After I posted my 2013 list, I was bombarded with people who had tips on clam digging. Apparently I am the only person in the entire world to have never dug my own clams. I’ve had my fair share of fishing, gone crabbing, and the like, but never clams. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that I don’t actually like clams all that much, but the process of getting them straight from the beach interested me more than eating them.
For Father’s Day weekend, my dad took me out to the Oregon Coast to finally achieve some hands-on clam digging. As we rolled into town, it all seemed too easy. We bought a license at a place right off the highway and easily found the bay they suggested. The weather was sunny, with barely a breeze. However, finding the damned clams was another story. Since I’m not huge on clams, razor clams freak me out. I wanted the cute little ones that you steam or put in clam chowder. We had a hard time finding them at first, and I was more engrossed with all the other little sea creatures around.
But finally, I found my first clam.
We basically circled the ENTIRE bay for three hours, and while we did get some clams, it was back breaking work! I suddenly had an appreciation for the united clammers association (if one such organization exists).
When I finally got home, I steamed my clams with some garlic, butter, and parsley. The clams were pretty good, but considering it took an entire day to get them, and I ate them in like 4 minutes, I think next time I might make a chowder.
However, there were just a few clams that looked like this:
I just couldn’t eat them. It might have something to do with the fact that Aliens is my all time favorite movie, and something about these ones seems a little too much like face huggers. When I squeezed them, they had a weird involuntary spasm reaction which creeped me out even more.
Anway, so there it is. I’m officially versed in the arts of clam digging! Thanks dad!