Dig a shallow hole. Fill it with big rocks — field rocks, not beach rocks — cover rocks with firewood, light, let it burn down, cover with a lot of rockweed, lay down wooden boxes filled with corn, steamer clams, lobsters, striped bass, potatos, and seal it all in with a tarp.
30 minutes later and the best summer meal imaginable.
0 thoughts on “Nothing beats a clambake”
jesus, how many bugs in those baskets and how long did it take you to dig up what appears to be three complete generations of clams?
Is the Grange still putting these on? I am so jealous.
Nothing beats the simple complexity of eating steamers. Pulling them out of the open shells as completely as possible by the foot. Stripping off the skin with an experienced pull. Dipping it in broth followed by drawn butter, and then completing the task by dropping the contents into your mouth and chewing it with a grin on your face. With a beer standing by to chase it all down.
Here in NC I am stuck with grilling hot dogs and burgers. Seafood never seems quite right until I get back to New England where they know the difference between a quahog and a steamer, and hot dog buns are cut so you can use them for a lobster roll.
Alas, there are no more community clam bakes in Cotuit. The Cotuit Oyster Company used to put them on when I was a kid — great affairs with tables inside the clam shed. But those are gone. Most “bakes” are actually “steams” where the caterer tosses the ingredients into onion bags, steams in a oven, and calls it done. Nothing beats the hot rocks and taste of burnt rockweed.
I read someplace that is the first true native American cuisine — this is how the Wampanoag’s cooked when the Pilgrims arrived.
ou should see how the Donners and Reeds cooked that frosty winter, east of Sutters Fort in Sacratomato.
hmmmmmmmmmmmLong Pig, Tasty, yum yum.