Harvest to Half-shell: Oyster Farming in NH

From a small parking lot near the Scammell Bridge in Durham, farmers shifted their cages, the water of Little Bay barely surpassing their wader-covered knees. The glare of the early morning sun reflected off the still water, but a row of trees dotting the hillside spared my vision. I admired the mudflats, the brown silt shimmering and kaleidoscopic in the light, as the sound of passing cars dissipated over the bridge. When a small black truck turned into the lot, I was pulled out of my reverie.

I quickly recognized the driver as Laura Brown, the owner of Fox Point Oysters, one of 12 oyster farms operating in New Hampshire’s coastal waters and estuaries, whom I was there to meet early one morning in July 2024. She wore a worn blue baseball cap, sporting the Fox Point logo — a slumbering red fox cradling several oysters — and the farm’s name in white stitching. As we approached for a handshake, I noted her black neoprene waders and her black long-sleeved shirt, which made me feel as if I was about to embark on a stealth mission into the murky depths.

An aerial shot of farmers tumbling bags of oysters, a task that helps promote growth.

Brown revealed we weren’t actually on Fox Point, as the name of her company suggests, but Cedar Point, a small peninsula overlooking Goat Island to the south and Fox Point just beyond. At this location, seven major rivers flow into the bay, bringing freshwater and minerals from their banks. Tidal blasts from the Atlantic also introduce large amounts of salt and seaweed that flush and clean out the inlet.

“An oyster’s flavor is dictated specifically by the location they’re grown in,” she said, indicating the scene below. “They’re kind of getting the best of both worlds.”

When we were ready to head out, we scrambled down a rocky incline to the water’s edge, where Brown positioned gear on a red kayak. As she pushed the vessel off from shore, I followed her toward the rows of oyster cages, my movements slow and calculated with every step.

***

Brown first began oyster farming in 2011 after her sister, a marine biologist who worked on oyster restoration projects for the University of New Hampshire, urged her to come work on her new farm. After investing in her own cages and oysters, Brown said she “began learning how to care for them and how to work in and with the bay.” After a few years, she moved her operation from Fox Point to her current location in Cedar Point, which is often a point of confusion when connoisseurs attempt to identify the oyster’s location of origin, an important detail in considering flavor. (Readers might be familiar with the coveted Damariscotta oysters, farmed from the tidal river of the same name in the Damariscotta region of Maine, sometimes referred to as the “Napa Valley of Oysters.”)

Executive Chef Evan Hennessey of Stages at One Washington in Dover (left) stands with Laura Brown (right), owner of Fox Point Oysters, a partnership he has sustained since his restaurant’s inception.

Fox Point Oysters is a prime example of the thriving aquaculture movement in New Hampshire’s coastal waters. One of the fastest-growing food-producing sectors worldwide, aquaculture is a method of raising aquatic organisms in controlled environments with the intent to produce food, restore habitat and replenish wild stocks, and rebuild populations of threatened or endangered species. In New Hampshire, marine aquaculture efforts center around raising species such as oysters, mussels, sugar kelp and steelhead trout. Oyster aquaculture, currently the fastest growing seafood industry in New Hampshire, is an alternative to wild-harvest marine fisheries, which have experienced declines throughout the Gulf of Maine. According to the New Hampshire Sea Grant, more than 830,000 oysters were harvested from the 80.4 acres of oyster farms in coastal waters and estuaries in New Hampshire in 2021, including Little Bay, where Brown’s farm is located, and the Hampton-Seabrook Estuary.

The species harvested along New Hampshire’s coastline is the Eastern oyster, Crassostrea virginica, a keystone species in maintaining the health of coastal ecosystems. One oyster can filter up to 50 gallons of water each day, removing excess nutrients such as nitrogen for an overall cleaner water quality. Known as bivalves, or mollusks that have shells consisting of two parts, oysters use their gills and cilia to process water and feed. While marine ecosystems benefit from nutrients, too many can cause an increase in algae, known as an algal bloom, which consumes a significant amount of the water’s oxygen and kills off other living organisms.

“If there aren’t oysters out there, we have terrible water quality,” Brown said. “My farming is benefitting the bay and creating habitat, so I can’t see a better thing to grow.”

***

As we moved toward the cages, the water remained at ankle level for a time before rising just above my knees. Even in neoprene booties, I could feel the slickness of the silt, the softness of the land below pulling me down. Nearing the cages, I felt the hesitation of my lower body, my legs lifting in slow motion like a T-Rex, plodding across vast land. A row of cages lay flat before me, with only a third of the cage above water, their tops covered with mottled brown dirt, vibrant green, and rusted orange seaweed. Brown removed the cover of one, revealing a rectangle partitioned in two that was filled with oysters, their shells variations of grays, yellows and browns. With sleeves rolled, she picked up a few of the mollusks and arranged them in her gloved hand. Up close, the grooves looked like miniature mountain ranges, the peaks and valleys capturing the power and force of water, of life. I snapped a photograph from my stationary position near her, the quick-sand mud getting the better of me.

Hennessey and Brown Wade out to the oyster cages in Little Bay, a blue kayak with supplies for harvesting oysters in tow.

Evan Hennessey, the executive chef and owner of Stages at One Washington in Dover, noticed my struggle. “Instead of pulling, kind of drag your knee forward,” he said. Heeding his advice, I was instantly released from this unfamiliar substance that had become my new worst enemy.

Hennessey had joined our outing to hand-select 100 oysters to serve in his restaurant. Although Brown has to physically harvest, bag and tag the oysters, Hennessey visits the bay to select and scrub his own, familiarizing himself with the most recent conditions.

“Some people want an oyster that’s really like that size,” Brown began, the oyster in her palm nearing 3 inches. “Some people want smaller, petite ones. It depends on what they’re using them for. If, I imagine, Evan was just using them for some sort of sauce or briny flavor, it wouldn’t matter.”

Hennessey selects them based on what he’s planning on the menu. “We’ll definitely pick things out depending on what we’re going to do. It’s either straight up shucked, and then we do some sort of accompaniment to it, or we’ll shuck them, dry them and rehydrate them to make oyster sauce.”

Opened in March 2012 by Hennessey and his brother Jared, Stages serves “progressive New England cuisine,” sourcing foods from nearby farms and habitats. Located just 6 miles away, Fox Point Oysters is one of several local partnerships Hennessey has nurtured since the restaurant’s inception.

Brown and Hennessey sift through mature oysters in a cage.

“One big part of our cooking is creating flavor bases that dictate this area,” he said. “That for us is the ocean, and whether it’s seaweed, shellfish, fish — nothing to me tells the story of this area better than something like this. I mean, this oyster is the flavor of where you’re standing.”

In addition to place, environmental factors such as water temperature, currents and rainfall contribute to the unique flavor profiles of shellfish in a given area. The tide cycles, coming in and out about every six hours, can even change the flavor. Readers have likely heard of terroir when discussing profiles in wine, but merroir, originating from the French word for sea, refers to the components of flavor in shellfish. Since there had been little rainfall in the area at the time of my visit, Brown predicted that when she shucked an oyster to taste, it would have a high salinity factor.

“Right now, they’re not even eating,” Brown said, pointing out that the oysters must be completely submerged underwater. “The tide is so low, but three hours from now, the water comes back over and they’re like, ‘yum, yum, yum, yum, yum.’ That oyster can filter 50 gallons of water a day. It’s a machine. We call them nature’s pumps, because they just work so, so hard.”

Returning to the cages, Hennessey and Brown selected ideal specimens and placed them in a circular, orange laundry basket kept afloat by two blue pool noodles zip-tied to the top outer ring. Hennessey picked up a few oysters from the batch and scrubbed their shells, the bristles scratching the hard surface as excess mud plopped into the water.

“I’ll drink one down with ya,” Brown said, shucking a couple of oysters in her palm — a technique as seamless as opening the tab on a can of Coke — and extending her gloved palm across the cage to Hennessey. The two tipped their heads back slightly and slurped the flesh from the shell.

By tasting the oyster, Brown is able to better understand how the conditions in the bay have impacted the flavor profile.

“That’s really creamy,” Hennessey said.

“And super salty,” Brown added, almost finishing his sentence before throwing the empty half shell over her shoulder. “There’s just no water. There’s no rain. That’s not my flavor. I like oysters when we get the rain. I don’t want to taste the salt for the next 25 minutes.”

Turning her attention away from the cages, Brown selected a few oysters from the mud at her feet. Oysters that grow on the ground are different from those farmed in cages. Ground oysters have dark shells, and they tend to splay out more than caged oysters, which grow in and around one another. Ground oysters also often have barnacles or seaweed attached to them.

Oysters grown in cages, on the other hand, are tumbled, a process I witnessed from shore upon arrival. Tumbling the oysters around in their bags, known as condos, breaks the edge of the shell, providing each oyster with more room to grow. Oysters growing on the edge of the cage receive more food because water is flowing freely there, so tumbling helps ensure the oyster’s location rotates in the cage.

“It’s kind of fun to try them all though,” Brown said, shucking a dark shell and offering me my first oyster of the day. Together, after a celebratory ‘Cheers!’ the three of us slurped down a wild oyster.

Brown displays a shucked Eastern oyster, examining its size and coloration.

“All I can say is minerally,” Brown said. “I don’t know what the right adjective is. It’s almost a little metallic. It tastes like seaweed.”

“There’s seaweed there,” Hennessey assured her. “There’s way less creaminess to it, and then there’s like, it’s a little bit like citrus peels, like the rind.”

“Yes! Yes!” Brown’s enthusiasm was genuine, conveying a sense that Hennessey had got it exactly right.

“The salt is not lingering as much,” she added, tossing another shell behind her into the water. At the same time, a green crab — an invasive species in New England waters — inched closer to Brown’s ankles, not the first one we’d seen that day.

“Is it coming for me?” she asked without turning around to scan the murky water. Almost on cue Hennessey and I hummed the familiar duh-nuh duh-nuh from Jaws.

***

For Hennessey, one of the most rewarding aspects of Stages is sharing the story of this area — the history, science, culture and environment. “When we put dishes together and serve them, it’s a full circle, the guests being the one element that closes that loop.”

Hennessey serves six diners at a time with one turn a night at a bar overlooking his kitchen. All dishes in the multi-course tasting menu are prepared and plated right before guests’ eyes. For many patrons, Stages is an experience they seek, knowing how the food is sourced and the care that Hennessey puts into nurturing relationships with local farmers. He specifically loves the conversations that open doors for guests to purchase the products he cooks with. “All the stuff that we get is publicly accessible, and that’s really important to us,” he said.

Brown sells directly to consumers at farms and other events. In season, she sets up a booth twice a week at Emory Farm just a couple of miles down the road. “The goal is to make a small farm work. I want to be out on my farm working and I want to make a living.”

Hennessey visits the farm to familiarize himself with the current flavor of the oysters. While Hennessey will help select and scrub the oysters for his restaurant, Brown will physically harvest them, bag and tag them.

In addition to building and establishing local partnerships, Brown values sustainable practices. Sustainability in aquaculture is important because nothing is added to the environment save for the oysters and the gear. The metal cages, however, are wrapped in plastic, which is the industry’s biggest crutch, shared Brown, and something the industry is working to improve.

“And in terms of a sustainable community,” Hennessey said, “restaurants are a piece of that entire puzzle. When you’re talking about having a small farm staying small and making money, that is a dream of mine as well: to have small restaurants, sustainable within a community, serving and giving and taking from the community. That’s how life continues positively. Not through the bigger corporations and bottom lines with tons and tons of zeros in them. It’s through the vibrancy of the relationships. I think that sustainability will change the future of restaurants. It has to.”

“When I go to Stages, I know everything in there is cared for by Evan,” Brown said. “He knows the person who raised it. And then it’s prepared. Kindly and nicely. What a great way to represent an oyster. No one’s pre-shucking them, leaving them in a freezer, because they know they’re going to have a thousand people coming through for buck a shuck. He’s opening them, preparing them, and caring for them. It’s loved from the beginning to the end. That’s a very different way to love that oyster.”