Since Westminster has been making Oyster Crackers in New England since the early 1800's it's a safe bet they made the crackers in question.

It was March in Bristol, Vermont. It may have been March other places as well, but family folklore is silent on this point. My Great Great Grandfather, Boardman Marsh Bosworth, came home to the homestead (One Park Place, Bristol Vt, the oldest frame structure in the town) to find that Dorothy, his wife and companion of many years, had a pot of oyster stew on. This was good news, as a stew made from rich Vermont butter, cream, and milk with winter oysters, which have a richer flavor than summer ones, was always welcome provender.

Sadly, she told him…they had no oyster crackers…so they would have to do without.

Boardman was not the sort of man to let a little extra effort stand in the way of doing something the way it should be done, so he put his boots back on and went back out into the cold wet night. Did I mention it was sleeting?

Bristol Market wasn’t all that far from the homestead, and is still there today, a few blocks away on the other side of the street, so it wasn’t more than a half hour later that he came tromping back up the rear porch steps, shaking the ice and snow off his boots and clutching a bag of oyster crackers.

Attaining the top step he slipped on the slush, falling backwards down the three steps to the drive, his fall cushioned only by the bag of crackers.

Dorothy, having heard the commotion,  went to the door to see what was the matter, and found Boardman sitting in the slush at the foot of the stairs. Looking up at her, he uttered what has become an enduring comment regarding lost causes in our family, to wit:

“Well…that settles the cracker question.”

Then he brushed himself off and went inside.

(In Vermont, this is considered high hilarity)

My friend Meredith, on hearing that I’d be spending my evening without EJ, asked if I’d be watching sci-flicks and listening to bad music to celebrate my birthday. Well, pretty much. Except that she left out cooking soup. She should have known better.

I haven’t settled on a flick yet, but I have settled in cooking my all time favorite soup, New England Clam Chowder, and listening to all the Judy Collins and Joan Baez in my collection. And the soundtrack from Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

Good times.

I made up the chowder totally on the wing, and we’ll see how it comes out. Right now it’s in a simmer phase coming together while the Indigo Girls do a very good cover of Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice.” TIme was I knew the picking to that, in my younger days. Don’t tell EJ, but I’ve been thinking about getting myself a banjo and getting back into playing and singing. I’m not great, but I’ve heard worse…

Ern’s New England Clam Chowder

Unlike many of the soups I make, this one doesn’t get blended towards the end. Keep in mind that the size everything goes in is pretty much the size everything is going to come out at the end, so figure out how big you want your bits and chop all the ingredients to that size before adding.

• One medium onion (about 10 oz)
• 3 slices bacon
• 1 generous cup of celery
• 2 tbs butter
• 1 tbs flour (I use Wondra, which is designed not to lump)
• 3 bay leaves
• 2 8 oz bottles of clam juice
• 1 qt half and half
• 1 tbs chicken stock base (it couldn’t hurt)
• 1.5 lbs boiling potatoes (white, gold, whatever…just not Russet’s or any other baking potato, they’re too mealy)
  Want to get wacky? Add:
• 1/4 tsp Old Bay Seasoning

Saute the bacon in your kettle until it starts to give up its fat, then add in the chopped onions and cook for about ten minutes, until the onions are getting pretty soft. Add in the celery, bay leaves and butter and stir it for another three of four minutes. Add the flour in and get it evenly mixed throughout.

Add the clam juice, including the juice in the can (assuming you’re using canned clams) and the half and half.

Add the diced potatoes and clams and bring the whole thing to a gentle simmer.

If you’re feeling adventurous, add the quarter tsp of Old Bay Seasoning. If you’re making this for Yankee purists, it may raise some eyebrows, but not in a bad way. Crank a few turns of fresh ground pepper and either the tbs of chicken stock base (Better Than Bullion Organic Chicken Stock) or a tsp of salt. The base is pretty salty, so you really don’t need both. You’ll get to adjust the seasoning at the end anyway.

That’s pretty much it. Simmer (gently for 20-25 minutes) and you’re done. This is one of those soups that benefits from being made the day before and having a chance to come together, but it’s just fine right off the bat.

The most important thing is to find a brand of canned clams that you trust. I used Trader Joe’s Whole Cherry-stones, and the soup came out fine, but I think that Snow’s is probably a better call.

Thickness in clam chowder is a personal and regioinal thing. This will be what I consider “north of Boston” thickness, which means creamy but not thick at all. South (or West) of Connecticut, folks add enough flour so that spoons stand at attention. This, I gather, gives them the feeling that they’re getting value our of their thick, rich, soup.

I’m not hard over on the right amount of flour, myself. You could add a second tablespoon and it would probably be just fine. If you wanted to.

The traditional, garnish is oyster crackers, about which I’ll tell you a funny family story sometime. Well, funny by Vermont standards. A pat of butter and a grind od pepper dont hurt either.

For me, especially since Clam Chowder is a part of my childhood, A&W Root Beer and a hot dog are the perfect pairing, or is that a mange-a-trois?

Anyway, I’ve got lots of folk music left in the mix, the soup’s done, and I’m ready to dig in.

—

Epilogue

I never did queue up a cheesy sci-fi flick, just kicking back with the soup (and a hot dog), listening to music and doing a little blogging here turned out to be the perfect evening. Well, the oyster crackers would have been nice.

Also: The Cracker Question (as promised)

[slickr-flickr set: Atlantic Cty]