Down at the Shore

The pit has been dug on the cobble beach and lined with stones.  There was a charcoal layer about 9 inches below the surface: evidence of clambakes past, possibly the one in 1993 from my cousin Jay's wedding, judging from where I chose to dig.  I found a blackened rock in my hole that shattered when tossed onto the jetty, proof of its prior distemper in flame. 

The bucket of quahogs is an archival image - hard-shelled clams I baked and stuffed in June - but we will add some more to the feast on Sunday.  Anything larger than a chicken lobster goes for $11.99 a pound and I'll be getting five of them on Sunday as well as sweet corn and 10 pounds of steamers to go with the new potatoes, hot dogs and linguica I plan to pile on the bake.  The old waxed tarp from Namibia will do nicely for a cover to trap the steam.  Drawn butter, watermelon, slaw made from our own red cabbage, and black caps picked on site will round out what should prove a magnificent feast for two of my oldest and dearest friends this weekend.  I might even bake a cherry pie. 

If it rains, we'll break out the washboiler and do it all on the stove.  Any day at the beach beats one at the office.

It's great to be down at the shore and smart to start things off in midweek rather than crawling through Friday traffic.  There's an osprey crying on the wind above the buff - the "buzzard" for which the bay is named - and I made myself a pot of chipoltle chili succotash with stewing beef that is just on the sweet side of painful.  Not everything eaten down here is South Shore cuisine.  Emily and Elias have gotten used to their Dad cooking weird stuff on vacation and are fine with it so long as there is plenty of pasta, peanut butter and whatever else they are eating these days on hand for them.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

Comments

[Tour Marm]

Looks like you're having a wonderful holiday. The clambake was impressive and I'm sure that the luau will be as well.

Down here, we have pig pickin's and put a small pig or suckling in an oil drum cooker.

Don't you just love the summer?

[frumiousb]

Do me a favor, will you? (unrelated to the post) Can you drop me an email with a mailing address where I can reach you?

Thanks. :)

[Tour Marm]

Mmmm. Mmmm. Yummy!

Here's what we do down south:

When I was a tadpole, staying at my great Aunt hopie's 'cottage' on the York River in Gloucster, VA, I was given a long stick with a net on one end, a large bucket, and a shovel to fetch lunch. It was a way to get me out of everyone's hair and became a pleasant way to occupy my time.

Soft-shell crabs, Blue Crabs, and enough oysters for the family became my morning mission.

We liked to saute the soft-shell crabs (the less done with them, the better. Frying a Virginia soft-shelled Blue Crab is sacrilege) We also preferred to steam the hardshell crabs in beer and Old Bay. The oysters found themselves on the grill with the corn or fried in a cornmeal batter them, or simply shucked and eaten
raw. Potatoes are not part of the menu. Freshly brewed sweet-tea, freshly-squeezed lemonade, or a cold beer, were the beverages offered.

Lots of newspaper were needed for the table, and after eating a bunch, we would wrap up the remains in a layer of newspaper and dump some more crabs on the newspaper-lined table.

'O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
'You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none --
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.