A Weekend of Oysters…and Champagne.

I don’t eat oysters but I adore the Falmouth Oyster Festival. I ate them deep-fried in Maine many years ago and they were fine, simply because they didn’t look like oysters. However, Mrs C worships them and confessed, this was her favourite weekend of the year.

“Why is that?” I asked her, while pushing my way to the bar to order a pint of Betty Stogs.

“Well, not only can I eat and drink my favourite things, namely Champagne and oysters, I can do it completely guilt free; because we are celebrating Falmouth’s oyster industry. So there, now I’m off to get my Champagne.”

On this occasion Mrs C is correct.

For over 100 years, Cornish families have gained their livelihood from oyster dredging in the Carrick Roads.

Many of these oyster boats, known as working boats, were built at local boatyards with some of the oldest boats dating back as far as 1860.

Regulated by ancient laws that were established to protect the natural ecology of the riverbeds, oystermen were prohibited from using engines.

Instead, sail power and hand-pulled dredges must be used. So it still remains as sustainable fishing.

While Mrs C scoffed her oysters, sprinkled with huge measures of Tabasco, I slipped outside the marquee to sample the street food. This year I was determined to taste the delights of Katie’s Cornish Hot Pots.

These guys are experts at bringing their ‘round the world’ style street food to Falmouth festivals.

I ordered the mixed fish curry which included haddock, green beans, leeks and butter beans cooked in a white wine and cream sauce. For £8 it was an amazing meal served in a bowl with rice and a flatbread.

When it comes to street food – this is as good as it gets.

Oysters may be an acquired taste but the Falmouth Oyster Festival remains a true celebration of what this town does so well. Despite the winds that came courtesy of Storm Callum, the festival still managed to attract thousands of visitors who came to enjoy a fun-filled weekend and savour the cream of Cornish food and drink.

Having finished my curry I returned to the marquee to find Mrs C on the edge of the stage swaying gently to the sounds of a band called The Cello Cats.

“Are you ready to go yet?” I asked.

“Yes, I think so – but we can we stop at The Bottle Bank to get a bottle of fizz to take home….?

You can follow Tony on Twitter: @cowelltweets