Archive for the ‘Rhode Island’ Category

 

Growing up in New York, we just called them chili dogs. But when I moved to New England, they called them Coney Island dogs. Here in Rhode Island, they’re hot weiners. In fact, the Olneyville NY System restaurant has made it to “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives” with Guy Fieri, “Bizarre Foods” with Andrew Zimmern, and even won the 2014 James Beard Foundation America’s Classics Award.

A weiner. All that. Because it is all that.

Nothing beats going to the Olneyville NY System in lovely Olneyville, RI. But if you’re not fond of having your dogs lined all the way up the cook’s hairy arm…or if you’d rather just enjoy them at home…it’s really not that tough to do. You may not have the atmosphere that only a 70-year tradition can bring, but it’ll be pretty damn tasty nonetheless.

Of course, you can buy a packet of their special spices, but that’s cheating, isn’t it?

 

My chili sauce adds a few ingredients that you won’t find elsewhere. That’s OK. Yours should, too.

1 lb. ground beef (I use grass-fed beef, no leaner than 80/20)
2 strips bacon, finely chopped
1 can (28 oz.) whole tomatoes
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon dried onion flakes
1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic
1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon chile powder
8 hot dogs
8 hot dog buns
shredded cheddar cheese (optional)
chopped Vidalia onion (optional)
celery salt (optional)

I like to put the dog under the broiler to melt the cheese before I use the other toppings.

 

Leave the bacon grease left over from frying the bacon in the pan. Turn up the heat, add the ground beef and cook it all the way through, crumbling it up as much as you can. Add the chopped bacon to the pan and mix well.

In a large saucepan, pour in the can of tomatoes and chop them up with a spatula. Add the Worcestershire, onion flakes, garlic, mustard, black pepper, and chile powder. Mix well. Let it come to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low, and add the cooked beef and bacon to the sauce. Keep chopping and breaking down the tomatoes every time you stir the sauce. (A potato masher works well for this, too.)

Cover the pot and let it simmer for at least an hour, stirring often.

What kind of hot dogs you should use for this is a matter of personal preference. The folks at Olneyville use their own special brand of all-beef dog. I love the pork hot dogs I get when I go home to Long Island and stop by the Forest Pork Store in Huntington, NY. It’s yet another amazing food store where my Mom would always go to buy cold cuts, especially liverwurst, and their delicious hot dogs and cocktail franks. They’ve been in that location for a long time, and it’s a must-stop when I go home to visit my Mom.

Ultimately, you should pick the hot dog you like! Being a native New Yorker, if I don’t have any of the Forest Pork Store dogs in my freezer, I go to the supermarket and buy the foot-long dogs from Nathan’s. Classic!

Boil or steam the dogs, place them on the buns (On your arm or not is up to you! Don’t blame me for any third-degree burns!) And pour some of the chile sauce on top. Sprinkle some of the cheddar cheese on top, and put the sandwich under the broiler to melt the cheese.

Then add the chopped Vidalias, and celery salt (optional, but I use ’em both!)

 

 

I live one town over from Fall River, Massachusetts, and just down the road from New Bedford, Massachusetts, two thriving proud Portuguese communities. My daughter is in middle school, and she’s taking mandatory Portuguese language classes. We’ve got dozens of authentic Portuguese restaurants in the area, and even a well-stocked supermarket with its own bacalhau (salt cod) room: Portugalia Marketplace, in Fall River.

So when I first posted my recipe of Portuguese kale soup, I was told by many Portuguese friends that my soup wasn’t authentic so I couldn’t call it that. Fair enough. After all, my soup has far less carbs, fewer spices, and uses homemade stock instead of water. It may not be Portuguese, but it’s full of flavor.

My version of the classic Portuguese kale soup.

My version of the classic Portuguese kale soup.

4 cups home-made chicken or beef stock
4 cups water
1 cup lentils, rinsed in cold water
1 onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
2 stalks celery, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, through a press
1 lb. chourico, peeled and chopped into small cubes (I use Mello’s, out of Fall River, Mass.)
1 large bunch organic kale
salt and pepper

Add the stock and water to a large pot. Heat until boiling. Add the lentils.

In a saucepan with a little olive oil or bacon fat, saute the onions, carrots, celery, and garlic for a few minutes. Add the chopped chourico and saute a few minutes more. Add the contents of the saute pan in the pot.

Wash and de-stem the kale, tearing the leaves into smaller pieces. Add the leaves to the pot and stir. The stems go in your compost pile. (You can also use them in a juicer.)

Cook the soup until the lentils are al dente. Taste and season for salt and pepper before serving.

 

 

My Portuguese pal, Paula, has a great soup recipe that has been passed down from her Mom. Her Mom even adds chicken feet to the stock, which Paula chooses to leave out. Like most Portuguese soup recipes I’ve seen, there’s a ton of carbs: often potatoes with pasta with a lot of beans. But it is good!

Paula’s Portuguese Soup

3 cans garbanzo beans
2 cans white cannellini beans
1 can pink beans
1 fennel bulb
Large bunch of kale
5-6 potatoes
1 cabbage
2 sticks hot chourico
Beef ribs
1 cup dry macaroni (elbows)
Red crushed pepper wet-optional

Drain and puree 3 cans of garbanzo beans in a food processor. Put the puree in a large pot with about a gallon of water.  Chop the chourico, and add it to the puree along with the ribs. Boil for 20 minutes. Chop the fennel bulb and cabbage into 2 inch squares.  Add the fennel and cabbage to soup and boil for 30 minutes.  Add the chopped kale, and boil for 30 minutes. Add the cubed potatoes and before the potatoes are done, add the remaining drained cans of beans. Add macaroni and cook for a short time at the end.

Despite the large Italian community we have here in southern New England, there’s no exceptional pizza to speak of. I suppose you could say “them’s fightin’ words!” but if it’s here, I haven’t found it yet. (Fellini Pizza is about the best in Providence.)

So where is the excellent pizza? New York City, of course. OK…maybe I’m prejudiced because I’m a Brooklyn boy, and worked in a variety of pizzerias in my younger days, but there’s no doubt in my mind that if you want the best pizza–or bagel, for that matter–you’ve got to go to the Big Apple. (Even the most excellent “Frank Pepe’s” in New Haven, CT is a mere stop on the way to the real deal.)

Pizza in NYC can be confusing as there are many different varieties to choose from. Brick oven pizzas abound, but there are pizza lovers who won’t settle for anything less than a pizza baked in a coal-fired oven. The extremely high heat of a coal-fired oven cooks the pizza in just a minute, and imparts a crusty, charred flavor you can’t get any other way. There are only about a dozen coal-fired pizzerias in New York City, and many of them have been around for 100 years or more, so it’s definitely a matter of making a special trip to enjoy this style of pizza. (Providence now has its own coal-fired pizza, but it can’t compare.)

Plenty of good, basic pizza, too: the traditional thin, round Neopolitan pie, and the thicker, square Sicilian pie, baked in that Blodgett pizza oven we all knew in our early pizza-making days.

Several years ago, when I heard through the pizza lovers’ grapevine that a “new” pizza was out there, one that was gaining a cult following, I needed to know about it. And more importantly, I needed to taste it!

It’s called Pizza Montanara, and there’s only a few pizzerias in New York City that serve it. The one I go to without fail is PizzArte, on West 55th, and I have to say it’s the ultimate pizza.

 

Pizza Montanara, sitting next to me in the car, just waiting to be devoured.

 

What makes Pizza Montanara so spectacular, quite simply, is that the dough is fried in oil for 30 seconds, flipped and fried another 30 seconds, before they put the sauce and cheese on it, and then they cook it in a wood burning oven. It is not greasy. The frying process puffs the dough up and creates a beautiful pillow-like softness that I’ve never experienced in a pizza before. Imagine a pizza cloud and you’ve got Pizza Montanara.

Where to get Pizza Montanara.

 

I’ve made Pizza Montanara at home, with some success. I poured a few inches of olive oil in a large skillet, stretched my dough into a small pie, and gently floated it into the pan. Using a spatula and tongs, I was able to flip the fried dough over after about 30 seconds, then removed it from the pan after another 30 seconds. It was golden and puffy. I quickly sauced and cheesed it and in the oven it went. But it’s a messy process I’d rather leave to the pros.

 

Every time I post a photo of Pizza Montanara on Facebook or Instagram, my friends don’t believe that this could possibly be a life-changing pizza experience. It is. I just came back from Manhattan, and we devoured 3 pizzas on the ride home. Nothing makes New York traffic easier to bear than a Pizza Montanara in the seat next to you!

Pizza Arte also makes one helluva gluten-free pizza.

 

 

So I’m watching a video of Andrew Zimmern grilling chicken wings using an apricot-mustard glaze after he marinated them in yogurt and threw them on a hot grill. They looked amazing. But I had ribs already thawed in my fridge (Curve ball 1).  I thought: How bad could this recipe be on pork? I gave it a shot.

Apricot-mustard glaze…
1/2 cup apricot preserves
1/2 cup mustard (I used Gulden’s, but Dijon works well, too)

Combine the ingredients in a bowl, whisking them together. Set it aside.

 

I got a large bowl out, and cut the ribs into smaller pieces, about 3 ribs per piece. I placed them in the bowl, threw in about a 1/2 cup of plain yogurt, and mixed it around until all sides of the ribs were coated. I let the ribs stand this way at room temperature for about an hour, while I headed to the grill to set it up.

 

The plan was to light a decent amount of coals that would ash over and then be pushed to one side of the grill, placing the ribs over indirect heat on the other side. They would cook this way until done, with a nice grilled smokey char on the edges.

 

That’s the little mouse home on the left.

Unfortunately, when I opened my grill, I found that a family of mice had made themselves a happy home inside my grill, and I didn’t have the heart to toss them out, babies and all. (Curve ball 2.)  So I needed to find another way to cook the ribs. I headed to my smoker.

I have an electric digital smoker, which allows me to set the temperature and basically walk away, only returning to add smoking chips every hour so. I set the temperature to 275 degrees.

 

I removed the ribs from the bowl, placing them on a cutting board, sprinkling one seasoning on half the ribs, and another seasoning on the other half. The first half got my favorite basic seasoning: Lawry’s Seasoned Salt. The second half received my favorite Cajun seasoning: Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning. The ribs went into the smoker for about 2 hours.

 

I thought I would smoke the ribs longer than 2 hours, but then I realized it would soon be time to pick my daughter up from school and take her to guitar lessons. (Curve ball 3.)

 

Out of the smoker.

I took the ribs out of the smoker, one half batch at a time, and placed them under the broiler of my toaster oven, flipping them over once I saw the edges of the ribs get nice and dark. This gave them a bit of that char I was looking for that the grill would’ve given me…had I not had a family of mice in my way!

 

After a few minutes under the broiler.

After broiling the ribs on both sides, I placed them in aluminum foil, brushing them on both sides with the apricot-mustard glaze, wrapping the aluminum tightly around them in 2 packages. I placed them on a baking sheet and into a pre-heated 175-degree oven.

 

Tightly wrapped and into the oven they go.

The low temperature in the oven would continue to cook the ribs low and slow, and the glaze would add a little steam to make them tender, and hopefully, delicious. Off to school and guitar lessons I went.

 

Unwrapping the ribs after a few hours.

We returned a few hours later, and I placed the sheet pan with the ribs on the top of the stove to cool for a bit, allowing the ribs to rest.

 

One of each: with Lawry’s and Tony Chachere’s.

Using a bit more of the apricot-mustard glaze, I brushed the ribs one more time and placed them under the broiler one last time before feasting. It was worth that extra effort to get them nice and caramelized.

The final verdict: They came out great, but I preferred the ribs seasoned with Tony Cachere’s better. The Cajun seasoning added a nice kick of heat to counterbalance the sweetness of the apricot-mustard glaze.

Those of us that live in New England understand the magnificence that is a fresh lobster. Nothing beats a Maine lobster pulled right out of the water, placed in a pot of boiling water, and devoured moments later with nothing but melted butter on the side.

 

 

I live in Rhode Island. Our waters are a bit warmer than Maine’s, but my friends at Sakonnet Lobster in Little Compton, literally footsteps from our rental home, Saule (www.sauleri.com…go to Homeaway.com listing #4711871) have the freshest lobster around.

 

At a recent gathering at our house, I fired up my brand new 200,000 BTU burner and grabbed my 82-quart lobster pot to cook a dozen lobsters.

An 82-quart pot means business!

 

Many people will argue that steaming lobsters is better than boiling them. I don’t find that to be true, certainly from the perspective of ease of cooking or the taste of the final product. Baked stuffed lobsters are delicious, but that’s a subject for a different time.

 

Using the outdoor burner method has several advantages. First, all the mess and smell stays out of the kitchen. Clean-up is much easier. Second, when cooking lobsters for a lot of people, the burners on the kitchen stove just don’t have what it takes to boil the water. And third, this method requires no back-breaking lifting of heavy pots full of water.

My buddy, Lee, has a PhD in Chemistry, and has been a lobster lover all his life. With a home in Maine now, he knows a thing or two about cooking lobster. Here’s his fool-proof formula…

Bring the pot of water to a full vigorous boil.
Keeping the flame on high, add the lobsters, which will quench the boil for a few minutes.
Cook for 17 minutes for the first pound + 1 minute per each additional pound of lobsters added. (For example, cooking four 1.25 lb lobsters = 21 minutes.)
The water soon comes back to a full boil and you can reduce heat slightly to avoid boil over.

 

 

Experienced lobster boilers will tell you that this cooking formula is pretty accurate, but you do have to adjust the time if the water doesn’t come back to the boil as quickly as you’d like. The lobsters are still cooking even if the water isn’t boiling. If you’ve got an overcrowded pot, you might need to cook things a little longer. An emptier pot: a little less. Play it by ear.

 

To those that get queasy when it comes to cooking lobsters, there are several ways to kill a lobster before it goes into the pot: Some people put them in the freezer to numb them. Others use a sharp knife and cut down right between the eyes. Some do both. Although people constantly argue about whether lobsters can feel pain or not, my scientist friends assure me that a lobster’s nervous system is no more complicated than an insect’s. Dropping them head-first into a pot of boiling water is the fastest, most humane way of killing them. And they don’t “scream.” That’s just air escaping from the body cavity.

 

Good to remember: if you overcook the lobster a little, no harm done. But if you undercook it, it’s pretty nasty.

 

 

All I need on the side is some melted salted butter.

 

Nothing says summer here in New England like a lobster roll. But I don’t go to a clam shack to get one. The prices are ridiculous, the meat can be overcooked, and they often add ingredients I don’t want.

I start with fresh lobster. I get it from my lobster man buddy, Gary, just down the street at his dock in Tiverton, RI. Gary’s brother runs the Sakonnet Lobster Company on Sakonnet Point in Little Compton, RI. It’s just steps away from Saule, our rental property. (Check it out at http://www.sauleri.com)

 

A view of the Sakonnet River from the back of Gary's lobster boat, the Edna Mae

A view of the Sakonnet River from the back of Gary’s lobster boat, the Edna Mae

 

Once you’ve bought your live lobster, the next step is to cook it right. Some people steam and some people boil. I’ve always been a boiler myself. I fill a large pot half way-to-2/3’s with water and add sea salt. I bring it to a rolling boil before the lobsters go in. And then I do the math…

I boil my lobsters for 10 minutes per pound, for the first pound. Then I add 3 minutes per pound for each additional pound thereafter. For example, a 2 pound lobster should boil for 13 minutes and a 1 1/2 pound lobster should boil for 11 1/2 minutes. These times are for hard shell lobsters, if cooking new shell (soft shell lobsters) reduce the boiling time by three minutes.

 

Lobster catch LTL

 

A larger lobster is not always better. My uncle used to buy the largest lobster he could find, and it was impressive when he placed at the center of the dinner table. But the meat was like rubber. And personally, I felt bad for the old lobster that made it that far in life. His last days should’ve be in the ocean, not on a plate.

My maximum lobster size is 2 lbs. At that weight, you have the perfect ratio of meat-to-shell…with lots of delicious meat that is still sweet and tender. It’s perfect.

After the lobsters have been removed from the pot and have cooled for a few minutes, I get to work: cracking the claws and tail and removing every bit of beautiful meat I can find. Lobster lovers will tell you that the legs have some meat in them and that the tomalley (the green liver and pancreas) and roe (eggs) are delicacies not to be missed. For the purpose of making lobster salad, I don’t use these parts. But I do save the tomalley and roe for a separate treat…and I save all the legs and cleaned empty shells for lobster stock.

Cleaning lobster legs is easy: simply remove all the legs from the body and place them flat on a cutting board. Grab a rolling-pin, and one at a time, roll the pin over the lobster legs, starting at the claw end and working your way up. Like a tube of toothpaste, the meat will squeeze right out of the leg!

 

Lobster roll LTL

 

Now for the important stuff. What goes in a lobster roll, and more importantly, what doesn’t… I have very strong opinions in this matter.

First, there should NEVER be anything green in a lobster roll! No celery, no pickle, and it certainly shouldn’t be sitting on a lettuce leaf!

No paprika or Old Bay seasoning. A pinch of celery salt? Sure. Mayonnaise? Only Hellman’s. White pepper, not black, and just a touch. Salt? A pinch of Fleur de Sel. And the secret weapon to bring out all the flavors: the tiniest squeeze of fresh lemon juice…not enough to give it a lemon flavor…just to brighten the taste.

As for the roll, I prefer those long Martin’s potato rolls: soft and squishy straight out of the bag or for extra decadence: lightly grilled with a little melted butter brushed on.

 

A while ago, we were invited to a very cool retro summer party: cocktails and appetizers from the 60’s, and everyone contributed to the music by bringing in their favorite songs on vinyl. (I brought in a copy of the First Edition’s “Just Dropped In (to See What Condition My Condition Was In)” featuring a very young Kenny Rogers. Very trippy.

We were also asked to contribute to the apps, so we brought waffle chips with clam dip. Clam dip is a classic, and it’s really easy to make. And the bowl was practically licked clean by our party-going friends!

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2 8-oz. packages cream cheese, softened
3 6-oz. cans of chopped clams, drained, liquid reserved from one can
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Combine all the ingredients, except the clam liquid, in a bowl and mix well with a fork.

Add 1 tablespoon of the clam liquid and mix well. Keep adding the clam liquid until the dip reaches a consistency you like.

Serve with potato chips.

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When asparagus is in season, it’s time to gorge. I’ve got it growing in my yard, and the patch gets bigger and happier every year with minimal maintenance…definitely one of those veggies every lazy gardener should grow.

I love it raw, chopped into salads, pickled, oven-roasted, and in pasta dishes. This is a great side dish with any main course slab of meat.

 

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1 lb. fresh asparagus spears
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
salt and pepper

The easy way to trim asparagus spears is to grab the thicker end between two fingers and bend it. It will snap at the point where the tough part ends and the softer, edible part begins. Toss the bottoms into your compost pile.

Heat the butter and oil in a pan and then add the asparagus spears. Cook over medium heat for about 5 minutes, until al dente. You don’t want them mushy.

While the asparagus is still in the pan, sprinkle the Parmigiano Reggiano on top, letting it melt a bit. Season with salt and pepper.

That’s it! With fresh garden asparagus, it’s all you need! I ate this batch right out of the pan!

 

 

This past weekend, I was at the annual Providence Art Club Founder’s Day celebration, raising a glass in their honor. And I was again asked to create the drink we toasted the evening with!

First, some history…

The Providence Art Club is the third-oldest art club in the United States. The Philadelphia Sketch Club was founded in 1860. New York’s Salmagundi Club, founded in 1871, came next. But they were both founded by an all-male board. The Providence Art Club is the oldest art club in the nation that also included women. And that was back in 1880! That’s especially huge when you see what’s going on in our country even today…and it’s even more special to me because my wife was elected president of the Providence Art Club  last year, making her only the second woman to hold that post in the club’s history!

 

 

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Several years ago, they asked me to come up with a cocktail for their first Founders Day celebration. One hundred glasses were raised to honor the founding fathers of the Providence Art Club.

Silhouettes of past art club founders, influential members, and presidents line the walls of the Providence Art Club, so my wife came up with the name of the cocktail: The Silhouette. Little did she know that her own silhouette would grace the hallowed walls of the Providence Art Club this year!
In the past, I based my Silhouette cocktail on the Boulevardier, a delicious but strong drink that substitutes bourbon for gin in the classic Negroni. (See the recipe at the bottom of this page.)
But with my wife’s election as the new president at the art club, I thought a new Silhouette was in order, too…and it’s my own recipe for a cocktail I’ve made for many years. I call it Velvet Elvis. Keeping the silhouette theme, we decided to call it The Velvet Silhouette for this Founders’ Day celebration.
The Velvet Silhouette is my version of a fresh pineapple-infused vanilla vodka. (I use Stoli Vanil.) Here’s how it’s done…
Get a gallon-sized glass jar with a lid. Peel, core and slice the pineapple, and place all the pieces in the jar.
Pour in one 1.75l bottle of Stoli Vanil. Swirl to mix, then screw the lid on and keep the jar at room temperature for 3 weeks.
After 3 weeks, strain the liquid, making sure to squeeze out as much as you can from the pineapple pieces. Discard the pineapple and keep the Velvet Silhouette in the fridge until ready to serve. Serve it on the rocks, or as a martini, shaken in a cocktail shaker with ice.

Toasting at the Providence Art Club with the Velvet Silhouette.

 

The original Silhouette was mighty tasty, but a bit too strong for some of the senior art club members. Nonetheless, a favorite of mine. Here’s the recipe…
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2 oz. Eagle Rare 10-year bourbon
1 oz. Antica Formula sweet vermouth
1/2 oz. Campari
2 shakes Regan’s orange bitters

In a cocktail shaker with ice, stir the ingredients and then strain into a rocks glass with one large ice-cube.

Garnish with an orange twist.

Cheers!

Stuffies, or stuffed clams, are a very personal matter here in Southern New England. There are as many stuffies recipes as there are chowder recipes, and everyone thinks they’ve got the best one. Most stuffies that I’ve had in restaurants, like most meatballs I’ve had, have too much bread and not enough of the good stuff.

 

I use medium-sized clams for this recipe and not the traditional quahog, a large clam often used in chowders that I find to be too chewy. Dropping the clams in hot water in the beginning helps make opening the clams a lot easier.

 

Just 30 seconds in boiling water is all it takes.

 

This recipe requires quite a bit of fresh sage, which can be expensive off-season. I grow sage in my garden, then snip a ton of it at the end of the growing season, placing it in freezer bags and squeezing all the air out. I will even measure out 1 1/4 cups of fresh sage leaves (what I need for each batch), then place that amount in the freezer bag, so I don’t need to measure later.

 

Freezing the sage makes it easier to chop finely later on.

 

I use Portuguese chourico (since I live near Fall River and New Bedford, Massachusetts, the Portuguese capitals of America), and I think their flavor is best.

This recipe makes a lot of stuffies, but they freeze well so you can have them when you want.

This recipe is gluten-free…and you’ll never be able to tell the difference! But if that doesn’t matter to you, use toasted Portuguese bread instead of gluten-free bread.

 

stuffies

 

 

4 dozen medium neck clams
1.5 pounds chopped chourico, skin removed (I use Mello’s from Fall River, Mass.)
3 onions, finely chopped
3 tablespoons garlic, finely chopped
3 cups frozen or fresh corn kernels
3 cups toasted and coarsely ground bread (I use Udi’s Soft & Hearty Whole Grain bread to keep it gluten-free)
3/4 cup chopped fresh oregano (or 1 tablespoon dried)
1 1/4 cups chopped fresh sage (don’t use dried)
Salt and pepper
Butter
Sambal chili paste
Mayonnaise

In a large pot of boiling water, drop the clams in, about a dozen at a time. Remove them after about 30 seconds, before they open. Place them in a bowl to cool. Do this with all the clams.

Open the clams with a clam knife over a bowl with a strainer, making sure you save all the liquid from the clams. Put the clam shells to the side. Throw away any broken shells, and wash the empty shell halves thoroughly, making sure there are no broken pieces.

 

I use a strainer to keep the sediment away from the clam meats.

 

Take the clam meat pieces out of the strainer, leaving the clam juice behind in the bowl. Move the clam meat to a cutting board or food processor and chop them to medium-fine. Set them aside.

I pour the clam juices carefully from the bowl to tall drinking glasses, being careful not to let the sediment get in. Then, after some time, I pour off the clam juice from the glasses, leaving even more of the sediments behind. I find that the tall glasses make it easier to see the sediments, and maximize the amount of clam juice I get.

 

I let the clam juices sit in their tall glasses for a while, so that even more sediments get left behind.

 

In a large frying pan, add the olive oil, onions, and chourico and cook them on medium heat for a few minutes. Add the oregano and sage and cook a few more minutes. Add the corn and cook a few more minutes, a little more if the corn was frozen. Add the chopped clams and stir, cooking for a few more minutes. Add the breadcrumbs a little at a time until you have a nice balance of bread and other ingredients. Add the clam juice a little at a time as well, so that you can add all the breadcrumbs, but the mix isn’t runny. There’s lots of flavor in the clam juice, so use as much as you can! Season it all with salt and pepper.

Remove the pan from the heat and fill the empty clam shells with the stuffing.

At this point, you can freeze the clams. I put them on small sheet pans in the freezer until they harden, then I wrap them 6 at a time, and put them in freezer bags. Keep them frozen!

 

Ready for the freezer!

 

To make the aioli, mix the mayonnaise and Sambal in a bowl, to taste. Sambal is hot, so a little goes a long way. Keep it covered and refrigerated.

 

When you’re ready to bake, remove the clams from the freezer and place them on a sheet pan in a pre-heated 350 degree oven. Top each clam with a small ¼” square piece of butter. Bake them about 15 minutes, until the clams are sizzling and light brown. Top each with a small dab of aioli.