Sea Urchin and White Wine: The Best Breakfast Imaginable?
Sea Urchin and White Wine: The Best Breakfast Imaginable?
Oursins in Carry-le-Rouet
We were told to arrive early at Carry-le-Rouet for the annual Oursinade, or sea urchin festival. Lucky we did, because we were able to nab a spot at one of the tables that line the port of this pretty town. So, oursins for breakfast it was.
One wonders how anyone could have imagined that this prickly black ball found in the Mediterranean (and elsewhere) would be edible. Once cut open—carefully— the green sludge is removed, revealing five slim, orange ovals of roe. Better to let professionals do this part. While I guarded our place at the table, my husband went in search of a dozen, then another dozen, then one more. Scraped out with a tiny spoon, the creamy roe slithers down the throat and tastes of the briny sea.
And how does a sea urchin go down first thing in the morning? Well, better with a glass of Picpoul de Pinet!
Carry-le-Rouet is situated in a picturesque bay on the aptly-named Côte Bleue, or Blue Coast, just west of Marseille. All manner of sailboats and fishing vessels bob in the marina.
It was back in 1952, so the story goes, that the fishermen of the town decided to give the mayor, Jean-Baptiste Grimaldi, his weight in sea urchins as a gift. Given how lightweight they are, that would have amounted to rather a lot of sea urchins.
This evolved into a festival, held in the town every February, when sea urchins are in season, and it has now grown so popular that this year it is being held on all four Sundays of the month. Sea urchins are still harvested by hand, according to traditional methods.
On a sunny Sunday, throngs of people descend on this tiny town, where stand after stand offers heaving buckets of the delicacy. For those in need of a bit of variety, there are also oysters from Bouzigues, shrimp, sautéed squid, and paella.
We linger at our table, not willing to give up our precious spot. This gives us the chance to meet a ton of people, including a large family from Avignon with a newborn baby, some lovebirds from further down the coast, and even a couple who have driven 500 miles from La Rochelle, on the west coast of France, just for a salty taste of the south.
We finally relinquish our coveted spot and stroll by the masses of people camped out on the rocks with their platters of sea urchins and bottles of white wine. Then we take a leisurely stroll on the coastal walk to soak in the sunshine and all that blue.
By 2 pm, there’s not a single oursin to be had.