Oyster Flitters at the Wine Market

[front to back: wild mushroom fricassee, corn-meal battered oysters, fried green tomatoes]

"Such concoctions as panned and scalloped oysters have never been eaten in my time by connoisseurs, and oyster fritters (always called flitters in Baltimore) are to be had only at free-for-all oyster roasts and among the wharves."

- H.L. Mencken

Apparently it's been around for a few years, but KB and I went to the Wine Market in Locust Point for the first time last night. I had heard about it from someone I met through work, and apparently it's the pride of Locust Pointillists -- an upscale wine store with an attached restaurant serving delicious, inventive food. That's what it was, and it was really, really, tasty, but it was not a perfect dining experience. Before I get into that, thought, I have to explain that I was roped in because I read on their menu that they serve fried, corn-meal battered oysters, which are the closest things to oyster flitters I've seen on a menu in Baltimore. A bit more literary context from Mencken's essay "Baltimore of the Eighties" (that's the 1880s):

Oysters were not too much esteemed in the Baltimore of my youth, nor are they in the Baltimore of today. They were eaten, of course, but not often, for serving them raw at the table was beyond the usual domestic technic of the time, and it was difficult to cook them in any fashion that made them consonant with contemporary ideas of elegance. Fried, they were fit only to be devoured at church oyster-suppers, or gobbled in oyster-bays by drunks wandering home from scenes of revelry. The most celebrated oyster-houses of Baltimore—for example, Kelly’s in Eutaw Street—were patronized largely by such lamentable characters. It was their playful customer to challenge foolish-looking strangers to wash down a dozen raw Chincoteagues with a half-tumbler of Maryland rye: the town belief was that this combination was so deleterious as to be equal to the kick of a mule. If the stranger survived, they tried to inveigle him into eating another dozen with sugar sprinkled on them: this dose was supposed to be almost certainly fatal. I grew up believing that the only man in history who had ever actually swallowed it an lived was John L. Sullivan.

The Wine Market's oysters were deep-fried, not pan-fried, which KB was able to ascertain on her first bite (I had to ask the waitress), but they were dee-lish, all the same. Just a very murky, salty, savory seafood flavor underneath the batter, and they made you want to eat them in one bite, the way you slurp a raw one right out of the shell. I think I would have been more impressed if they had been battered then pan-fried, but KB had some theory about how doing that would make them limp, or something.

The mushroom fricassee ("just well-seasoned and well-cooked," KB pithily quipped upon tasting them) and the fried green tomatoes with a goat-cheese aioli -- our other two appetizers -- were excellent. Not the type of starters you can eat for a full meal, but substantial, tart, and food that wakes you up with riotous flavors.

We were drinking an Argentine Mendoza, because I thought it might go well with my next course (and because the only other cheap wine that looked was called a "Super-Tuscan," but was, inexplicably, from Umbria), this ribeye, which came with herbed compound butter (served on the side, when it should have been on top of the steak) and mini-Yukon Gold potato pancakes and hash browns and grilled beats, all in a thick jus.

[oh, gaaaawwwd]

This was a great steak, although it came out much redder than the medium-rare I ordered it, so I sent it back. But this thing I liked best about this entree was that it lined up a progression of flavors so complimentary, that I couldn't stop eating it -- I just had to have it, in that same order (steak-herb butter-salty potato-sweet beet-red wine) over and over again. I'm pretty sure I ate more than my share of half the plate before passing it on to KB and trading it for...


[mmmm....]

...head-on jumbo shrimp and grilled peaches served over some very cheesy (almost rissotto-like), very tasty grits. We were on the fence about this one -- KB wanted the seafood stew with fish and mussels, but I talked her out of it because I thought the side, olive crackers, sounded lackluster. And oh how right I was! This dish was brilliant, not only taste-wise, but conceptually. The shrimp-grits pairing gave it a very Southern, almost Cajun-style feel
to the dish. Enjoyed thoroughly.

Here are my grades, overall:

FOOD: A-
Fried green tomatoes are usually solid, and TWM was no exception. The mushrooms were nothing special -- just "well-seasoned, well-cooked," but delicious nonetheless. Oysters weren't mind-blowing, but damn good for the only place in town I know of to get flitters. Steak initially undercooked, but came back on the flipside. Shrimp and grits very creative, very good.

AMBIENCE: B-
We thought this place was going to be a big wine store with a cozy, charming little cafe tucked in the back. It was the opposite. A too-large dining room behind a surprisingly small wine shop. KB thought it was too loud and hard to have an intimate conversation, and the decor was bare-bones artsy-industrial, which I'm not that into because it feels too yuppy (it's why Tapas Teatro is more comfortable a restaurant than Pazo).

SERVICE: B
Both hostess and server were pretty stiff and awkward. Also, the waitress failed the "Which dish is better?" test by failing to steer us towards either of the seafood dishes we were conflicted about, claiming they were both equally good, and not helping at all on that one. I tested her again, asshole that I am, by asking her if the chef had put my whole dish, and not just the meat, back in the oven when I sent it back for more cookin', and she was not as obliging as I thought she'd be.