The first week of 2022, my boy came home from school and announced: “I’m becoming a pescatarian,” and then paused for effect. He was a few weeks away from his ninth birthday, and we’d been down this road before. A few years back it was an attempt to go full-on vegetarian, a run that lasted all of a week and a half and was stymied, as is usually the case, by bacon.
“Oh really?” I asked, unconvinced. “What’s the inspiration?”
“S. is going vegetarian for the new year, so I figured I would too. Except I don’t have a problem eating fish.”
The logistics would not be much of an issue. Our oldest daughter has been an unflagging vegetarian for nearly four years, and we’ve all slowly drifted toward a more plant-based existence. When my son made this announcement, his sister had just returned to school, and we were thinking about braising a big pot of pork paprika…but apparently the universe had other plans. Instead, we pulled together an emergency “Sahadi’s night,” a thing in our family that involves picking up middle eastern prepared foods from a favorite market and making a big Greek-ish salad to go alongside it.
“How’d it go with the pescatarianism?” I asked him the next night at dinner.
“Great,” he said. “Except they had hotdogs in the cafeteria and they smelled soooo good. I was almost tempted.”
“Gross,” said his 15-year-old sister.
“And S.?”
“Still goin’.”
On the third day, my son came home and announced that his friend S., erstwhile vegetarian, had lapsed.
“What did it?” I asked.
“They had pulled pork in the cafeteria and he couldn’t stand the temptation. ‘I just gotta!’ he said.”
“And you?”
“Oh, I’m committed.”
We had miso salmon for dinner.
Things continued like this for the next few weeks. S. continued to hop on and off the wagon, and my son recounted his friend’s struggles with temptations of the fleshly variety.
“I hope you’re not shaming him?” I asked, suddenly worried he might be that sanctimonious kid everyone avoids at lunchtime. “You’re not a meat-shamer, are you?”
“Oh no! Definitely not. I do me, he does him.”
A month and a half later, he’s still going strong, and I realize the ways in which he’s becoming a big person, capable of long-term goals and commitments. I’m a little verklempt. Many nights we rely on our vegetarian favorites: savory tarts, tofu tikka masala made with a favorite vegan simmer sauce, simple pastas sans meat. For him and his sister I created a vegetarian version of hearty French Onion Soup. We have fish some nights, but given the state of today’s fisheries limit consumption. One favorite is slow-roasted salmon which I first spread with a paste of white miso, sesame oil, rice vinegar, ginger, and garlic. Another salmon favorite is Alison Roman’s slow roasted citrus salmon with herb salad (possible paywall). They are both easy.
But the thing the boy has been asking for again and again is clam chowder, one of his most favorite foods. He once ate a raw oyster for $20, but other than that, shellfish is usually off the table. Except for clam chowder. This week, I granted him his wish. It holds a special place in my heart, too, ever since I enjoyed a bowl at Grand Central Oyster Bar in my early NYC days. Like barbecue, clam chowder is a culinary lightning rod, telling of regional alliances and gustatory prejudices. Manhattan or New England? White, red, or clear? Bacon or none? For us, the answer in that winter moment was simple: white clam chowder with no bacon and no frills. A deep dive into internet chowderdom revealed a dizzying number of options. The two I was most drawn to were Sam Sifton’s, made with bacon and cream, and Ina Garten’s, with no bacon or cream and a large amount of roux. I came up with something in between, creamy and rich but not too thick, and of course no bacon, because that would just be mean. It starts with whole fresh clams, which may seem fussy but I promise is worth it. I got mine from our local shop Fish Tales, and the fishmonger kindly scooped armloads of free oyster crackers into the bag. The chowder came together nicely, and as we warmed from the cold February day the taste was rich, briny, and comforting.
Our rendition of New England clam chowder
CLAM CHOWDER RECIPE
Ingredients:
24 medium/large sized top neck clams (or cherry stone, or if using quahogs, fewer clams), rinsed briefly
1 large white or yellow onion, diced
Salt - 1 teaspoon or as needed
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup dry white wine
4 medium yellow potatoes, peeled and cubed
1-2 ribs celery, peeled and diced
A couple sprigs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups whole milk
1/4 cup cream
Chopped parsley for garnish
Oyster crackers (Optional but recommended!)
Instructions:
In a large heavy pot or Dutch oven (le Creuset or similar), put the clams and about a cup of water. Cover and heat for 10-15 minutes, checking occasionally. When clams are open, transfer them to a bowl to cool. Discard any clams that haven’t opened after about 15 minutes. Important: Strain the liquid through a fine strainer and set the liquid aside for later—this will be your broth.
Clean the pot and put it over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of the butter and the diced onions, and sprinkle with some salt and pepper. Cook gently for about 10 minutes, until onions are softened a bit but not browned at all. Add the potatoes, celery, thyme, and bay leaf and sauté, stirring, for a few minutes, then add the white wine. Let simmer for 5 minutes or so, allowing the wine to cook down a bit, then add in the strained clam broth and cover the pot. Cook over low-medium heat until potatoes are soft enough that they can be pierced with the tip of a knife.
Meanwhile, prepare the clams: pull them out of their shells and discard the shells. Chop the clams into quarters or more if they are on the large size.
In a small saucepan melt the remaining 3 tablespoons butter and then whisk in the flour. Cook, whisking, for 5 minutes, then add milk and continue cooking. Whisk until the lumps are out, milk is simmering and beginning to thicken. This will take around 10 minutes.
Once potatoes are tender, add clams to the pot and pour in thickened milk mixture. Bring the pot to a simmer and cook for another few minutes. Taste for seasoning. Clams and their broth contain natural saltiness, but you may find the soup needs a little more. Just before serving, remove sprigs of thyme and the bay leaf, stir in cream, crank in some pepper, and taste once more for seasoning. Serve hot, with parsley sprinkled on top and oyster crackers.