Before I left on a recent trip to Australia I was approached by a stranger in the locker room of my health club who had overheard me talking about plans to explore the Grand Pacific Drive that links Sydney and Melbourne.
In the middle of taking off my kit (as they say in Australia) this stranger declared the many attributes of Merimbula's oysters.
"They're the best oysters in the world!" he exclaimed. "And my wife is from there."
At that moment I recalled Tourism Australia's recent and controversial advertising slogan, "So, where the bloody hell are you?" I thought to myself, "So, where the bloody hell is Merimbula?"
Standing literally half-naked while confronted by this enthusiastic oyster promoter, I felt I had no choice but to murmur something about agreeing to try to visit the town of Merimbula.
The information was promptly stored away in the deep recesses of my brain as I quickly forgot about this strange locker room encounter. That is until two weeks later when I found myself approaching Merimbula—a town of more than 8,000 people who live along the northern shore of Merimbula Bay on the Sapphire Coast in the province of New South Wales.
A quaint place without trying to be, Merimbula, like many of the towns located along this part of Australia's coastal region, maintains a low-key lifestyle that is centered around the beaches, bush walking and, of course, seafood.
However the focus of my serendipitous visit here continued to elude me. I had imagined that Merimbula would have a sculpture of a giant oyster at its entrance with a sign proclaiming the "world's best oysters," but no such structure was visible.
I then head over to the aptly named Hungry's Café to discover a blackboard with the word "oysters" unceremoniously crossed out.
After questioning the proprietor of Hungry's, she convinces me that Merimbula does indeed have some of the finest tasting oysters, just not at her eatery. She mentions something about recent renovations and not enough space to store them. She directs me to the local fish shop where she assures me plenty of the allegedly magnificent Merimbula oysters will be on hand.
I bravely poke my head into Fresh Surfside Seafoods on Alice Street but again no indication of the object of my epicurean fantasies and growing appetite.
I begin to suspect that the oyster aficionado back home in Calgary is merely a promoter of his wife's former hometown and that the mythological Merimbula mollusk will remain an unconfirmed legend. No doubt responding to a look of desperation, or at least hunger, on my face, Peggie Noble, a friendly clerk at the fish shop, provides me with the most solid lead of the day.
"The best place for Merimbula oysters is Wheeler's," she says. "You won't be disappointed."
With that I speed over to Wheeler's, the nearby restaurant/retail outlet and unofficial headquarters for Merimbula oysters operated by Hugh Wheeler, a local who has been in the oyster business since 1982.
"Oysters have never been tamed," says Wheeler.
Wheeler maintains that the oyster industry is less about farming and more about husbandry. He lovingly raises the oysters in an estuary on nearby Lake Merimbula where a series of large frames containing wood slats are placed. The precious commodity attaches itself to the slats slowly growing into full-sized oysters that Wheeler harvests to sell to tourists and locals alike.
"The typical time is three and a half years before an oyster weighs 50 grams," says Wheeler who is one of approximately 200 oyster farmers in the area.
While explaining that Merimbula oysters are often referred to as Sydney rock oysters and that they have been making it onto the tables of Australia's best restaurants for decades, Wheeler does what I have been hoping for—he cracks open one of the precious oysters and slurps it back.
Fortunately Wheeler is skilled with his shucking knife and pries open two more of Merimbula's gold and hands them to me to try for myself. Fearing that nothing could match my now wild expectations I am at first tentative but then tilt my head back and let the mass slide down my throat.
In his 1964 novel, A Moveable Feast, Ernest Hemingway described oysters "with their strong taste of the sea." Merimbula's oysters live up to this description but also maintain a surprisingly sweet and soothing aftertaste that leaves you wanting more.
Are Merimbula's oysters the "best in the world?" I'm not sure, but the next time a stranger approaches me in the locker room with a culinary tip I'll take careful notes.
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