The rain was coming down, not hard, not gently — just with enough of a tap-tap-tap firmness to make us think more than twice of not stopping at all when we spotted the little oyster shacks by the Cancale bay.
This being June, we knew we were technically in the wrong month for oysters — if you still believe the “you should only eat oysters in months with ‘R’ in their names” theory. But we were in Brittany, which reportedly produces a quarter of France’s oysters every year.
These oysters, they had to be tried.