The practice of cooking oysters over open fire belongs to a far greater, ancient tradition. Shell rings, archaeological sites scattered with mollusk shells, remain across the Southeast, suggesting that people have gathered to share meals like this for centuries. These days, folks convene beside a propane stove and steam bivalves by the pot. At festivals and dockside bars, some stick to more rustic means: firewood, flames, a wide metal sheet; sea-soaked burlap sacks; and a shovel for transporting each steaming batch to newspaper-clad tabletops. London enjoyed a similar set up throughout his childhood, when his father would prop an old car hood atop cinder blocks for their weekly roasts in the backyard. These were formative moments for London, the sensory details enshrined into memory. “When you steam wild oysters you’re concentrating flavor, creating a broth inside the shell, just as you would roast bones for a browned chicken jus,” he says. “The richness and developed flavor that’s coming from the oyster shells releases minerals and transfers onto the flesh of the oyster.”
A roast, however, is more than the food itself, but rather an experience meant to be shared. On this particular late afternoon, London and his partner in life and work Yoanna Tang have assembled their staff out on Palm Island for a meal they won’t likely soon forget. After a short boat ride, guests dispersed to admire dolphins rollicking in the marsh’s winding waterways. It’s a rare reprieve. Now in its sixth year, Chubby Fish garners a three-hour wait, even on weekdays (spawning a cottage industry of paid line-waiters). By the end of 2024, London and Tang will open Seahorse next-door—a cocktail bar with a menu, like its sister restaurant, inspired by coastal flavors from around the world.
They’re off the clock today, but the couple inhabit their usual roles: London focused at the stove, Tang chattier, wrangling guests and prepping the deck for dinner—a dynamic that suits their temperaments and has contributed to Chubby Fish’s meteoric ascent. Anchoring their success is a reverence for Charleston’s plentitude of natural resources: a wealth in fish and seafood they obtain strictly through sustainable fishermen and purveyors. Connecting the land, water, and food to diners is part of what makes Chubby Fish work. They extend the same ethos to their staff, a few of whom have never partaken in a proper roast. “It’s always really wonderful to be able to share this with someone who’s never gotten the full experience before,” London says.
Soon the table is full and by the third oyster pot, every guest is a pro at prying open the rugged shells, their varying condiment preferences claimed. Once the sun sets, the full picture clicks into place. What you’re tasting isn’t merely sea or brine; that influence changes day to day, depending on the salinity and temperature of the water. When you’re there, looking out at the tide pulled back, the oyster beds hemming the marshline, “there’s no better way to get a sense of time and place,” says London.