Our plan for dinner Saturday was "fish." Which turned into "fish soup" when we realized we had fish stock in the freezer {homemade - aka I boiled fish heads, which is kinda gross}. Grady, seeing clams at the fish counter and upon seeing, desiring, decided that Clam Chowder was on the menu.
A can of clams (less mess, less expense, clams didn't have to fly here from the ocean) and a few flourishes later, we had ourselves one delicious bowl of chowdah. I have gotten in touch with my New England heritage! Haha. Maybe a little late since I now live in the Midwest where there is no ocean but, because of my Midwestern-yet-seafood-loving husband, I feel a little bit closer to home. Of course, I never liked seafood growing up but I do love the ocean!
Ah, yes. I could just feel the salty wind on my face and hear the crashing waves. I imagined us sitting together in a little cottage by the sea, cupping our delicious bowls of chowder and keeping warm from the salty, cold air outside. Too much from a bowl of soup, you say? Well, perhaps you're right ... or perhaps my imagination will prove a reality someday when we are much older.
It also reminds me of a book that was a childhood favorite - One Morning in Maine by Robert McCloskey. A girl live on an island in Maine and goes out one day with her father and little sister on errands, including digging clams. Many excellent things happen along the way but the last page is the girl in the back of her dad's little boat yelling, "We're going to have ... CLAM CHOWDER FOR LUNCH!" Or at least my dad always yelled the last part. Finally, I understand the excitement.
Post-dinner time brought a makeshift "fire," roasted almonds and cuddling on the couch. It may be cold outside, but I don't mind if it means more candles and soup and cuddling.
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