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Cancale oysters, fresh from the ocean. |
Three weeks ago, Nick and I were on the Brittany coast of France, in the town of Cancale, sitting in the sunshine on concrete steps and slurping raw oysters pulled fresh from the ocean, pried open by women who spend their entire day shucking oysters of all sizes and shapes for locals and tourists who visit their stands. There are normal-looking oysters for the ridiculously inexpensive price of 5€ to 8€ a dozen, and there are also oysters for sale as large as your hand that you’ll wonder how in the world people eat without dripping oyster liquor all over themselves. Then there are the briny Plate-Belons, les plates, the flat regional specialties that the women will tell you to eat as they are; you won’t even be allowed to buy a lemon to take away with your douziane. And no matter which stand you buy your huîtres, you’ll hear the same advice: when you’re finished eating, oyster shells get tossed into the sea; lemon rinds and plastic plates and knives go back to the stand.
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What a lineup! |
When the tide is high, those concrete steps disappear into the ocean. When the tide is out, sailboats sink lazily into the muddy floor of the Bay of Mont-Saint-Michel. Nearby, men in waterproof bucket pants work the oyster beds on foot or by tractor, meters from where the fruits of their labor are distributed to happy stomachs. All day long, the silhouette of Mont-Saint-Michel sits on the horizon, an especially breathtaking sight against the tangerine glow of sunrise.
Even though it ends in an “r” – as the best oyster-eating months do – October is the off season in Cancale. Which is why we love it there. It’s the only place we’ve been to twice on vacation while living in Europe. I mean, let’s face it: fall colors + quiet seaside town + cheap, fresh oysters + the most unreal deep turquoise ocean you’ve ever seen, well, that all adds up to a pretty stellar vacation for this household.
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Oyster beds in Cancale |
Lest you think I’m in cahoots with the Cancale Tourism Office by using fancy phrases like “tangerine glow” to describe the sunrise, this post isn’t actually about my vacation. It’s actually about something interesting I learned while on vacation that ties back to Luxembourg.
(But I’m including a few more Cancale tidbits at the end of the post, in case you want to go.)