I have a mission in life. It is to scour the world and find the best oyster burgers on the planet. I perform this task as a service to humanity, and proudly consider myself the world’s foremost reviewer of oyster burgers.

Plucked from the salty brine—hopefully hours, rather than weeks (or years)—before landing on my plate, oyster burgers are one of natures finest delicacies. You can have your Wagyu beef; keep your truffles; just put me in a corner with a well-prepared oyster burger and I will be happy.

The Oyster Burger Chronicles are the record of my search for the perfect dish. I have devised a system of reviews so that if you happen to be looking for a lovely oyster burger, you will have the best advice on where to look.

I use the grid depicted above to score each burger I sample. Although the categories appear relatively straightforward, here is a breakdown of the judging criteria:

Price: Oyster Burgers, while tasty, do not generally employ expensive ingredients. Consequently, I often feel as if I am choking on a bone when I flip open a menu and see a price in the high teens. Ten dollars is, in my opinion, an equitable price for an oyster burger, with a side dish like french fries. If you want to make me very cross, charge me $15 for an oyster burger and then tack on an extra $4 for a greasy plate of deep-fried potatoes.

In short, the ideal oyster burger does not stress my credit card.

Oyster Quality: An oyster should taste like a fresh breeze off the sea. It should melt on your tongue. Ideally, the outer batter is pan-fried to a delicate, crispy crust, while the interior slips like tasty tofu between your teeth. Deep-fried, frozen oyster nuggets earn disapprobation.

Between the Bread: A bare oyster on a bun would be a shocker. A conventional oyster burger usually adds a tomato, lettuce, red onion slivers, dill pickles, and tartar sauce. How does the produce taste?

Substrate: I cover both oyster burgers as well as what the trade refers to as “oyster po’ boys.” The “po’ boy” usually comes on a dense french roll of baguette, whereas the oyster burger usually means a hamburger bun. In both cases, a fundamental rule is that the substrate—bun or roll—should not disintegrate in my hands before I am finished. Oysters release juice when bitten. If my burger falls apart before I can finish, I will be cross.

Side Dishes: French fries are traditional, but see the warning I offered under price—I don’t appreciate paying extra for my side dish.

Originality: Under Between the Bread I described a traditional oyster burger. But who says that a chef must adhere to tradition? Throw in some exotic ingredients—pickled carrots, gorgonzola cheese—and let’s see what happens. Bonus points for something I’ve never tried before, unless it is a trainwreck.

Ambience: Did I enjoy eating at your establishment? Was I well-treated? Do I want to return? These and other difficult-to-specify concerns are lumped together here.

That’s about it. It is a simple task, but someone has to do it. I hope you enjoy these reviews, and perhaps we shall cross paths over an oyster somewhere in the future.

If you are enjoying this series, why not subscribe to Richard's monthly newsletter, What's New in Old News? The Peripatetic Historian is on the road, roaming the world and compiling fresh adventures. Don't miss out. Click here to join the legions of above-average readers who have already subscribed.