One of life’s great pleasures is a plate of perfectly plump oysters at your favorite oyster bar. Everyone has their go-to—mine is the 121-year-old institution that is Swan Oyster Depot in San Francisco. I’ll happily stand in the inevitably long line for a dozen briny bivalves artfully arranged in a perfect circle, clean and pristine, expertly shucked so that there is no shell debris in sight. But the real joy starts the moment I take a seat at the crowded marble counter and place my order—a dozen per person is the proper amount.
I wait in anticipation as my oysters are carefully cracked open in the back, eagerly sipping a beer (or Champagne or Chablis, depending on the mood). And then they finally arrive. I quickly marvel at nature’s beauty and slurp the first one down—it’s like an ice-cold oceanic blast. The endorphins hit quick. Before I know it, I’m on to the next—good thing I have eleven more to go.
If this sounds like your favorite old-school oyster-bar experience, that’s exactly what Swan represents. It’s like the West Coast equivalent of Grand Central Oyster Bar for New Yorkers—tried and true, quality and consistent. But not every oyster bar needs to be more than a century old to be special. A slew of new oyster bars have opened in the past few years that are inviting first-rate co*cktails and chef-driven accompaniments to the party.
Take Fives in New Orleans, for example. Located in the heart of the French Quarter, it has a top-notch co*cktail program by bar manager James O’Donnell (previously of the Four Seasons) with a strong emphasis on martini variations (the co*cktail of choice when it comes to pairing with oysters) as well as NOLA classics—the creamy rim of his Ramos Gin Fizz will balance a straw perfectly perpendicularly with ease.
Baked Gulf oysters at Little’s Oyster Bar.
Or consider Little’s Oyster Bar in Houston, where chef Jason Ryczek brings a little bit of California flair and globally inspired fare to Texas from his previous life cooking at seafood-centric spots in the Bay Area. Crispy-skinned seared redfish comes with an herby, buttery Castelvetrano olive salsa verde, and a side of eggplant fried and infused with fragrant fish sauce and finished with a flourish of fresh herbs is a requisite to go with your oysters on the half shell.
Now, I’ve eaten my fair share of oysters across America, and I’m convinced the best ones in the country come from the Pacific Northwest. Specifically Kumamotos.
I’ll never forget the day I was forever ruined: I was in Bellingham, a small coastal city an hour and a half due north of Seattle, at Taylor Shellfish Farms’ Samish Oyster Bar for a perfect pre-dinner snack.
This isn’t your conventional old-school oyster bar by any means—it’s located down a winding hill at the edge of the bay. You place your order with the cashier, then grab a seat outside and stare out at the water, watching boats slowly head to the dock to unload crate after crate of the day’s haul. This is as fresh as it gets, oyster farm to waterfront wooden table.
Kumamotos might be my favorite oysters in the world—these tiny, briny bivalves are native to Japan and were brought to the U.S. in the 1940s. I love their small size and deep cups, and I appreciate that they’re not overly salty and have a sort of sweet, melon-y finish. Swan Oyster Depot sources its kumies (as they’re sometimes known) from here. If they sell out, which sometimes happens, get the Sumo Kumos. These oysters are exactly what they sound like (large Kumamotos) and are equally awesome.
A sumo kumo from Taylor Shellfish.
My rule of thumb is to always order oysters by the dozen and select four different varieties if possible so that I get three of each type. The first one goes down naked and unadorned—I want to taste its sweet, salty liqueur, and I want to savor the ocean from whence it came. The second oyster—same variety—I spritz with just the smallest squeeze of citrus; juice from a fresh yellow lemon is the only acid I need to cut and complement any salinity.
From there, I decide which version I like more before the third one goes down the hatch. Then I move on to the next variety and repeat this process, carefully considering and comparing each oyster’s respective flavor.
I don’t need a mignonette to mask, though a great one is hard to pass up. Consider it toward the end. Horseradish? Pass. co*cktail sauce? Save those for the prawns.
A little dash of hot sauce is a maybe—sometimes I like to change it up a bit with a little heat, but that’s as far as I’ll go.
There are plenty of places across America that aren’t on the water where I down beautiful bivalves to my heart’s content. From the old-school seafood counters and train-station institutions mentioned above to newly opened, regionally inspired bars serving up serious co*cktails, here are some of my favorite ones throughout the nation.
Casamentos.
Casamento’s Restaurant
New Orleans
We will almost always take raw oysters over cooked. The one exception to this rule: the chargrilled ones coming from Casamento’s, the charming, old-school seafood-centric spot on Magazine Street in New Orleans. Opened in 1919, the restaurant douses its oysters in butter, garlic, and Parmesan and grills them until bubbly and melty. Squeeze with a touch of lemon to cut through all the richness, and mop up the sauce with the accompanying pieces of toasted white bread.
Fives.
Fives
New Orleans
If you’re not paying attention, it’s easy to miss Fives, the handsome oyster and co*cktail bar tucked away in Jackson Square in the French Quarter, just a stone’s throw away from the famed, touristy-but-worth-it Café Du Monde. When you enter, however, you know you’re in the right place. It’s all a little bit ironic: This NOLA oyster bar was inspired by the wonderful Maison Premier, a Brooklyn-based oyster bar that was inspired by a New Orleans oyster bar—but we’re very here for it. East Coast and Gulf oysters reign supreme.
Grand Central Oyster Bar.
Grand Central Oyster Bar
New York
Located at the bottom level of Grand Central Terminal, Grand Central Oyster Bar is a vibe. The vaulted tiled ceilings. The brown-leather seats. The blue board listing the oysters of the day. We could go on and on. We love to snag a seat at the bar at this 111-year-old institution.
Little’s Oyster Bar.
Little’s Oyster Bar
Houston
Little’s Oyster Bar happens to be home to one of our Best Martinis in America, which is convenient because that’s our favorite drink to pair with oysters. And the bivalves here are beautiful—clean and pristine, so expertly shucked that there’s no dirt or debris in sight, no punctured bellies or spilled precious oceanic liqueur. But there’s so much more to explore on the menu from chef Jason Ryczek, who brings a little bit of California flair to Houston, having spent time cooking at seafood-centric spots in the Bay Area.
The Ordinary.
The Ordinary
Charleston
The Ordinary isn’t your ordinary oyster spot—it’s not an oyster house or an oyster bar but rather an oyster “hall.” The giant two-storied space on King Street comes from James Beard Award–winning chef Mike Lata of FIG fame. Grab martini service and throw in a caviar bump—it comes with a healthy amount of the tiny, salty dark fish eggs on top of an oyster shell. Then move on to the raw-bar portion of the menu—go ahead and add some stone-claw crabs and a couple clams to the mix, because why not?
Oyster House.
Oyster House
Philadelphia
It’s not all cheesesteaks and hoagies in the City of Brotherly Love. To get your fix of beautiful bivalves, beeline it to the almost-fifty-year-old Oyster House on Sansom Street. Two dollars for happy-hour oysters—a small price to pay for happiness. Pair them with a martini, or consider the wine route and go for Champagne or Chablis. (Or, better yet, do all three.)
Queen St.
Queen St.
Los Angeles
From the folks who brought you Found Oyster—an East Coast seafood shack in East Hollywood and a member of Esquire’s Best New Restaurants class of 2020—comes Queen St., a Charleston-inspired raw bar. (Chef Ari Kolender grew up in South Carolina.) Grab a seat at the horseshoe bar, prop your elbows on top of the marble counter, and go “Royale” on the oysters. (This adds caviar, crème fraîche, and a splash of vodka to the party.) Other additions worth considering: uni and trout roe for your hush puppies, and anything from the wood grill to make a meal out of it.
A Sumo Kumamoto.
Samish Oyster Bar at Taylor Shellfish Farms
Bow, Washington
Taylor Shellfish Farms is no novice to the game—the family has been farming oysters in Puget Sound since 1890. They supply restaurants all around and have a few of their own oyster-bar locations scattered throughout Seattle proper. But if you can make the trek to Skagit County and hit the Samish Bay location, it doesn’t get any better than eating oysters on the octagonally shaped blue wooden benches overlooking the water. This is a special experience.
St. Roch.
St. Roch
Raleigh
James Beard Foundation nominee for Best Chef, Sunny Gerhart grew up in the St. Roch neighborhood of New Orleans before coming to Raleigh. He helped open the famed Poole’s Diner in 2007 alongside his mentor chef, Ashley Christensen, and a few years later, he struck out on his own, opening a seafood-centric restaurant, oyster bar, and ode to his roots: St. Roch Fine Oysters + Bar. Sit at said bar, nab the seats closest to the oyster-shucking station, and watch how the pros do it. The oysters come with fried saltines for snacking on the side; this will make you question why all saltines don’t come golden, brown, and delicious by default.
Swan Oyster Depot.
Swan Oyster Depot
San Francisco
Last year, a new crop of oyster bars opened in San Francisco, like Popi’s Oysterette in the Marina and Little Shucker in Pacific Heights. But it’s the century-plus-year-old seafood counter and institution that is Swan Oyster Depot that forever holds our hearts. It was the first stop Anthony Bourdain always made when he rolled through town, and it’s the place we’d go for our last meal. (The cramped counter with the sassy Sancimino family behind it is a whole vibe.) Check out the secret menu and order things beyond what’s written on the wall.
