Yesterday a few of us drove out to Cortez, a small fishing village to the northwest of Sarasota. I just tagged along really. Guapo and Dan had longstanding plans to go get oysters. I'd never been to Cortez, despite my lengthy frustration with the inadequate seafood in the Sarasota area. Now I'm only mildly frustrated, as the Star Fish Company has great seafood, but it's still a bit of a hike from home. My grumblings aside, we left with 200 oysters and five pounds of live crawfish. The crawfish didn't exactly go willingly, but they were far less fiesty than the crabs we cooked for new year's eve. Still, both were breeze when compared to epic battle scene that took place that afternoon at Alameda. These were no regular oysters, the largest being 8-9" in length. Many a shell was chipped and many a knuckle bruised. Everyone seemed to have fun though. The excitement shown by the hosts definitely rubbed off as many people who never thought twice about an oyster bellyed up to the coffin-sized cooler, shiv in hand, ready to suck down one of the briney filter-feeders.