Digging for Clams in the Long Island Sound
Why did I expect to dig in sand? Clams grow in mud
For years, I’ve watched seagulls drop clams on the rocks of a New England coastline, then dive into the shells to gulp down dinner and I have returned to Donovan’s in South Norwalk for the same, only in the form of chowder, but only recently have I had the experience of digging my own clams out of the Long Island Sound.
Permits are required to harvest clams, so check with each state and town to see what is needed before you head down to the beach.
Also, local towns restrict shellfishing if the water quality is compromised, so it is a good idea to check with local municipalities before you start.
These bivalve mollusks are simple lumps of tasty, chewy muscle that in New England tend to be the quahog variety. There are numerous varieties found in different regions of the world — in Washington state the Nisqually is found, in California there is the Chumash.
All clams are enclosed in two equal-sized ribbed shells and are notorious for filtering water. Some are freshwater, but the quahogs we sought were lodged a few inches into the mud flats of the Long Island Sound.
I thought I knew how to dig for clams, since I had read the Robert McCloskey book “One Morning In Maine” as a child.
You can watch a reading here:
Little did I realize, the process is different according to the shoreline.
We did not take a rake.
I followed my friend out into chest deep water once the tide had gone out.
“Feel my foot,” he said after creeping along for a bit.
I put my foot next to his and could feel the ribbed edges of a clam shell, half buried in the mud.
I mistakenly thought clams were in sand and the floor felt like velvet on my feet, so soft and smooth.
Oh no, it was mud. A rich, deep thick mud.
My friend dove under and plucked the clam holding it aloft with a small clump of mud still clinging to the shell.
My Own Technique
I inched along for awhile, my feet feeling the smooth surface and occasionally finding something else — a rock, a different shell, until voila! my foot struck the unmistakeable ribs of a half-buried clam.
I tried diving down, but lost track of it in the dark waters.
I came up sputtering and frustrated. He made it look easy!
It was then that I decided to let my feet do all the work. The next time I found a clam, I worked my big toe all the way around it, loosening the mud to free as much of it as possible.
Then, I carefully brought my other foot as close as possible and clenched the clam between both feet.
Slowly and carefully I raised the clam between my feet, bending my knees and reaching down to grab it as my head dropped to my ears in the water, turning my face skyward to keep my body upright.
Yes! I had dug my first clam. More followed once I perfected my technique.
I found more close to a crop of larger rocks. They must have gotten wedged in as the tide pulled out, but there was a group of 5 or 6 dug in together in a few places.
I dropped each into a net bag I carried throughout the process.
We were in the water for about 45 minutes. It was reasonably calm and there was an egret on shore, watching us.
It took off and we watched it fly.
The water was cool and the rocks we climbed out on were covered with strips of brown and green seaweed. My guide cautioned me away from the oysters clinging to the edges of the rocks; they could cut bare feet. We climbed out clutching our net bags of bounty.
The Adventure Continues in the Kitchen
We carried our bags home and rinsed them off in the sink. I placed mine in a bowl in the refrigerator with salted water, changing it every day for two days.
After a day or two, I placed a few in a sauté pan and added an inch of water, letting it boil and steam for about 5 minutes. Each one opened to a beautiful lunch when dipped in melted butter.
I saved the clam broth, straining it through paper towels in a colander and steamed the remainder to make a Manhattan chowder, adding fresh tomatoes, potatoes, carrots and a hint of red pepper.
Digging for clams is an adventure that is multiplied in the kitchen.
Enjoy this delicacy whether you dig your own or simply appreciate those that do it for you.
