Oysters and Ocelots

Ok, this post doesn't really have anything to do with ocelots, but I could not think of any other word that fit well with "Oysters" in the heading title, so, voila! Ocelots.
Do you know what an ocelot is? It's some sort of leopard-looking cat. It is really kind of cute. (You know, in a cuddly, I'm-about-to-bite-your-head-off kind of way.) If you are as attention deficit as I am then you can find more about it here.

But that is beside the point.
So, the other day went a little something like this...

It was wonderful! I was able to spend some Christmas bonding time with my father. And, call me biased, but I am pretty sure he is one of the best dads in the world.
After that, I laid underneath the Christmas tree for a while and looked for good camera angles and unique pictures to take... it paid off though.

By the way, I would like to introduce you to Craigly, the most amazing hipster-chick-ornament you will ever meet in your entire life: Craigly everyone.

Later that night, Grandma called and said that Granddaddy was cooking some oysters, fresh from the coast.
One thing I love about oysters is that out of our entire family on Daddy's side (and there are a lot of us), there are only about a handful of us that will eat oysters: my daddy and I, Grandma and Granddaddy, and my Uncle Barry and cousin Jacob.
Sooooo, when we have oysters, I pretty much get my grandparents to myself, which is a very rare thing with such a big family.
Also, when we have oysters, we have oysters. There is a specific way we do things around my house for oyster cooking, and I thought I would let you in on some of the Hooten family way.

First off are the fixin's and utensils. Grandma always fixes cornbread, melted butter, and her famous "ketchup sauce."

Ah, the infamous, oh so mysterious "ketchup sauce;" I'm telling you, she should bottle this stuff. I tried to figure out what was in it the last time I had it; it is sort of like a cocktail sauces, but better. I asked grandma what was in it, and she said it was a mix of ketchup, Worcestershire, and horseradish "among other things." I guess I'll save that adventure for another day.

Anyway, we always cook them in Grandaddy's shop. You walk in that rickety screen door, and the pungent smell of seawater hits you in the face. Close your eyes and you will literally feel like your at the beach.

side note: Have I mentioned how precious the men in my family are?
1.) They are all like giant teddy bears at heart.
2.) They all have hearts of gold.
3.) They love to eat!
4.) They know how to work.

Hmm, they set the bar pretty high don't you think?

But back to the oysters...

I found this little baby crab in one of my oysters! I was so excited (Obviously I don't eat oysters very often, because by the end of the meal we had collected about seven or eight baby crabs. So apparently I was not as special as I thought. Go figure.)

The Oysters served with saltine crackers, "ketchup sauce," and buttah.
Any other way? Nope. We, my friends, stick with tradition in my family.

Ok, so, maybe I had a little mustard with mine. Don't judge me.

The correct device for opening an oyster shell you ask? Why a flathead screwdriver of course!

Mmm mmm good!

Our crab collection by about halfway through the meal.

Have I mentioned that I love my family?

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