What a perfect time to declare it to be New England clam chowder week because the temperature here in Maine has been zero degrees at night and the wind has been a howling! Recipes for chowder are pretty personal around here. Some old salts would never use rendered bacon fat to sauté their onions in, they'd stop listening to you, roll their eyes and turn up their noses. Salt pork is how the old timers started chowder, period. Quahogs, not likely, either.
I'm telling you from experience you can't please too many people here in Maine with chowder because it's never like their mother's. Perhaps they will taste it, but if you leave the room they all will be chatting about "where did she learn to make chowder, Howard Johnson's"? But, I'll take a shot at MY way of making it and hope that I don't take too much heat for it.
First off, you need 2 1/2 to 3 pounds of steamer clams, yup, steamers. What's a steamer clam, you ask? It's a soft shell clam that lives in sandy or muddy Atlantic shoreline. If you're lucky enough to have a choice, pick the mud clams. Nothing complicated, the mud washes away after several soakings, but God couldn't get all the grit and sand out even with an army to help. There's alway some crunchy grit left, period! Clean the fresh steamers well and go directly from the sink to a waiting large 6 quart heavy bottomed pot, turn the heat on medium and cover. You caught me, no water! Be brave...
Many years ago, my mother-in-law’s niece made a trip to England. She brought two gifts back for my mother-in-law — a Bone China tea cup and saucer and a cookbook. I was the lucky daughter-in-law who got both of her English treasures after she died.
There is food that sustains us and then there are foods that make us happy, content and "primally" nourished. I don't eat food that has any labels or tags to read. I just eat the raw ingredient that has a little story to tell me quietly about how I should best cook it.
When a wine is described as "jammy" I always think of blackberries. Rich, ripe, fruity flavors so intense they almost taste more cooked than fresh. Blackberries, when fully ripe and sweet, not sour, taste like jam to me. Jammy also means "lucky" according to an Australian English dictionary I recently consulted. I think one slice of this cake will make you feel very lucky indeed! I certainly feel lucky to have gotten the berries from my friend Alton who brought them back from his mountain cabin hideaway, Shadow Woods.
If I say, "She's so granola," you know exactly what I mean -- she's a tree-hugging, free-spirited, hemp-wearing woman with long graying hair who wears her well-worn Birkenstocks to walk to the local co-op where she buys only fair-trade goods. 