Weeknight Dinner: New England Clam Chowdah
Writing about home movies recently, I was reminded of the degree to which, growing up out west, my impression of New England was formed by the screen. We are in the midst of the second blizzard of the season as I write this, and the promise of snow was one of the temptations that drew me north. We rarely saw snow, so to me it was magical. I developed an appetite for images, both still and moving, of snow – so much so that, once I moved to the city for art school, my first project for crit was a kinetic sculpture of images of city parks in snow.
Before that, however, onscreen images of New England snow were all I had. It seems impossible in the grown-up world of snow shovels, black ice, sidewalks buried under snowdrifts, but as a child it just looked so magical. Carriages carried travelers, packed in plaid blankets against the cold, through snowscapes of covered bridges, water mills, steepled churches. Cardinals darted as flecks of red through winter woods as deer braved the cold to drink from crystal brooks in patches where the ice had broken free – how that ice-cold water must have tasted! In the steel-gray towns which inspired authors from Hawthorne to Kerouac, shift workers gathered at corner pubs for tankards of stout as a respite between the bleak walk between work and home.
And, oh, that home. How I loved clapboard seaside cottages, stark whitewashed Georgians, stately Federal townhouses. Stone paths, as strict as the resident dowager, led through either formal landscaping or back-step kitchen gardens to the back of the house. Here the kitchen was placed as an interzone of sorts, a sunny respite from the utilitarianism of the mud room and the formalism of the parlor. The cooks in those kitchens, whether local homemakers in a mill town row houses or professional chefs in Newport mansions, used the area's abundance to create soul-satisfying meals that synthesized local traditions with Puritan roots. As befits the admittedly challenging physical environment, the cuisine that emerged became known for a sustaining, stick-to-the-ribs quality. How pleasant it must have been to sit down to those tables of boiled dinners, cheddar biscuits, blueberry slumps on a frosty New England night.
Without question, the centerpiece of New England cooking is the region’s plentiful, gorgeous seafood. All coastline cuisines share the usage of seafood, but there is something distinctly New England about lobstah rolls, clambakes, oystahs on the half shell. No Yankee kitchen is complete without a recipe for chowdah. There is a certain amount of discourse about what defines a chowder. My favorite definition is that it is a thick one-dish meal somewhere between a soup and a stew. Its name is a corruption of the French chaudière, the cast-iron pot that sailors made soup in, and this is why chowders are fundamentally seafood-based. Nowadays, there are several kinds of chowdah – corn, seafood, even ham – but the gold-ribbon standard is clam. Furthering the debate, there are three subspecies of clam chowder: Boston or New England is a thick chowder made with milk and potatoes, Manhattan is a thick chowder made with tomatoes, and Rhode Island is a clear chowder made with tomatoes.
Every self-respecting Yankee will avow that authentic clam chowdah is made with authentic New England clams. No one can win an argument with a Yankee, so if you wish to use fresh clams, obtain them from a reputable fish monger (please, unless you're experienced, don't go clamming yourself). Fresh clams should be closed while on display but smell clean and briny when the fishmonger pops one open for inspection. Once you purchase the clams, the fishmonger should be able to shuck them for you, discarding any that have “gone off,” and package your clams in the coveted “liquor” that will enhance the dish. However, I have it on no less an authority than the diner up the street from me – run by certified Yankees and where not only New England Clam Chowdah but its Manhattan cousin are on the menu every day of the year – that it is okay to use a reputable brand of canned clams in your chowdah. As this is a weeknight dinner recipe, that is how this original recipe is designed. As with most recipes, this looks like a lot steps, but it is simple to prepare. Serve this simple supper with oystah crackers, cornbread or grilled cheese, and a relish tray.
NEW ENGLAND CLAM CHOWDER
If you want to use fresh clams, you will need about 4 pounds of cherrystone or quahog clams, cleaned and packed as described above. Add the clams and their strained liquor to the stew as described in step 15 below. This recipe serves four.
6 slices bacon
2 6.5-ounce cans chopped clams
1 8-ounce jar clam juice
2 cups heavy cream
3 ribs celery
1 small white onion
1 large baking potato
3 tablespoons flour
1 dried bay leaf
2 or 3 stalks fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried thyme
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Dry sherry
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus additional for serving
1. Place a large covered stew pot or Dutch Oven on the stovetop. Lay the bacon across the floor of the pot, and turn the burner to medium. Cook the bacon, turning occasionally, until crisp, approximately 10 minutes.
2. While the bacon is cooking, peel the onion and remove the root and stem ends. Halve the onion from root to stem; halve each half. Cut across the quarters to form dice. Scrape the diced onion into a colander.
3. Align the celery lengthwise on the cutting board. Cut across the top and the bottom of the stalks; discard the calloused tops and bottoms of the celery stalks. Working one at a time, cut each celery stalk lengthwise in half; halve each half. Align the quartered celery stalks and cut across the quarters to form dice. Scraped the diced celery into the colander with the onion. Rinse under cool water and set aside to drain.
4. Once the bacon is crisp, remove the bacon from the pot and place on a double-layer of paper towels to drain. There should be about two tablespoons of bacon fat in the bottom of the pot. Lower the burner temperature to low.
5. Add the onion and celery to the pot. Sprinkle with salt. Use a silicon spatula or wooden spoon to stir the onion, celery and bacon fat together, being sure to scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Partially cover the pot and cook the vegetables, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft and fragrant, approximately ten minutes.
6. While the vegetables sweat, peel the potato under cool water. Be sure to remove all of the skin. Use the point of the knife to remove any eyes or other discolorations from the potato.
7. Place the cleaned potato lengthwise on the cutting board. Cut the potato lengthwise into slices about 1/4 inch thick. Cut each slice lengthwise into a stick about 1/4 inch wide. Align the sticks and cut across them to form 1/4 inch dice. Scrape the diced potato into a small bowl. Fill the bowl with cool water to cover the potato.
8. Once the onion-celery mixture is soft and fragrant, sprinkle the flour over the onion-celery mixture. Cook, stirring constantly, until the flour has darkened slightly and smells toasty, approximately two minutes.
9. Use the colander to drain the potatoes and add them to the mixture in the pot. Stir the mixture together; it will be very thick.
10. Add the clam juice and 1/2 cup water to the mixture in the pot; stir to dissolve the flour into the liquid.
11. Hold the thyme stems over the pot and strip the leaves off of the stems and into the pot. (Alternatively, add the dried thyme to the pot). Add the bay leaf to the pot.
12. Stir the contents of the pot together. Raise the burner temperature to medium and heat the mixture in the pot until bubbles appear. Stir once more to make sure that the flour sticks to the bottom of the pot. Cover the pot and lower the heat to medium-low. Cook for 10 minutes (no peeking).
13. While the soup cooks, crumble the bacon into a bowl.
14. After ten minutes, remove the lid and use a fork to test a piece of potato; it should be soft. If not, cook another minute or two.
15. Once the potatoes are cooked, add the clams with juice/liquor to the mixture. Stir to combine.
16. Stirring the mixture gently with one hand, add the cream in a thin stream. Once all of the cream has been added to the mixture, stir to combine. Stir 2 tablespoons of butter into the soup. Cover and simmer until warmed through, approximately 5 minutes.
17. While the soup finishes cooking, prepare the bowls by adding a pat of butter, a crumbling of bacon, a drizzle of sherry and several grindings of fresh black pepper to the bottom of each bowl.
18. Ladle hot soup into each bowl and serve immediately.
Before that, however, onscreen images of New England snow were all I had. It seems impossible in the grown-up world of snow shovels, black ice, sidewalks buried under snowdrifts, but as a child it just looked so magical. Carriages carried travelers, packed in plaid blankets against the cold, through snowscapes of covered bridges, water mills, steepled churches. Cardinals darted as flecks of red through winter woods as deer braved the cold to drink from crystal brooks in patches where the ice had broken free – how that ice-cold water must have tasted! In the steel-gray towns which inspired authors from Hawthorne to Kerouac, shift workers gathered at corner pubs for tankards of stout as a respite between the bleak walk between work and home.
And, oh, that home. How I loved clapboard seaside cottages, stark whitewashed Georgians, stately Federal townhouses. Stone paths, as strict as the resident dowager, led through either formal landscaping or back-step kitchen gardens to the back of the house. Here the kitchen was placed as an interzone of sorts, a sunny respite from the utilitarianism of the mud room and the formalism of the parlor. The cooks in those kitchens, whether local homemakers in a mill town row houses or professional chefs in Newport mansions, used the area's abundance to create soul-satisfying meals that synthesized local traditions with Puritan roots. As befits the admittedly challenging physical environment, the cuisine that emerged became known for a sustaining, stick-to-the-ribs quality. How pleasant it must have been to sit down to those tables of boiled dinners, cheddar biscuits, blueberry slumps on a frosty New England night.
Without question, the centerpiece of New England cooking is the region’s plentiful, gorgeous seafood. All coastline cuisines share the usage of seafood, but there is something distinctly New England about lobstah rolls, clambakes, oystahs on the half shell. No Yankee kitchen is complete without a recipe for chowdah. There is a certain amount of discourse about what defines a chowder. My favorite definition is that it is a thick one-dish meal somewhere between a soup and a stew. Its name is a corruption of the French chaudière, the cast-iron pot that sailors made soup in, and this is why chowders are fundamentally seafood-based. Nowadays, there are several kinds of chowdah – corn, seafood, even ham – but the gold-ribbon standard is clam. Furthering the debate, there are three subspecies of clam chowder: Boston or New England is a thick chowder made with milk and potatoes, Manhattan is a thick chowder made with tomatoes, and Rhode Island is a clear chowder made with tomatoes.
Every self-respecting Yankee will avow that authentic clam chowdah is made with authentic New England clams. No one can win an argument with a Yankee, so if you wish to use fresh clams, obtain them from a reputable fish monger (please, unless you're experienced, don't go clamming yourself). Fresh clams should be closed while on display but smell clean and briny when the fishmonger pops one open for inspection. Once you purchase the clams, the fishmonger should be able to shuck them for you, discarding any that have “gone off,” and package your clams in the coveted “liquor” that will enhance the dish. However, I have it on no less an authority than the diner up the street from me – run by certified Yankees and where not only New England Clam Chowdah but its Manhattan cousin are on the menu every day of the year – that it is okay to use a reputable brand of canned clams in your chowdah. As this is a weeknight dinner recipe, that is how this original recipe is designed. As with most recipes, this looks like a lot steps, but it is simple to prepare. Serve this simple supper with oystah crackers, cornbread or grilled cheese, and a relish tray.
NEW ENGLAND CLAM CHOWDER
If you want to use fresh clams, you will need about 4 pounds of cherrystone or quahog clams, cleaned and packed as described above. Add the clams and their strained liquor to the stew as described in step 15 below. This recipe serves four.
6 slices bacon
2 6.5-ounce cans chopped clams
1 8-ounce jar clam juice
2 cups heavy cream
3 ribs celery
1 small white onion
1 large baking potato
3 tablespoons flour
1 dried bay leaf
2 or 3 stalks fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried thyme
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Dry sherry
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus additional for serving
1. Place a large covered stew pot or Dutch Oven on the stovetop. Lay the bacon across the floor of the pot, and turn the burner to medium. Cook the bacon, turning occasionally, until crisp, approximately 10 minutes.
2. While the bacon is cooking, peel the onion and remove the root and stem ends. Halve the onion from root to stem; halve each half. Cut across the quarters to form dice. Scrape the diced onion into a colander.
3. Align the celery lengthwise on the cutting board. Cut across the top and the bottom of the stalks; discard the calloused tops and bottoms of the celery stalks. Working one at a time, cut each celery stalk lengthwise in half; halve each half. Align the quartered celery stalks and cut across the quarters to form dice. Scraped the diced celery into the colander with the onion. Rinse under cool water and set aside to drain.
4. Once the bacon is crisp, remove the bacon from the pot and place on a double-layer of paper towels to drain. There should be about two tablespoons of bacon fat in the bottom of the pot. Lower the burner temperature to low.
5. Add the onion and celery to the pot. Sprinkle with salt. Use a silicon spatula or wooden spoon to stir the onion, celery and bacon fat together, being sure to scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Partially cover the pot and cook the vegetables, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft and fragrant, approximately ten minutes.
6. While the vegetables sweat, peel the potato under cool water. Be sure to remove all of the skin. Use the point of the knife to remove any eyes or other discolorations from the potato.
7. Place the cleaned potato lengthwise on the cutting board. Cut the potato lengthwise into slices about 1/4 inch thick. Cut each slice lengthwise into a stick about 1/4 inch wide. Align the sticks and cut across them to form 1/4 inch dice. Scrape the diced potato into a small bowl. Fill the bowl with cool water to cover the potato.
8. Once the onion-celery mixture is soft and fragrant, sprinkle the flour over the onion-celery mixture. Cook, stirring constantly, until the flour has darkened slightly and smells toasty, approximately two minutes.
9. Use the colander to drain the potatoes and add them to the mixture in the pot. Stir the mixture together; it will be very thick.
10. Add the clam juice and 1/2 cup water to the mixture in the pot; stir to dissolve the flour into the liquid.
11. Hold the thyme stems over the pot and strip the leaves off of the stems and into the pot. (Alternatively, add the dried thyme to the pot). Add the bay leaf to the pot.
12. Stir the contents of the pot together. Raise the burner temperature to medium and heat the mixture in the pot until bubbles appear. Stir once more to make sure that the flour sticks to the bottom of the pot. Cover the pot and lower the heat to medium-low. Cook for 10 minutes (no peeking).
13. While the soup cooks, crumble the bacon into a bowl.
14. After ten minutes, remove the lid and use a fork to test a piece of potato; it should be soft. If not, cook another minute or two.
15. Once the potatoes are cooked, add the clams with juice/liquor to the mixture. Stir to combine.
16. Stirring the mixture gently with one hand, add the cream in a thin stream. Once all of the cream has been added to the mixture, stir to combine. Stir 2 tablespoons of butter into the soup. Cover and simmer until warmed through, approximately 5 minutes.
17. While the soup finishes cooking, prepare the bowls by adding a pat of butter, a crumbling of bacon, a drizzle of sherry and several grindings of fresh black pepper to the bottom of each bowl.
18. Ladle hot soup into each bowl and serve immediately.
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