An Ode to the Oyster Cracker

It’s a late night in 2004 and I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed in my photograph-laden dorm room. My roommates and I have just returned from our Friday night ritual of happy-hour-turned-all-night-drinks at What Ale’s You in downtown Burlington, Vermont, and we’re rehashing the night’s shenanigans. As usual, there is drunk food. One of my roommates tucks into a slice of pizza while the other two are feasting on late-night ramen. I, on the other hand, am making short work of an entire bag of Premium oyster crackers, like I always do after a night out.

With the ideal balance of salt and crunch, this tiny round cracker—the Saltine’s little sister—has been with me since I was young. They were as essential to my childhood as chasing down the ice cream truck’s siren song, watching Saturday morning cartoons, or circling my holiday wishlist items in the JCPenney catalog every December. Our pantry consistently had an open bag of Premium brand oyster crackers. Anytime a restaurant presents me with a packet of oyster crackers, into my purse it goes for future snacking. I’ll throw those bad boys in any and every kind of soup, eat them when traveling, or use them to make a zesty ranch-flavored snack mix. The cracker’s versatility is, in my opinion, unmatched.

I can’t remember when I first took note of my love for oyster crackers, but I also can’t recall a time in my life when there weren’t oyster crackers. And despite my passion for the snack after all these years, I’d never really considered its origin. While rooting through my pantry recently, I came across one of those little restaurant packets I had thrown in my purse to enjoy at a later date. My sheer level of excitement at this discovery prompted the question: How do I not know anything more about my beloved cracker?