Describe This

Saturday was the anniversary of September 11th, it being of course, September 11th. But it was also my wedding anniversary. We have had it slightly longer than the terrorists, it being our 5th (note the lack of a superscript "th" when writing in HTML).

On the actual wedding day, we spent a night in the California Central valley, near my Mother-in-Law's house, which was the site of our wedding, and then drove down to Pacific Grove, in between Monterey and Carmel, where we had a very pleasant honeymoon in a quaint cottage by the sea, and ate much seafood in and around Pacific Grove.

On our second anniversary, memory fails me as to what we did, but it would not surprise me if it was the same as we did in subsequent years. On our third anniversary, it was the 9-11 that the rest of you memorialize and I remember that evening quite distinctly. We went ahead with our plans to go out to dinner at San Jose's Fish Market restaurant, where we sat in the large dining hall with one or two other silent couples. We ate our food and spoke in hushed tones, feeling that it was inappropriate to celebrate our wedding while the rest of the country mourned.

Since then we have returned each of the last 3 years to the Fish Market, and each year it has been progressively more celebratory. 9-11 remaining ever present, but the wife and I taking back the day, bit by bit.

So last Saturday we sat in the usual surroundings, not thinking for the moment about destruction and terrorists. I sipped a decent Sauvignon Blanc (Geyser Creek), the wife savoring her usual diet Coke. The Fish Market features an Oyster Bar and I thought at 45 years of age it was perhaps time I tried a raw oyster.

The wife is less adventuresome than I so I tackled a whole dish of miyagis on my own as an appetizer. After asking instructions of the waiter, I doctored the shimmering shellfish with lemon juice, horseradish and cocktail sauce. I then slurped up my first raw oyster. First impression was that the flavor was actually quite pleasant, but the texture was all I thought it might be. Most likely this delight will join escargot on the list of things I have no regrets having tried but am unlikely to order again.

Try as I might I couldn't get the wife to try one. But the capper was when she asked me to describe the texture. The only thing that came to mind was that it was reminiscent of snot. After that I gave up trying to convince her.