Colorado Rockies and Their Mountain Oysters

As some of you may know, my father is a big baseball fan, even though he never played beyond high school. But he set out one day to watch a game at every Major League Baseball stadium.

His first game was at Yankee Stadium when he was 9 years old where Don Mattingly hit a foul ball that almost made it to his seat. His latest game (27 out of 30 active stadiums) was last night at Coors Field, home of the Colorado Rockies.

Last year, he took my mother and me to a Miami Marlins game. This year, however, I wasn't as docile and wouldn't have been a patient fan. I'm more of a "run around screaming" girl than a "fill out a scorecard" girl. So I spent the evening with my beloved grandmother again while my parents saw Todd Helton (the Colorado version of Derek Jeter) hit 2 home runs in a 9-6 win over the Cincinnati Reds.

Because Denver is not nearly as avid a baseball fan community as say New York or Boston, we were able to score some great seats from StubHub. For $65/ticket (all in), my parents sat in Row 8 just off Home Plate.

Unfortunately, they sat beside what appeared to be ditzy baseball player groupies from California, but they didn't let the Peroxide Twins ruin their evening.

As fun as the game was (or so I heard secondhand), the highlight of the evening was my father sampling some of Denver's finest local cuisine. I had mentioned the other day that Denver wasn't known for its food (except its omelettes), but they do have something that isn't readily available in New York City - the Rocky Mountain Oyster.

If you know anything about geography, you'll realize that Colorado is landlocked. They don't have much of an oyster supply, so instead of feeling inadequate to such lame Gulf Coast states such as Louisiana and Florida and their warm water oyster supply, they came up with their own substitute.

It's not a very popular menu item. In fact, in the entire Coors Field baseball stadium, they only sell it at one outlet, right by Section 143 off left field. As you can see, Rocky Mountain Oysters are crammed into the menu.

My father wasn't sure he wanted to eat them, and asked the cashier if they were something people actually ordered to eat. She (of course) said yes. In fact, someone just ordered them just before (apparently).

My mother was not as supportive about my father's adventurous tastes. In fact, she gagged when the order came out. But to be fair, the photo looks like it's just a very fried meat with a bunch of french fries and a side of cocktail sauce. How bad could it be? I mean, who doesn't love fried stuff?

My parents took the meal back to their seats and since they were sitting so close to the action, the usher asked them to wait in between innings before returning to their seats.

While the usher was chit chatting with some of the other fans, he eyed my father's dinner quickly. It was very subtle and quick, but my mother definitely caught the look of shock on the usher's face when he identified what my father was about to eat. As they say, "When in Denver..."

Click here to see what Rocky Mountain Oysters are.