It does rather seem like we've got water on the brain, doesn't it? Got invited to go clamming a little while ago and couldn't pass up the opportunity to get out of the house at 5:45 a.m. Hadn't been clamming for years and was pretty unprepared for what ensued (years of clamming in the warm, shallow waters of Mexico will do that). Drove up to Bodega Bay, rowed a little boat across the lagoon to the mud flats exposed by the super low tide and started the hunt. Early morning fog gave everything the quality of a lunar landscape.
Til now I'd never had to dig so much for one little clam.
I'd also never dug up anything that looked like that.
The keyhole shaped opening (hopefully) marks the descent of a nice, big Washington clam. There's also horsenecks and a whole bunch of smaller guys.
After you find the proper hole, you get to start the digging part. Most of them were down about a foot and a half, but you have to be careful not to crack the poor things with your shovel and smash their shells. Just because they're getting eaten doesn't mean they need to get beaten up beforehand...
My least favorite part: reaching in and pulling out the goods. It was inevitable that the first thing I touched every time was its long, slimy neck.
Clammers extraordinaire.
My ten big beautiful clams.
Pervert. Get your mind out of my clam.
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Clam on? We spent the day under the tutelage of Frank Quan, resident China Camp-er and knower of all things relating to the catching and eating of sea creatures, who took us up to Doran Regional Park and showed us the ropes. You need a fishing license to collect clams and there's regulations on how many you can take in a day. Once home, Frank showed us how to split them open, cut out the tasty bits and fry them up in panko bread crumbs. Tastiest 3 a.m. snack I've mustered in a long time.