At Flo's, the patient are rewarded. We queued up outside for more than 40 minutes to place our orders at a window. But soon after we had ordered and found a table, we were rewarded with the ocean's bounty, more often than not deep-fried into submission.
Naturally, we kept the clam quotient high. In addition to fried clams, we tried Flo's chowder, which was made the Rhode Island way - neither creamy, as New England clam chowders usually are, nor with a tomato base, like so-called Manhattan clam chowders. As per the state preference, Flo's tasty and toothsome chowder boasts a clear broth, or at most a broth thickened by longcooked potatoes. Above all, there's no distraction from the flavour and texture of the toothsome clams.
At Flo's we also tried two other variations on clams, the fabled "stuffie" and the much-loved clam cake. A stuffie consists of a fist-sized Quahog clam, held shut at Flo's by a rubber band. Break the seal and you find inside an orange, slightly spicy mass of bread, ground clams and spicy sausage. It was pasty, with a kick to it, a less posh version of Clams Casino, another Rhode Island invention that uses smaller clams and adds a bacon topping. As for clam cakes, they are more like doughy, deep-fried fritters, and not at all like pan-fried crab cakes.
A more reasonable crowd might have stopped there. But we also dug into the fisherman platter's fried fish, fried calamari, fried shrimps and fried scallops. After all, you work up an appetite listening to jazz all day.
Having sampled clams deep-fried in batter, ground up and baked in dough, stewed in soup and straight from the shell, I still felt that I had missed out on something. Yes, steamed clams (also known as "steamers" in Rhode Island parlance). They would have to wait until Sunday night, after the day's big helping of jazz, which only sounded better after another visit to the Matunuck Oyster Bar for a superior, lunchtime lobster roll that was meaty, flavourful and not overly sauced.
Jazzed out, we ordered steamed littlenecks at the Brick Alley Pub and Restaurant, a bric-a-brac-festooned venue on Thames Street, one of Newport's main drags. We hoped the shareable appetizer would measure up to the menu's impressive boast: "The 50th anniversary issue of Bon Appétit named Brick Alley's Portuguese clams one of the 13 best recipes in the history of the magazine."
Of all the weekend's clam dishes, the big bowl of steamed littlenecks was both the prettiest and tastiest. A dozen or so clams swam in a potent broth of white wine, garlic and olive oil, adorned with bits of onion, green and red peppers and chorizo. The clams were plump and irresistible, and our server was right to exhort us to mop up the broth with our bread.
At some point during this meal, I learned that I'd missed out on the fine wood-oven-baked clam pizza sold by another vendor at the jazz festival. You cannot imagine my disappointment.
Consolation came the next day during my whirlwind diner tour of Rhode Island as part of my return trip to Ottawa. (I can heartily recommend the scenic route through the Adirondacks in New York State, bypassing Boston and Montreal.)
I drove to Pawtucket, Rhode Island, home of the Modern Diner, a simulated railway car built seven decades ago. I was glad to snap a photo of the first American diner to be listed on the U.S. National Historic Register. It's a pretty, nostalgic sight - but it wasn't where I wanted to have breakfast.
Instead, because I wanted to meet its gregarious owner, I opted for the nearby Connie and Nikki's Restaurant and Creamery. (A creamery, by the way, is what we would call a dairy bar.) There, Connie Dernikos has held court for three decades. While the Modern Diner's interior is sleek and rounded, Connie's is a modest, three-decade-old little box that is charmingly cluttered with Coca-Cola memorabilia. |
發表於 2011-9-15 06:55
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