October 19, 1977

Ohio Clam Bake Mighty Good

While brooding recently over a lettuce and cucumber salad - my ration for the day following our bridge club's annual clam bake - I recalled that I had not yet fulfilled my solemn promise to reveal to a new generation the secret recipe for an Ohio clam bake.

It must be admitted that historically the folks living along the New England coast line have had a lock on the clam bake fun.  When those New Englanders came to Ohio to populate the Western Reserve, however, they brought their taste for lobsters, clams and limp sea weed with them.

Their yearning had to lie dormant until the Wright brothers of Dayton - perhaps drooling over the prospect - invented the airplane with which perishable sea foods could be whisked to land locked mid-westerners.

So the clam bake found a firm foothold in Buckeye Country - only the cooking process was modified to shorten the time from packing to eating.  The New Englander fusses for three hours or more digging holes, heating rocks, covering with sea weed and building sand castles while he waits for faint heat to seep through his seafood heap.

The much more practical Ohioan loads his goodies into a new garbage can, pours in a pint of fresh water for each person to be served and lets steam do the job in less than an hour.

A couple of years ago I had the pleasure of vacationing with Ohio friends on the Connecticut sea shore.  All of us had been looking forward to an authentic New England clam bake a la the pit and hot stones.  Cold and rain nearly every day led us to postpone the great event for more favorable weather.  Finally we arrived at our last day with the weather the same and our last opportunity for a clam bake at hand.

The prolonged, leisurely approach was too risky so we decided to fall back on our tried and true "Ohio steamer."  We bought a new garbage can and a spare lid from a can the next size smaller.  We bored a large number of quarter-inch holes in the small lid and four holes in the steamer top.

The small lid was forced down into the large can to form a perforated, false bottom.  Then our clams and other ingredients were properly arranged in the remaining space.

The bake was accomplished in between down pours and was thoroughly delicious.  Our neighbors, local to the area, watched the whole procedure in utter amazement.  One Yankee opined, "It's alright, I guess, if you like raw lobsters."

We offered a few clams to the Doubting Thomases, and they reluctantly admitted they were good.

A few months later one of the neighbors wrote to give us some news and closed with the following line, "Everybody here still talks about your garbage-can clam bake.  We have the steamer in our garage.  Occasionally we all go out and look at it and laugh at those crazy Buckeyes."

Like most good things in life, the Ohio clam bake is simply constructed.

Starting from the bottom up, in the steamer described above, lay down these luscious layers: kelp sea weed, live lobsters, pre-baked chickens, seaweed, fresh corn, pre-baked yams, seaweed, clams in a gauze sack, seaweed.  Most fish markets throw in seaweed when you order lobster.

Next, pour in the fresh water.  I also rinse off the seaweed, clams and lobsters in fresh water to clean them and reduce the salt content of the broth which collects in the false bottom of the steamer.

Finally pour the broth and fat from the previous chicken roasting over the top layer of seaweed.

Place the steamer on two concrete blocks and build a hot fire under the can.  Watch carefully for steam coming through the top holes.  When the steam has built to a slight pressure so that it comes out of the top holes as a continuous small jet, rather than wisps, then start to time the cooking.  In exactly 20 minutes from jet start, take off the fire and unload - eating from the top down.  Hey, you, not the seaweed!

When you reach the false bottom, remove it and pour off and savor the brown soup below.  It's clam juice and lobster juice and chicken juice.  U-m-m-m.

If possible, get "little neck clams" as they are the only ones both tender and sweet.  Almost the entire supply of this delicacy is gobbled up by Easterners and little of it finds its way west of the Appalachians.  Mostly the East Coast exports the "quahog" which is flavorsome but similar in texture to Naugahyde.

A fitting dessert to a clam bake is the traditional "Indian Pudding."  It's something you wouldn't relish the other 364 days of the year, but just seems to hit the spot after a clam bake.  Essentially it is a corn meal and molasses concoction invented by the Pilgrims.  Here's how to make it:

1.  Preheat oven to 300 degrees.  Combine 1 cup milk and one-third cup yellow cornmeal in small bowl.  Let stand.

2.  In medium saucepan, slowly heat 3 cups milk until bubbles form around edge of pan.

3.  Gradually stir cornmeal mixture into hot milk.  Cook, stirring over medium heat 10 minutes.

4.  Add two tablespoons butter, ¼ cup brown sugar, ¼ cup molasses, and ½ teaspoon each of salt, ginger and cinnamon.  Stir just until butter is melted.

5.  Turn into un-greased casserole and bake two and a half hours.  Makes six portions.

Serve this spicy, moist cake with French vanilla ice-cream.  The ice-cream would have amazed the Pilgrims, but it reduces the strong spice taste of the pudding and adds a rich, creamy taste.  Sliced apples and-or raisins can be added at step four to give the pudding additional appeal.

Now you know all the secrets of a bake master.  If you try and enjoy this fun food you assume the obligation of passing along the recipe to the uninitiated.  The penalty for failing your responsibility to mankind is a life time of heart burn.

Author: Lindsey Williams