One of the coolest things I ever saw was in the kitchen of Restaurant Patrick Jeffroy in Carantec, France. Chef Jeffroy took a handful of oysters, threw them in a device that looked like a steam autoclave from a dentist’s office, set the timer for 30 seconds, and pressed the start button. Half a minute later, the door popped open and inside lay the oysters, still cold but now with their shells open. All that was left to do was to separate the muscle from the two shell halves and, as the French are rumored to say, voilà. (I’m currently reading that some restaurants are using a quick dip in liquid nitrogen to achieve the same end result.

Shucking oysters is a skill I’ve never been able to cultivate. I can show you multiple ways to open scallops. Clams are no big deal. Mussels, I never had a reason to shuck. But put an oyster in front of me and I struggle. I dread when I have to teach a class that involves oysters, especially since the school buys huge wild ones that won’t even open with a pneumatic hammer. So why would I choose to prepare oysters as an amuse-bouche?

I’ll let you in on a little secret. The market down the street from me sells numerous varieties of oysters for a reasonable price and they’ll shuck them at no extra charge. They are clever in that they release the hinge on the shell, but leave the muscle still attached to both halves of the shell. They even pack them on ice for transporting home.

The preparation that Chef Jeffroy was making that day was a cold oyster sitting in its bottom shell with a creamy curry-flavored gelatin encapsulating it. The Chef served three large oysters as a first course. (You might say he “pressured” the oysters into joining us for dinner.) When I started becoming interested in amuse-bouche, I thought of these oysters. I checked back through my notes, but I couldn’t find the recipe. But that was okay because, although I liked the taste, I had been bothered by the opacity of the gelatin. I guessed there was an oyster in there because of the shell, but I had to dig for it.

I thought about a number of clear liquids that would work, including a clarified fumet de poisson, but in the end settled for a simple dashi. If I’m preparing a full Japanese meal, I make my dashi from scratch, but in the case of a few oysters, probably not more than 120 ml (1⁄2 c) of dashi would be required and thus not warrant using all that kombu and katsuo-boshi. So I use—imagine me whispering in your ear now—instant dashi. I wouldn’t use the stuff for many of the things I cook, but in this instance, it works just fine. For this oyster and pearl presentation, I’ll sometimes infuse the dashi with some ao-nori, which is finely shredded seaweed and easy to strain out.

The other ingredient, one that Chef Jeffroy didn’t include, is the “pearl.” On the day I took the above picture of the completed dish, I had scored a large bag of fava beans at a dirt-cheap price. I had shucked, blanched, and peeled the beans shortly after I purchased them. So I set a few aside as my pearls. On another occasion I’ve made orange pearls by setting some carrot juice with agar and then cut out small pearls with a 1-cm (3⁄8-in) baller. A black pearl made from black-bean puree or a purple one made from beet juice would also be interesting.

To cover the oysters with the gelatin mixture, it’s necessary to set up a work space in a cool area. I create a work space on the top shelf of my refrigerator by clearing a space large enough to place a half-size, rimmed baking sheet and keep it level. I then bunch up a few wads of aluminum foil and press the bottom oyster shells into the foil so the rim of the shell is about level. A single oyster is then placed in each shell and arranged to be below the rim. The baking sheet is then set in the refrigerator.

I then prepare my dashi, as discussed previously. I weigh the dashi and then measure my gelatin. I use about 1%, by weight. I use sheet gelatin, so I have to swell the gelatin in cold water before adding it to the dashi. In my case, the dashi is usually still cool at this point, so the dashi-gelatin mixture is placed in a small saucepan over heat. I stir it while it’s heating—just until the gelatin melts. I then transfer the saucepan to a cold-water bath and continue stirring until the gelatin starts to thicken into a thin syrup. I wipe off the bottom of the saucepan and pour from it directly over the oysters and into the shells. The first pour is just a small amount. I use it to set the pearl and oyster into position, and nothing more. If I add too much, they may float and move around. I close the refrigerator door and wait a couple of minutes. Since the gelatin mixture was already close to the gelling temperature, it will gel quite quickly when it hits the cold oyster and shell. On the second pour, I fill the oysters to the rim of the shells. I don’t worry if some of the mixture spills over the edges; clean up is much easier after the spills have solidified. Again, I close the refrigerator door and wait a couple of minutes. For the third and final pour, I carefully pour only as much of the gelatin mixture as will cover the surface and stay in place with surface tension. If it starts to pour off the side of the shell, the layer will thin out. If the gelatin mixture starts to gel in the saucepan, I set the saucepan over low heat for a short time to liquefy it. I verify that it is close to gelling before I pour it onto a previously filled shell or the new liquid may melt the old.

All that’s left now is to get the filled oysters to the table. I typically will spread some very coarse salt on a plate and set the oyster in the salt. A shallow bowl works even better than a plate because the salt won’t slide as easily, but I don’t currently have any the right shape. I’m using water softener salt, which is very coarse, but unless you have use for a 50-lb bag, you may want to settle for a less coarse variety. Restaurants often make a paste from egg whites and mildly coarse salt to set oyster shells on.

Since these oysters don’t just slide off the shell like ordinary raw oysters, your guests will need a utensil to eat with. I’ve used small cocktail forks, small chopsticks, and even 5-cm (2-in) long bamboo skewers. They all seem to work fine.