Tasting Notes – Bowen's Island, Charleston, SC

One breezy Sunday afternoon we braved the traffic heading to Folly Beach in search of steamed oysters, fried shrimp and cold, delicious beer. After missing the turn-off twice, we found the pothole-ridden dirt path to Bowen's Island. We wound our way to the "parking lot", where customers haphazardly abandon their cars at amidst piles of oyster shells, and entered the compound of run-down, fire-damaged buildings that make up the restaurant.

Our first stop was the shack where a very kind Southern gent takes orders, runs the register, and chats up the customers (not all at once, mind you, serially and slowly – yet another reminder that I was in a land far, far away from New York City). Our menu selections had been made and we were eagerly eyeing the beer fridge when we realized that Bowen's Island is a cash only establishment. We had a little cash, but who wants to be limited by a pocketbook when faced with steaming heaps of dirt cheap oysters and an evening with nothing better to do? So 30 minutes, lots of beach traffic, and another missed turn later, we returned to Bowen's Island with cash, spent another eternity waiting to order, and sat down in the upstairs dining area with a six pack of Red Stripe and a huge, lunchroom tray of crusty mollusks.

Up to this point, most oysters I had eaten were raw and served atop polished half shells. Not at Bowen's Island. The oysters at Bowen's Island look funky. Really funky. And they are steamed by the bucketful (for which I am grateful – I'm not sure I would trust raw oysters that looked that funky). You get a dull knife, a towel, and a tray full of funkiness, and you go to town.

And we did, and it was excellent. The oysters were perfect – sweet, succulent, and bursting with briny juice. A little cocktail sauce, a lot of beer, and that tray was gone faster than it took us to get there.

And then we waited. And we waited. And we waited some more.

At some point, someone finally served us a tray of fried things, the only memorable parts of which were the tender, mid-sized shrimps and the awful, cement-heavy "hush puppies." But the beer was flowing freely as we enjoyed the sunset over the marsh, and we agreed that our trip to Bowen's Island was good.

Simple Pleasures

What could be better than thin shavings of salty parmesan and a crisp white wine on a Monday night?

This blogging is making me thirsty.

Tap water in the City is the best tap water anywhere.

Sometimes I hate that I am turning into one of those people who call NYC "the City" and speak as though it's the center of the universe. But you would be hard pressed to find a place with better tap water.

In an effort to be more "green," I try to avoid buying water in plastic bottles (plus the idea is pretty ridiculous if you think about it), but as a result, I am left with the best that my immediate locale has to offer, which when traveling is invariably worse than what I can get out of my bathroom sink.

A little quick research reveals that the majority of drinking water for the five boroughs comes from the Catskill/Delaware Watersheds in upstate NY.* So even though we live in one of the most densely populated urban areas in the world, we are essentially drinking from mountain streams.

Just another reason to love living at the center of the universe!



*check out http://nyc.gov/html/dep/pdf/wsstate08.pdf for more info on NYC drinking water supply and quality