Here's a shot from a bridge headed out to Grand Isle....and there's a lot more where this came from

Miles like this, with the road and bayou side by each: easy to guess at the scope of the fishing industry here, and to see the remains of a turbulent recent past.

So yeah, it's watery there, and the people who have lived there for all these generations have a deep knowledge: shifting channels, floating islands….and oysters. These men and women know oysters the way the Inuit know snow and ice. 

John introduced me to Levi Collins, who's been working the waters his whole life, and for generations before him - the Collins operation is in Golden Meadow, LA.  Even though I think Levi was pretty suspicious of me to start with, he opened up a bit when we started talking oysters, and you could tell that he has a lot of passion for his work and way of life.  John and I bought a small sack of oysters - oysters are sold in the full and half sack down there - and then John and I got a look at a Collins company oyster boat - an 'oyster lugger.'  The southern approach uses bottom planting and spat collection: clean shell is laid down in nursery beds, and then picked up and transplanted to growout sites, hopefully with a good load of oyster spat attached.  Oyster luggers are rigged to move all that shellstock efficiently, and I have to say, these rigs have style, not to mention equipment for dual dredges and a water cannon to move shell off the deck.  I could picture the boat making its way through the bayous and bays of southern Louisiana, birds in the cypress and gators in the water.  Some day, I'd not mind in the least being a deckhand and seeing how that all plays out in real life.  For another day, I guess.

Levi was good enough to let John snap a photo of us together. He grows a fine oyster...

I didn't take any good photos of the boat in total, but here's John, showing the chips on the wheelhouse paint, indicating the depth to which shell gets piled; for shelling the seed grounds, moving to growing beds, etc.

When we got to Grand Isle, the site of the hatchery that John operates, we also got a look at the small farm site just outside.  They have a small installation of adjustable longline gear there, and some examples of the new gear on the block - floating/submersible cages. There are currently two main versions of this gear, the Oyster Gro (See earlier posts for Rheal Savoie and his invention), and the Oyster Ranch. Both work on the same principle, and they are becoming increasingly popular - because it's a good approach.  Anyway - as I saw the longline system, and thought about all the water down there and the local knowledge of all things fishing, I can see that Louisiana is poised to get into the halfshell trade, and in a big way.

While much of their current production does go on to the halfshell market, much of it goes to shucked product too.  New potential growers are eyeballing suspension culture as a way to produce an oyster of predictable shape, somewhat faster growing period, and to control predation and therefore make production more predictable too. This has all kinds of benefits in the marketing and financing end.  Anyway, I got the sense that the potential down there is huge, which could certainly have market implications for all of us others who live in oyster-producing states.

That said, there is an another, unmistakable contribution that the state of Louisiana is already making, and which has positive impacts in our own market potential.  Simply: People In Louisiana Know How To Eat Oysters. Fried oysters. Chargrilled oysters. Oyster stew. Oysters as a picnic/football game/get-together sort of food. Oyster Po-Boys. Pickled oysters…..and the list goes on and on.

Up here in the Northeast, we just don't yet have the hang of the fully-diversified oyster menu (although we're getting there) and we need to do it. 

This main point post comes mostly from two cases, both from my visit. First: remember that sack of oysters that John and I bought from Levi Collins?  Well, they were eaten out of the back of John's truck, in the yard of his place on Grand Isle.  A couple of beers, some lemons, and a box of Saltines, and we were in oyster heaven.  Now, not many people in New England would consider oysters as (literally) a tailgate item - but a tailgate item they most certainly are.  We sat around and talked shop, told lies about fishing, and had a grand old Grand Isle time.  It didn't hurt that we were joined by Capt. Jules Melancon, who's many generations into the oystering business himself and now starting to grow oysters after the modern fashion.  He shared some of his own knowledge and it made the afternoon all the richer.  So boys and girls - think about growing oysters that people in New England can get at a price affordable enough to buy a bushel of 'em, and then we need to market the good time that a backyard oyster shuck really is.

Part of the carnage.....man, was that a good way to eat a mess of oysters!!

The Subject in Question.

Second story: Over the years, I've been very fortunate to have been befriended by Albert "Rusty" Gaude, a fellow Sea Grant extension agent who's territory covers some of the most southern of Louisiana's parishes.  He's an acknowledged expert in the culture of crawfish incidentally, but he's dealt with a lot of shellfish issues over the years too, and he just happens to be a really nice guy.  Anyway, he and his wife Ros were kind enough to take me to Superior Seafood, on St. Charles Ave. in NOLA.  On the list were char-grilled oysters: these are oysters still in a shell, covered with Romano and Parmesan cheeses, some butter and garlic and something else herb-ish in there (oregano?), and then set on an open flame.

This is a poor shot, but let me assure you - these were ridiculously tasty. Where is the nearest shop to get 'em up this way??

Boys and Girls  - I don't know if you've ever had these before, but I'm guessing my personal ingestion limit of these beauties lies somewhere between three and four dozen.  Absolute heaven.  More to the point however, they are a perfect bar food (easy to eat, great with beer, kinda salty), and they are great outlets for those oysters that might have a snaggly shape, overlarge, or otherwise not totally suited to the black-tie, finely-mignionetted halfshell oyster. 

What a great trip it was.  Louisiana has always been an oyster powerhouse, and is now poised to do so in a different arena of the shellfish world, but they have so much to teach us about how we view oysters as food.  I'm grateful to John and Rusty, and am eager for more research. 

Pass the crackers and an Abita.

More scallop goodness

There are more scallops in the water, over two other sites!  Marsden Brewer - long a leader in spat collecting, stock enhancement, and attempts to get a smoother permitting system - is now squared away with a site off his home port of Stonington.  Also, in a collaboration between fishing and farming, Evan Young (Blue Hill Bay Mussels) and Andy Mays (F/V Lost Airmen) have got some of the spat that Andy caught in the Blue Hill Salt Pond, where Evan has part of his shellfish operation. Bravo! to all involved.  It's been really nice, and an interesting process, to get the views from both the commercial fishermen and the aquaculturists; these groups of course do not always agree, but when starting from the grass roots, it sure seems like there are ways to make this process of integration move forward with a minimum of intrusion to either. 

So, temp data loggers are in place, juveniles are in cages and presumably growing happily, and now it's a bit of wait-and-see until later in the summer, when we will hopefully get to start thinking about biotoxin testing.  If all goes well, this project will run at least through the end of next year, when some of the scallops ought to be ready to get the once over by chefs and the like - assuming that our biotoxin testing reveals levels within regulatory bounds. 

Marsden Brewer, F/V Lindsay Marie, hauling one of the scallop cages for inspection. Eventually, either a different cage or more probably a mast-and-boom arrangement will be needed, but for now, he can service the gear with the pot hauler and a little extra help (thanks Bob!)

Andy Mays (left) and Evan Young - not a great shot, but here we are on the edge of the salt pond, transferring juveniles from spat collectors into the nursery cages. 

Andy Mays, a longtime lobsterman and scallop diver - and now a proven whiz at fishing for scallop spat - with some of the beauties he's caught.

Before too long, I hope to post the results of a media visit that happened a couple of weeks ago, which covered a range of topics from scallop aquaculture specifically, to the integration of fishing and farming.  More to follow on that account, but for now it's comforting to know that the little scallops are becoming bigger scallops, and that we've got this process moving.