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Dinner Update

Soooooo....last night, I am preparing to make some appetizers ahead of time when I discover a voice mail on my cell phone—the visiting drumming clinician is allergic to shell fish, and I have four pounds of mussels and four dozen clams waiting for me at the grocery store. They ordered them especially for me. The drummer is gracious, though, and does not want me to change plans at this stage. He'll be satisfied with the other things on the menu.

Well, that's a shame, but we'll all be flexible and move on. I go to the store to pick up my order, a day early because I want to get that errand out of the way. At the meat counter, I give the guy my name and tell him about my shell fish order, and he goes in the back to fetch it. When he comes back, he hoists this net sack of man-eating clams up on the counter, so heavy he practically groans with the weight—cherrystone clams. These are the largest clams I have ever seen in a domestic setting because I am accustomed to littleneck clams, but I have evidently ordered the wrong thing. I can't use these beasties in my clam bake. I could feed the entire cast of Beach Blanket Bingo with these things. AND the crew.

I am in a panic because I know close to nothing about cooking cherrystone clams, and I have this idea they aren't right for a big pot of stew. In a boil like this, you want bite-sized things, and you certainly do not want to have to cut a clam with a knife and fork. It would be like slicing raw liver soaked in egg whites on your plate. What to do. What to do. The guy agrees to hold them for me until this morning, which is good. That gives me enough time to come up with a plan.

So, here's the plan. I get online and read up on different kinds of clams and what they're good for, and I discover the bigger ones are perfect for chowder because you cut them up before hand. I find a great looking chowder recipe that calls for exactly four dozen cherrystones, so I'm in business. I don't think I'll have time to make the chowder today, but I can make it tomorrow, and in the mean time, I can drive frantically from store to store until I have gathered up enough littlenecks for my kitchen clam bake.

The moral of the story: pay attention to what you're ordering, and read every word of the recipe. And always have a Plan B.

Comments

dive said…
I hope you'll regale your guests with all of this, Robyn, so that they know what a heroic effort you have been making to feed them.
Good luck!
Quiskaeya said…
Great come back! Those recipes look oh-so yummy too. Thank you for stopping by my recipe exchange. It was the first time I've done it (kinda like a pilot) to see how well it would go over. I hope to make it a monthly thing.

btw-i really enjoy your blog!
You seem a little bit like Amelia Bedelia there Robyn.
goodness that'a a bit of a panic situation i must say. I would never attempt clams. Hope it all goes well, Robyn.
Alifan said…
Wow Robyn you are brave....sounds good though hope all goes well....

Glad you liked the Southwold walk Dive and I did today...
Anonymous said…
The real moral of the story is the dinner was wonderful. The food was delicious and beautifully displayed. Rob was a terrific hostess and husband tim was gracious. It was a great evening of food and fellowship. Rob has been kind enough to have done this for many years. I will miss this annual event when her youngest graduates from school. Thanks again rob!! Steve
"Grace under fire" - as always, Robyn.

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