Long Island oyster farms you can tour

The setting is bucolic enough: Picnic tables arranged alongside the Peconic Bay, each shaded by a turquoise umbrella. Beneath each is a slightly more unnerving still life — pairs of bulky rubber gloves and sharp, squat knives.

 “I’m going to walk you through the life of an oyster,” says Little Ram Oysters' Stefanie Bassett, a tanned, spring-loaded figure squinting into the sun, clad in shorts, a navy T-shirt and ankle muck boots. Then, she adds, we’ll learn to shuck them.

Life and death are inextricably linked when it comes to food, especially when it comes to oysters, hundreds of thousands of which lurk on a floating dock near where we stand. Bassett and her wife-partner, Elizabeth Peeples, lovingly call this a fluffery (short for “floating upweller system"), and it's here their oysters grow slowly from a sheltered childhood into adolescence, a process Bassett narrates during an hourlong tour of their operation.

Bassett and Peeples founded Little Ram Oysters five years ago after a pivotal shucking class, followed by research into aquaculture, led to their decamping from New York City in a faith-driven leap from careers in advertising and interior design (respectively) to full-time oyster farming. “We had never driven a boat,” says Bassett, nor saved much money.

But they were lured in by a 10-acre underwater oyster farm in Gardiners Bay just off Little Ram Island, a part of Shelter Island. After landing it, they found a surprise: overgrown oysters the size of dinner plates, which needed to be cleared out. The oyster bar in Grand Central Station took them all, says Bassett, who pulled them in carts down the terminal’s steep ramps, at one point running the cart into a wall. 

In the five years since, oyster farming on the East End has accelerated its renaissance, and one part of that resurgence is educating locals and tourists, eaters and curiosity seekers, all about oysters: How they are born (in a hatchery as the spawn of broodstock, tiny dots munching on plankton), how fast they grow, how they benefit the bays, coves and rivers where they live (filtering dozens of gallons of water through their bodies each day). 

This education has taken the form of a growing number of tours on Long Island’s niche oyster farms, where an oyster’s life story might be bookended by a shucking lesson and tasting.

During Little Ram's tour, Bassett pulls an open-topped box from the floating nursery and hoists it, dripping seawater, onto the dock. “Can you guess how many oysters are in here?” she asks our group.

We peer in. What appear to be thousands of miniature oysters glisten in the sun. It was about 250,000, as it turns out, and once they reach proper size, Bassett will take the 15-minute boat ride to their oyster farm to place their shells in cages, then lower them 17 feet deep into the water, to reach market size, which can take a year or more.

Last September, Peeples and Bassett moved their oyster production into an old scallop shack next to The Shoals, a new boutique hotel on the shores of the bay. Inside, Peeples dons beige waders and sorts oysters on a wet counter next to a sign that read “Women at work.” Behind her is a steel contraption where each Little Ram oyster is tumbled a few times during their life cycle, which blunts and strengthens their shells and deepens their cups (“It forces the oyster to tuck into itself,” says Bassett), making them easier to open later on. After tumbling, they take the 15-minute boat ride back to Little Ram Island to be returned to the water.

Standing together, Bassett and Peeples show off the shell differences between oysters that were born at two different hatcheries, and explain all the threats they face while growing — including murderous crabs and a gastropod called, aptly, an oyster drill.

Soon enough, it's our turn to take a blade to the survivors. Back outside, Bassett demonstrates the two ways to bust into an oyster — through the hinge, or through the side — and our group puts on gloves, wields knives and falls into concentrated silence as we twist and turn blades to pry open the Little Rams.

My first two shells crumble a bit. Soon enough, I'm rewarded with the pristine looks and robust flavor of Little Ram oysters: Brine, minerals, with a crisp, savory edge. Dabbed with bang-bang sauce — a bright-green slurry of cilantro, lime, fish sauce and chiles — they become almost electric.

Also knocking back his own freshly shucked oysters was Branden Pachter of Massapequa, 38, who had taken the tour with a friend. “We eat oysters all the time in restaurants, and said ‘let’s take a tour and learn to shuck,’” he says, adding he had learned more about the oyster’s life cycle and benefit to the water than on other tours.

“It was informative and engaging,” adds Barbara Zucker, who took the tour during a visit from Florida. “I didn’t know about growing them from seed. She really broke it down. You understand how they can be so expensive.”

Her husband, Mark, strikes a pragmatic tone. “I’m happy she took the course so she will be able to shuck forever.”

Besides Little Ram, here are other places to take oyster farm tours around Long Island — at least one by kayak.

LONG ISLAND OYSTER TOURS