Capital City Courier

RHODE ISLAND CLAMBAKES.

What They Are, How Prepared and How Consumed.

[Spectator Correspondence.]

Providence, July 7. - Rhode Island clambakes are renowned the country over, but there is scarcely any one outside the state who is at all acquainted with the process of preparing a clam dinner. All individuals not thus informed Rhode Islanders regard as hopelessly benighted; and so, for the enlightenment of such unfortunates, I have thought it well to give a description of the modus operandi of a genuine old fashioned Rhode Island clambake, together with such observations as may suggest themselves as I proceed.

It is, really now, an interesting process. The requisite materials for a small bake are as follows: A few sticks of cordwood, a number of stones about the size of a man's head - and the smoother and the more nearly round the better - a lot of wet seaweed, a big piece of canvas, and last, but not least, the clams themselves.

The man upon whom devolves the tremendous responsibility of conducting the bake - and he always has a deep sense of the dignity of his position - having collected the material, first piles up the cordwood in "corncob" fashion. He then sets fire to it, and after the fire has gotten well under way throws the stones in, around and above the blazing crackling sticks. As the wood burns away and the "corncob" structure gradually settles the stones settle with it until finally nothing remains but a pile of stones so hot that it burns one's face to stand within three feet of them.

"Our hero," as the story books say, now covers the hot stones with seaweed, pours the clams over the seaweed, distributing them evenly, puts on more seaweed and over the whole thing throws the piece of canvas, so arranging it that as little steam as possible will escape; for the stones being hissing hot and the seaweed dripping wet, there is steam in abundance, and it is the steam thus produced that cooks the clams; so that it is not strictly accurate to speak of baked clams. Steamed clams is the correct term.

It takes about three-quarters of an hour for the clams to cook thoroughly. At the expiration of that time the canvas is removed, the upper layer of seaweed raked away, and the clams, steaming hot, removed and placed upon the table ready for the diners when they shall have finished their clam chowder and fish, which are always the first and second courses of a genuine "shore dinner." This chowder is a grand conglomeration of clam, potato, onion and cracker all boiled up together, with a few pieces of salt pork to "give character" to the mixture. Strange as it may seem, Rhode Islanders really like it, or at least imagine that they do.

Following is the menu of a typical clam dinner:

Chowder.
Fish.
Clams.
Sweet Potato.
Corn.
Watermelon.
Brown Bread.
Ice Water.

The fish and corn are cooked with the clams. The fish, rolled up in wet cloth, and the corn in its husk are tucked in among the seaweed about twenty minutes before the time of "opening the bake," and left there with the clams to be steamed into a condition of edibility. Bluefish, mackerel, swordfish, cod and other kinds of "sea fruit" are cooked in this way.

The eating of clams is an art in itself. A quart dish of the bivalves, shell and all, is placed before you, and with a pitcher of hot, melted butter, or something supposed to be that. Anyway it is hot, yellow and greasy. You pour out a little on your plate. Then you pick up a clam in the shell with your left hand - your left hand, remember - separate the shells and remove the ugly looking skin enveloping the head and neck, remove the clam with your other hand, holding the head and neck between the thumb and the forefinger, dip the clam in the hot yellow grease floating around on your plate and then gently insert it in your mouth - that is, all but the head and neck.

When you get as far as the neck you must bring your teeth together with considerable energy. This leaves the body of the clam in your mouth, and the neck and head outside, still between the thumb and the forefinger. A swallow - most people regard mastication in such cases as superfluous - and the deed is done. Down your throat has glided a whole dead clam - lungs, stomach, liver, gills and all, except the organs of the head and neck, that go to make up a first class, well regulated clam. Ugh!

As might be anticipated, it takes time to master this art, and nothing amuses a Rhode Islander more than to watch a novice eat clams. But sometimes the novice is so ignorant as to eat the clam's neck and head, and then the veteran clam eater is quite disgusted. The latter can swallow a clam's entrails without a shudder, but is scandalized at the spectacle of one's swallowing a clam's head.

If one wishes a genuine clam dinner he must come to Rhode Island, take a sail down the far famed Narragansett to some one of the beautiful summer resorts located on its shores, and seat himself in the big dining hall where he can inhale the cool, bracing breezes blowing up from the bay, and can feast his eyes upon the panorama of wave, rock and forest so inspiring to look upon. Then, and only then, can he partake of a Rhode Island clam dinner.

There are, indeed, many places in New England and other sections where "genuine Rhode Island clam dinners" are advertised, but I sound a solemn note of warning that all such affairs are frauds. The villains getting up these dinners don't know a clam from a quahog, and if the dinner itself was all right so far as the food is concerned these impostors couldn't serve Narragansett's breezes with it, nor the vision of Narragansett's loveliness.

Wilay C. Sheppard.