the drunken clam

The past few days in Rockport have consisted of lots of fishing, crabbing, and, for the first time, clam digging. If you happen to have a good eye or a keen sense of feeling in your toes, clam digging can be quite easy. One evening, as my arms grew tired of scooping heavy, temperamental crabs, I lazily scanned the shallow waters of Redfish Bay for some pretty shells. I spotted a series of perfectly formed, one-inch specimens sitting in the sand. I bent over and picked one up. It had another half! I dropped it in my net and tested the others in the group. They all had other halves! I had eaten clams many times before in restaurants, but I had never steamed them on my own. Before I knew it, I had five clams, then ten, and so on. I even found several three- and four-inchers! That afternoon, we steamed them and separated the meat from the shells. The next day, Seth and I made a heaping pot of Giada de Laurentiis’s linguine with clams in white wine. I only wish there had been more sauce!

Also, I should mention the following: I know most of my entries as of late have centered around my kitchen and restaurant adventures. This is merely a coincidence. My life blog is not turning into a food blog. Promise.

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