
I remember my first oyster. Actually, it was only half an oyster. I was at a Juno Awards after party with my brother Jonathan, who already had an illustrious oyster-eating career by age 20. We spotted an oyster-shucking station and I decided this would be my first time. I told my brother I was ready, but only wanted to try half an oyster. In retrospect, this sounds ridiculous, but my brother didn’t bat an eye. He must have somehow slurped up half then bit through it, handing the remaining piece of meat in the shell to me. I winced in anticipation and shot the half-oyster back. My first thought was: “Oh no.”



