Posted tagged ‘clams’

“I’ve never really wanted to go to Japan. Simply because I don’t like eating fish. And I know that’s very popular out there in Africa.”

July 29, 2013

Last night it rained a bit, but today is sunny. The paper forecasts a chance of showers and temperatures in the 70’s. It seemed pretty warm when I went out for breakfast. I had the car air going but I had also opened a window. I wanted a bit of fresh air. When I got home, this part of the house felt cool. The sun hasn’t yet worked its way around.

My peace and quiet is gone. I can hear the new renters next door. They sit on their little deck, and their conversations are perfectly clear. Gracie isn’t used to strange sounds from next door so she gets up and checks every time a car moves or a door slams. One of the ladies next door was born in Maine, not in May, and she said it so loudly Gracie ran out back and barked. I am considering that an intruder alert.

My dance card has a few entries this week. On Wednesday is a play in Chatham and on Thursday friends are coming to dinner, my first entertaining gig of the summer. I should have fireworks!

I love most fish and shellfish. Salmon is an exception. Pink fish is unnatural. I also don’t like oysters, especially on the half shell. They can’t slide down fast enough. Steamed clams do have a bit of a resemblance to those oysters but steaming them then washing them in broth and dunking them in butter makes those clams quite tasty. My father, sister and I would sit at the kitchen table eating steamers. That always grossed out my mother who wouldn’t even eat fried clams with bellies. What in the heck kind of New Englander doesn’t eat clams with bellies? I only like fresh tuna; the stuff in cans is disgusting no matter what you add to it. Crabs are a lot of work. but I love crabmeat. We used to go down to the rocks and pull off the mussels just under the surface then we’d steam them and devour them. Nothing was as fresh as those mussels.

I haven’t been clamming in years, but I still vividly remember one Sunday. We were on the Brewster flats when the fog started to come in, and it came in quickly and scared the heck out of us. We grabbed our shovels and baskets and ran to the shoreline which, in only a short time, we could barely see. A few more minutes, and the shoreline would have disappeared, and we would have been stuck in the fog not knowing in which direction to walk. Yelling would have been useless. The fog distorts sound. When we got to the beach, we sat in the sand and watched the fog rolling in and covering everything. You couldn’t even see the water. We were lucky that day. We filled our baskets, got safely to shore and had steamers for dinner.

I love the fog, especially in the mornings coming off the water. That Sunday was the only time I have ever been afraid of fog.