Shooting Oysters during a Lazy afternoon at Oyster Bar

I was sure that there was a bar specializing in oysters near the Esplanade waterfront because I remembered my Microsoft vendor telling me before... and ever since I told B1, the oyster enthusiast (when we were first together, the nutcase carried dozens of live oysters to my family chalet,  which is no mean feat, considering how ulu my chalet was, and he had to take many buses. Eating those unshucked oysters was an extremely memorable challenge in many ways) was insistent that we go after the concert yesterday. He didn't have lunch and was predictably in a nasty mood (I have considered carrying food with me whenever I go out with him, to combat his Royal Nastiness but I think the food is not safe around me *haha*), and we were sniping at each other as we stalked along the bridge to the Fullerton Waterboat House, which I had mistaken as the location for the oyster bar.

In the end, we had to consult the Internet which allowed B1 to lord it over me that I was using a primitive ancient Samsung phone (I curse my workplace for this), only to discover that the bar was down the road, from the Merlion, on the other side.  Walk walk walk, into Fullerton Bay Hotel, where a very nice lady concierge came out from behind her counter to offer us directions to the Customs House. It could be because I looked like someone's foreign maid sneaking into the six-star premises for a clandestine outing with my china construction worker boyfriend (this is in retaliation to the evil B1). B1 had been helpfully pointing out the similarities between me and the maids taking photos of one another enthusiastically along the waterfront the whole way. Big sunglasses. Tanned skin. (The irony was when I bought it, I was channeling Audrey Hepburn and Jackie O, when I was actually personifying Foreign Maid *major cold shower*)

No brainer name. But cute. I like it that it tells it like it is.

When we finally reached, we discovered it was literally called "Oyster Bar". Ok, haha.

And it was next to Microsoft's building. Double haha. 

I left my camera in the car. And it was in the Esplanade carpark. Triple haha. The pox is on me.

We deliberated over the menu, especially since the prices were a bit ex for our bourgeois wallets. B1 decided to go for the kill and ordered a wagyu burger (S$38), a Tsarskaya shucked pair (S$18) and a beer (I forgot what beer). I, emboldened by stupidity, chose the Oyster Shooters Trio (S$22) and Smoked Salmon with Greens (S$22), and a coke (chickened out in the end). The Keller informed me that I could choose two other flavours of the shooters, other than the yuzu and wasabi that I had already chosen. Stupid me should have stuck to 3 Yuzu & Wasabi shooters. But as usual, the stupid = = the bold, so I chose Bisque & Grand Marnier and Limoncello & Balsamico.

You consume them from left to right. But in terms of taste, I like the leftmost, then the rightmost. Centre was X

The Keller was so sweet, he told me the order in which to consume the shooters (though I would have tested myself, actually, but wasn't he sweet?!). The Yuzu & Wasabi looked kinda gross, but was sweet and sharp at the same time. Loved it. There was no way I was going to consume the Bisque & Grand Marnier. It smelled disgusting and tasted even worse. I made a face that made B1 laugh and laugh. I refused to shoot it down and cowardly teased the reluctant oyster out of the shot glass (I even offered the shot to B1 if he would drink the whole thing down), and had to chase the HORRENDOUS aftertaste with my coke. 

Given the horrific experience with the Bisque, I stared very hard at the Balsamico version. Yes, perhaps it is due to my pedestrian tastes, despite the so-called much thumped benefits of consuming vinegar, there is no way you are going to make me drink a vinaigrette mix. So I fished out the oyster and tasted a bit of the shot. The oyster went surprisingly well with the marinate (yes, I look upon it as marinate). I feel that the Oyster Bar should cut down on the liquid in the shot glass. I'd rather have a mouthful of the oyster than trying to feel for it with my tongue in the bewildering swirl. Besides it would look much prettier in the glass. But that's just me...

The main courses came in a mesclun salad camouflage with  slices of (I suspect) cornbread on the side. Mine even came with more of that disgusting Grand Marnier swill, and I was conned into thinking that I might be lucky enough to have a oyster hiding in that nasty orange red mix, digging eagerly into the glass... How cruel they were!  

Oyster Bar wraps the lemon in a yellow cloth for you to squeeze the citrus out without dropping any seeds!

The luckier B1 had a oyster baked in a wagyu beef and bacon cocoon. I remembered the Keller telling B1 that the beef would be medium rare (B1 insisted that it was the oyster which was supposed to be medium rare). Anyway the beef was tough, and tasted more like the bacon than of Kuh.

Still it was a lovely way to spend a lazy afternoon (even if I was slipping off the high seat). I enjoyed hearing the pleasing clang of the seashells in the lamp spinning above us. The rest of the place had the ubiquitous industrial design (that is supposed to be very chichi now) with rather uncomfortable high stools (yes, they have cushions, but it wasn't easy clambering on...)