3 of a kind

     While in Boston I had clam chowder, a lot of clam chowder.  And of course the preferred version there is the creamy New England style.  Unfortunately most of the chowder I consumed wasn't particularly memorable.  I understand that it is difficult to keep something like that fresh when it is simmered all day on the stove to be ready to serve at a moment's notice.  Real, authentic clam chowder takes time and needs to be made with fresh, not canned, ingredients.  Much of what I had was a poor imitation of the real thing, using pre-cut frozen potatoes and minced clams that hadn't been near the ocean for months, if not years.  The clam broth probably came out of a bottle, too.  And to add insult to injury more than one bowl had way too much flour as a thickening agent which strangled the essential flavor of the soup.

     Real clam chowder is made with only live hard shell clams that have been steamed to provide both a briny broth and tender, succulent clams.  Likewise, the onions, potatoes and salt pork (or bacon) should always be right from the market.  That way they naturally become thickening agents without having to resort to things like flour or cornstarch.

     While purists claim that the creamy New England chowder is the one and only, further south down the coast others opt for the tomato based Manhattan style.  It also commences with clam broth but then introduces tomatoes, oregano and crushed red pepper flakes into the mix, evidence of a Mediterranean influence.  Noted chef and food author James Beard is quoted as saying this on the subject, "...that rather horrendous soup called Manhattan clam chowder...resembles a vegetable soup that accidentally had some clams dropped into it."  And so the debate rages on.

 

     But there is also a third variety of clam chowder that doesn't employ either cream or tomato.  Rhode Island clam chowder is clear brothed and the least common but perhaps the most authentic of the earliest types of chowder.  It captures the essence of the clams and has nothing to mask the fresh sea flavors.

     It rained most of the day here on Friday.  It was a perfect day to make soup.  I pulled out my recipe for Rhode Island chowder and spent the morning in the kitchen slicing and dicing as my bread machine worked its magic with a loaf of another New England classic, Anadama bread.  The result was rewarding.  The chowder made a warming meal for friends and family.