I have hated oysters for as long as I can remember. I have watched my dad stand knee-deep in Hood Canal and eat them raw as he pulled them out of the water. My mom would occasionally fry some for dinner and I would go hungry rather than let even one pass my lips. Even barbequed with lemon juice turns me off. To me, they are little slimy things that remind me of what I used to throw away when gutting fish.

However, there was one time in my life I actually forced myself to devour several oysters on the half shell.

Back in 1981 or 1982 the company I worked for, Spokane Steel Foundry, was asked to consider partnering with a company based in Chicago to manufacture railroad undercarriage frames. At the time Spokane Steel Foundry was making railroad car steel wheels so it looked like it might be natural fit and could greatly add to the company’s revenue.

To investigate this possibility further, I was asked what physical changes and additions to the plant’s equipment and processes would be necessary to be able to make these large castings. After a quick look, I made a wild guess what it might cost and how long it would take to get into production. Our foundry owner thought it was at least worth pursuing, so he, his son, the plant production manager, and I flew to Chicago to meet with the potential partner.

In the first five minutes of the meeting I knew this was going nowhere, but our foundry owner just sat and listened to the proposal. The Chicago businessman was a short arrogant man totally full of himself, and what he was proposing was pretty much one-sided. He would call the shots, make most of the money, and the total financial investment would be Spokane Steel Foundry’s responsibility.

The meeting went on for a couple of hours with the Chicagoan doing all of the talking. I could tell my boss was about to say no thank you and leave when we were invited to lunch at the Chicagoan’s private club. We were going to the Mid-America Club at the top of the Standard Oil Building. I had by that time been to Chicago several times, but never to that club. We all looked at each other and thought why not. At least we would get something out of the trip. So off we went listening to our host brag about all his accomplishments and wealth. Remind anyone of someone else?

When we walked into the dining room I was surprised at the lack of ostentatiousness of the place. It looked more like my high school cafeteria than a fancy club. It came nowhere close to the Spokane Club in ambiance. 

So how does this have anything to do with my cuisine dislike? 

What this dining room did have was a long line of buffet items including about 50 oysters Rockefeller, as well as many things that would be expected for a gourmet lunch. 

Since this was going to be a great meal at someone else’s expense, I forced myself to eat as many oysters as I could until I thought I was going to throw up. I figured we might as well run up the tab just for fun.

When we got back to the office to conclude our business, our host asked our foundry owner what he thought of the idea of a partnership. My boss calmly replied he didn’t think there was any chance of it working and we got up, left, and flew home. There was never another mention of making railroad car undercarriage castings.

That’s the one and only time I have eaten oysters and I have no intention of starting now.

Ken Kaiyala
4-20-2026