Seafood guilt

A lot of things make me feel guilty about my personal contribution to the end of the world (by which I mean the end of human civilisation in its current form, not the literal destruction of the planet).

Flying, using a car, badly insulated houses with the heating on, having pets, not eating everything on my plate, using single-use food packaging, engaging with the industrial food chain, throwing away plastic, leaving lights on, my own methane etc etc etc (or ecc, ecc ecc in Italian), but my desire to eat seafood is right up there.

I could (and can) live without the meat of mammal and fowl, but do so crave cephalopod, crustacean and piscine flesh. Having gone without across the entire width of the USA – that is, about 3000 miles – I was keen to find some in SF. Luckily, one of Cameron’s friends was Sean, who not only introduced me to several good beers, but he also works at the renowned Monterey Bay Aquarium, which runs the Seafood Watch programme, to encourage sustainable seafood production and consumption.

One of the places in SF that carries their badge is Hog Island Oyster Co in the Ferry Building. Yesterday, while on a mission to replicate a photo of Fran’s mum in SF in 1971, we stopped in to eat. Not that either of us actively likes oysters but hey, when in Rome. I had a very tasty stew – well, more of a creamy soup with five oysters in it. It was good and helped me overcome my mundane issues about this particular mollusc (raw oysters = marine mucous). I also had a
Red Seal Amber Ale from North Coast Brewing Co, based in Fort Bragg, Mendocino, north of SF.

It was served too cold, which seems normal here, but was pleasant – rosewater scents (thanks Fran) and a sweet, caramel malty taste with ….. Crap, I’m struggling blogging via this Nexus 7. That sentence just stopped. I’m sure I wrote a conclusion, but now it’s lost after 20 minutes fighting with the useless Gallery app. Apologies. Normal service will resume eventually.