OYSTER FESTIVAL [Click the photo above to go to Oyster Festival’s official website]
Stone Street, Finanical District, New York, 10004
Fall seems to be the season of food festivals, so after the San Gannero festival, I decided let’s keep the ball rolling with the Oyster Festival. I went to the gym hoping it would negate the damage I’d do to myself later in the day (it didn’t) and texted my friend while on the bike, the standard question we text all our friends…
“How do I get there?” We know we can all look it up ourselves, but why not make someone else do it for us? I’m lazy, and I’m poor (and by poor, I mean my mom is going to strangle me when she sees the credit card bill) so I figured if I had to get down to Wall Street, I probably didn’t want to pay for a $15 cab or find out how to get there. My friend informs me the 4 or 5 will get me to Wall Street. I continue to text her while on the bike, which means I clearly worked my ass off at the gym.
My 21 year old hungover sister has decided to use me for my apartment once again, and sleeps soundly as I get myself ready for my day out. I tell her to get up so I can make my bed and she struggles to get up telling me she forgot where she was (oh to be young).
I manage to take the 6, transfer to the 5, and get to Wall Street, and felt like an absolute baller until I looked at my google maps and got completely lost trying to find this stupid Oyster Festival.
I keep walking left then right, and staring at my map as I watch the blue avatar of myself go to the left and right of where I’m supposed to be going. I don’t get it! I call my friend, and she tells me our other friend can see that on google maps she’s the closest so to come to her. Sure I say.
Forget this! I hail a cab tell him I’m supposed to go to Pearl Street, he legitimately drives me around the corner, and I’m magically in the center of Oyster Festival. Made it!
My friend calls me, “where are you??”
“Oh, I’m already at Oyster Festival, you can just meet me,” I say as if I’m the queen of Manhattan.
I never told them I took a cab so if you’re reading this, now you know. I’m a liar.
We walk in, and apparently this street is a wind tunnel and the tank and shorts I have on are just not cutting in.
My friend offers me her scarf or her cardigan.
“You can wrap the scarf around your head”
“I think I’ll just take the cardigan.”
We haven’t even started drinking yet.
We manage to stroll and get a look at all the stands, to see what we’re working with. I decide I have to try oysters, but end up ordering a lobster roll (two rolls for $10 and chips included). We begin our drinking. I start with a mimosa which was $8 for two sips of orange juice, and my 2 other friends are chugging sangria that might as well have been called rum.
My other friend runs to get a bloody mary, and ends up watching the ice melt, because it’s too strong for her to drink. Woops.
As we manage to walk through the mosh pit that is Oyster Festival I notice there are a lot more guys here than girls, and they’re actually good looking. My friend looks at me, “We need to come here for happy hour.”
We find a table, I upgrade to sangria, and then next thing I know I ate everything.
Pizza special: two slices and a beer for $10. (I didn’t get this, but I had a bite)
$1 Pizza Special: somewhere else. The pizza is tiny, and its $3 if you want a meat slice.
I decide it’s time for me to learn to like oysters: FAIL. I eat 6 slimy suckers for $8, and want to cry the whole time I’m eating it. They were east coast and briny, and I don’t know why people choose to eat these things.
We all somehow manage to go through 3 servings of Cajun fries: always leaving one fry left in each basket, because no one wants to eat “the last one.”
We end up finding a somewhat clean porta potty and pretend it’s our private bathroom. I end up talking to some random guy who is “from the desert” (I’m quoting here) while waiting on line, and he tells me how he’s not used to oysters, because he’s never lived by the sea. I don’t know I have to pee. He was sort of cute, but he sounded like he was giving me a presentation and I wasn’t biting.
Next thing I know I’m exhausted, pretty drunk, and full. All I want to do is shadily dip, take a $20 cab home nap, and maybe order Chinese food. But noooo my friend corners me into sharing a cab with them so we can go to a sex toy party. They’re not as cool as they sound fyi.
I end up going to this party, and realize I can’t find my friend who dragged me here. I end up finding her face down on her bed, fully dressed, make-up on, and heels hanging off her bed.
Maybe I am just like my 21 year old sister.
Oyster Festival
I stole this picture, but just so you can see how crowded it gets. It really is just one street filled with people everywhere!
Oyster Festival (beer and bloody mary)
I took the beer picture by accident, as you can tell from the quality of the picture. But don’t go to this if you’re not going to drink! It’s crowded. It’s loud. It’s really fun!
Oyster Festival (lobster roll)
It was a really good lobster roll! Not too mayo-y. I haven’t had one in a while, and I didn’t start drinking yet when I ate this, so I know it was good!
Oyster Festival (cajun fries)
Looks like we ate everything except the oysters. We ordered this THREE times. The guy saw us coming, and screamed “they’ll be ready in 10!” Considering they had to make them in bulk they were pretty good fries! Crispy and not overcooked or soggy.
Oyster Festial (pizza: two slices and a beer for $10)
It was decent pizza. It’s just a good alternative to seafood, if you don’t eat shell fish. It also is never a bad idea to eat pizza when you’re drinking.
Oyster Festival (East Coast Oysters)
I hate them. I’m sorry. I thought I could like them a little bit, but I can’t stand East Coast oysters. I can stomach West Coast. EEK
GirlyFoodie 