Text 26929, 124 rader
Skriven 2009-08-03 05:32:06 av Michael Loo (1:18/200.0)
Ärende: Sat clam crawl 964
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The Clean Dave clan showed up at 8:40 so we could do a big
shopping for the picnic. Off to Market Basket for numerous
wonderful things, some of which won't get used, owing to
time and stomach constraints. Ground pork and lettuce for
lettuce wraps (if you don't know, shame on you), coconut
milk for the putative cream of wheat dessert, the makings
of almond float (will maybe slice some previously bought
cherries to put on top), candied blueberries and raspberries,
some kind of Slovenian snack called something like Kroko Kroket.
More soft drinks. Some beef just in case we get the urge to
do something creative. Lots of fun. Then after dropping off the
grocs, off to Charlie's, which we hit at opening time.

Same cast as at the Chinese banquet Friday night: the 4 Sacs,
Fords, Shipps, Nancy and Donna, and me.

Charlie's is not in the best of neighborhoods, but at 11 in the
am it doesn't seem very daunting - not so many hookers, crack
addicts, and so on around. Anyhow, it has fast acquired the
reputation of offering some of the best seafood around, and on
Dave's and my reconnoiter for the Crawl it acquitted itself well.

We got a big box of clams and a jumbo combo platter, which was
a double portion of flounder, scallops, shrimp, clams, fries
and cole slaw (which I substituted with onion rings). All
were very good to excellent, though the shrimp had been
butterflied to make them look bigger and so were overcooked.
In addition Dave ordered a chowder and a stuffed clam; the
former was respectable if a little thick and starchy, but the
stuffie was just bread stuffing, with scant clam presence.
This was enough food for everyone, the fries and rings
holding people over enough to survive the next destination,
21 miles and 31 minutes away (I rode with Nancy and Donna
and took us past the picnic venue, just to familiarize them
with it, and it added 0.4 mi and 3 min, so we arrived within
moments of the GPS experts).

Farnham's is the local favorite for clams. Overlooked by the
historically informed Woodman's crowd and the Roadfood Clam
Box crowd, it is nicely situated; has fresh seafood nicely
prepared, a beer-and-wine license, and cute help; and is not
too awfully expensive - it was actually the second cheapest
place, the cheapest being Charlie's. On this occasion we got
a cod cheek plate, a large box of clams, and a medium size
box of shrimp. The cod cheeks were moist and delectable, the
clams quite good but a bit shrivelled, and the shrimp quite
wonderful. I had a Sam Light (pretty good) and took a pull of
Dave's Diet Moxie, which I found less bitter and more
licoricy than when I'd last had the stuff, back in the 1980s.

People asked for a respite from clams, so I suggested that
they go check out the artists' colony and boutique mecca
known as Rockport. It was everyone for himself on this one.
Nancy took Donna and me around to Rocky Neck and Eastern
Point; then we wasted some time waiting at Good Harbor Beach
for the people who ignored the "all parking lots full" sign
to turn in and take the whole circuit before leaving. We
ended up at Rockport after half past two, and we looked at
Motif for a while, drove to the end of Bearskin Neck just
for a quick look, and finally went through Pigeon Cove and
Annisquam back to 128, then 133, then up to the Clam Box,
via a drugstore to get bug bite stuff for Donna. I think we
were about last showing up, and I took Dale and Dave's place
in line, where Dale at least had been waiting for close to
half an hour. A somewhat shorter wait for me, as the earlier
wait had been exacerbated by the ritual Cleaning of the Oil
at 2:30. A slightly more modest order - clams and scallops -,
but a slightly more costly one. The clams (I specified big
belly ones) were, I thought, better than at Farnham's, but I
found the batter a little underseasoned; this was the only place
I actually saw fit to crack the salt. The scallops were big,
juicy, and extra fine. Oh, yes, Dave got a bacon cheeseburger
for Lynnie, who, not a great fan of seafood to begin with, was
very ODed on all things bivalvical; she pronounced it most
welcome and told him that she loved him.

Woodman's was our final stop. When we arrived, the place was
belching the fragrance of slightly old oil, but it was too
late to call everyone off, so I dutifully put in an order for
a big box of clams ($46.70, and they didn't overfill it the
way the other places did - this came to something like $2 a
clam). Meantime, Dave got a batch of steamers, $8/lb and a
regular bargain by comparison. I'd been excited to see a
sign that advertised lobster at $2.99, but closer inspection
spurred by Dave showed that that wasn't a dollar sign but a
1 in front of the 2. Consider that the going rate elsewhere
is $3.99 these days.

A little guilt in my black little heart as people were getting
really full, and I was the only one eager to chow down again;
some of the rest, being good sports, were willing to take a
taste in the interests of science. The bad news: the oil that
the clams had been boiled in was rancid; the good news: nobody
wanted to eat more than one. So after one clam apiece had been
distributed, Dave and I went up to the front in search of a
manager. The cashier was not surprised at all by our appearance:
she had some kid call for the boss, who didn't come and didn't
come. We thought perhaps it was a stall, but it turned out that
the kid's intercom was kaput. At length the guy came and heard
our tale of woe, and his first action was to taste a clam out
of our box. His second was to taste a second clam. I believe
that, unlike the hordes of palate-dead customers, he might have
really understood what we were saying, and after wrestling with
the cash register for a while, came back with $46.70 in cash
and a $25 gift certificate, so we promptly went upstairs to
the bar and cashed it on some beers. Dave and I had Sams; Burt
a cherry wheat; Shirley a Sam Summer. We also ordered some
raw bar, which took a while to come out, and when it did, half
the poor shellfish had been slashed to death. Fresh, though.

I forgot to mention that the steamers had been pretty good
if a little sandy.

The Shipps, having had enough, went home, and the rest of us
repaired to Cherry Farm Creamery, which has respectable ice
cream that almost rivals Richardson's. I had raspberry sorbet,
the only vitamins that anyone got all day.



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