September 14, 1989 - Mankind's Best Invention: The Clambake814 The Suffolk Times • September 14, 1989
Mankind's Best Invention: The Clambake
By Paul Stoutenburah
My first experience with any kind of
cookout was years ago when the gang
decided to go camping. We lived in an
area where there was nothing but sum-
mer bungalows and as a result during
the summertime there were lots of kids
around but during the winter there was
absolutely no one. It was these summer
kids I palled around with and went
camping with down on the Point. This
was a sandy spit of land that made an
ideal place for a bunch of noisy kids to
camp. Here we'd pitch our old puptents,
probably relics of some Dad's days in
the war, and we'd live the "rugged life."
It was the time when we'd go skinny
dipping at night and marvel at the phos-
phorescent jellies as we swam about.
There were two kinds: the tiny ones that
ran off your body when you stood up
and the big ones that glowed an eerie
greenish light when bumped. We'd
catch the large, glowing globs of jelly
and have fights with them, throwing
them back and forth with an occasional
contact that would do little harm. The
darker the night the better the phospho-
rescence could be seen, and on those oc-
casional pitch -black nights we'd look
like some creatures from another planet
as we came out of the water with the
tiny green glowing jellies running down
our chilly skinny bodies.
Then it would be a dash to the fireside
that had by now burned down. New
wood would soon have the campfire
blazing again and we'd stand around.
naked, drying off, for we never thought
to bring towels. It was the time when
sand got into everything. We never
wore shoes so had little trouble with
sand there but our clothes, our bedding
and our food always seemed to be
liberally sprinkled with sand.
Cooked To a Crisp
By now the "mickies" or potatoes
would be poked into a new position in
the fire or if done, rolled out of the fire
for eating. In those days there was no
such thing as aluminum foil that would
have prevented some of the sand from
getting into our precious mickies. Per-
haps, too, a little butter might have
made a more tasty potato. But no, our
mickies could hardly be told from the
charred wood that kept our night fire go-
ing. Some would be so well cooked that
they would be utterly useless but the
ones that were spared the inferno were
pulled apart and eaten. How good they
seemed in those early days. Steaming
IPA
Focus on
Nature
hot inside and charcoal black on the out-
side. We'd stand around the fire talking
boyish chatter as we ate them with our
hands, which were now getting blacker
and blacker.
Oftentimes we'd gotten clams out on
the sandbar just outside the creek. It was
a favorite spot for kids to play and we'd
always be looking for the right kind of
hole that told us there were clams be-
low. These would be either steamed in
the old camp pot or roasted alongside
the fire. The problem with those along-
side the fire was that they would get too
close and the shells would explode and
we'd have a liberal sprinkling of pieces
of clam shell. No matter, we'd eat them
and say they tasted great.
Probably a can of beans would be
opened and set alongside the blazing fire
to warm up. Then the sharp pointed
sticks that had previously been prepared
were speared through long and dangling
hot dogs. Our cooking of these limp
morsels soon turned them into a black
strip, juicy and crisp. They were a de-
light to eat.
For dessert, apples were always baked
on an old board close to the roaring
flames. Fires in those youthful days had
to be big and as a result everything was,
should we say, well done. The apples
would split and their juices run out and
if we thought to turn them we might
just get a completely baked apple but
more likely one side would be done and
the other wouldn't. No matter, it all
tasted good and the sand was hardly no-
ticed.
Later Clambakes Better
From those early cookouts we were
introduced to the real, authentic clam-
bakes that would occasionally be done
down at the Pequash Club. Here the
adults who were skilled in the art of
clambakes would dig out the old pit,
line it with rocks and put a combination
of seaweed and enough food to feed a
small army. Corn in the husk, potatoes,
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
CLAMBAKE — Anyone can have a clambake with some big pots and
the right ingredients. Here a family enjoys corn, potatoes, mussels, hot
dogs, chicken, crabs and, of course, clams.
UMB '
RESTAURANT�
Summer Dining
at the
Rhumb Line
Light meals when it's too hot
for heavy dining.
Fresh broiled seafood
Cold platters • Pasta salads
Frozen drinks
Open seven days a week.
Located in downtown Greenport
34 FRONT STREET, q ,RgjNPORT, +
77r94831
clams, chicken, and hot dogs, were the
staples with occasional crabs or other
delights that might be in season. Here
there were no burned, black morsels to
be found. Rather, when the great mound
was uncovered red crabs could be seen,
smoking corn and potatoes, well -done
chicken and hot dogs were all there to
be eaten. It was truly magic and we out-
siders could only marvel from a distance
at how wonderful things smelled and
looked as they were pulled out steaming
from the pit.
Later our own family would indulge
in many clambakes. Some on the beach
and others right in our own backyard.
The women work in the kitchen putting
together cheesecloth bags of chickens,
hot dogs, clams, mussels, potatoes,
perhaps crabs, corn and other ingredients
that make the most wonderful smells
imaginable. Then a bag for every person
to be fed is put in the top container to
steam and the whole thing covered for
cooking. I am told that the way you
know when everything is ready is when
the potatoes are poked to see if they are
done.
A Great Feast
What a feast! The chicken fell off the
bone, the hot dogs tasted especially fla-
vorful and the potatoes had that rare
taste that only the combined ingredients
of the pot could make. The clams were
all wide open and ready to be plucked
from their shells and dipped into the
butter, which was later used on the corn
and potatoes.
Our last clambake was just the other
day when friends on the water invited us
to join them and their family for a
beach clambake. All the ingredients of a
clambake were put into a big galvanized
washtub, including lobsters and soft
clams, the ultimate in seasoning. The
smoke from the fire drifted on the night
air and reminded me of those early
camping days, but today there'd be no
sand seasoning.
We'd eat on a neat wooden patio and
dine on dishes with knives and forks. I
might say everything tasted great and at
this stage of life the comfort of eating
in style was appreciated. After the meal
was over everyone went in swimming.
No skinny- dipping here but the
exhilaration of the water with the new
moon looking on was delightful.
Perhaps there is hope; even in our
modern way of life we can still go back
— not quite as far back as the good old
days — but back to clambakes.
MANHANSET AVE. at STIRLING HARBOR MARINA, GREENPORT, NY
Spanish Continental Cuisine
Daily Luncheon Specials
served Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday noon -2:30 $ 7r,
(No lunch Saturdays)
$ 7g Try our very special complete luncheon on Sundays
11 Complimentary glass of wine or sangria
Dinner served Friday and Saturday 5 -10 p.m.
Wednesday, Thursday, Sunday 5 -9 p.m.
Closed Monday
and Tuesday
For Reservations and
Information 477 -1777