I love fresh oysters and I have no idea why. The thought of them really isn’t particularly exciting, really. And yet, somehow, they are amazing.

My oyster journey started more than 20 years ago, when I was having a bite to eat with a friend of mine. He is older than I, and I trust his food suggestions without question.

A tray of fresh oysters went by and I grimaced. He looked at me and asked, “You don’t like oysters?”. I replied I had never had one, but the idea was somewhat challenging. He responded by ordering a dozen malpeques. I figured that if John said they were good, I wasn’t going to die.

And here’s what happened. I had one – with a touch of a vinegar mignonette. I was totally unprepared for how much I enjoyed it. I remember thinking quite a few things, most notably, “huh, I have been missing out.”

This order of Kusshi Oysters that I had with my dinner last week was delightful, but my wife still won’t try one, no matter how much I try to encourage her to give it a shot.

The oyster lesson has stuck with me – my mom always wanted us to at least try dishes that were presented to us as children. She made some pretty strange (to a kid) dishes. Some were great, others less so. This is something I do with my children. I always ask them to at least try it. Sometimes they’re right and they hate it. Sometimes the plate is clean before I can get another word in. Things haven’t changed much since I was a kid.

So far, no one in my family has taken me up on my conviction about how great oysters are. Even my brother and sister aren’t interested. Time will tell, but I expect that at some time in the near future someone in the family will admit that I was right, and they are really good.

While I’m at it, I would also like a pony, now that we’re wishing for crazy things.