HUNGRY GERALD

Last week there were two cold and rainy days on Prince Edward Island. BSK’s kitchen garden at HG/BSK’s oceanfront home got a much needed watering. The inclement weather called for warm, comforting food. And, the answer was “Chowda” (That’s what chowder is called in New England where it’s  an all season favorite). On one night, BSK made cod chowder. The next night there was a shrimp/sea scallop chowder. Instead of milk or cream, BSK used coconut milk and kept it light by minimizing potatoes. Fragrant, delightful, tasty dinners–and, of course, comforting. HG was reminded of an incident that has become a family legend. HG/BSK’s children were very young and the family was motoring to HG/BSK’s summer home on Nantucket Island (HG/BSK are fond of island summering–Fire Island, Nantucket and now, PEI). The family was famished on the way to Nantucket. HG was in a nasty mood because HG was in the midst–unsuccessful–of trying to stop smoking. (Cancer–32 years ago–made HG stop immediately and permanently). Hyannis Port had a number of restaurants  and HG/BSK chose one with a nautical name –something like “Skipper Jack’s Seafood”. New England clam chowder came to the table. It was a sodden mess of flour, water, lumpy mashed potatoes, a few bits of canned chopped clams and bereft of any clam flavor. HG was outraged. Before a room of startled customers (a table of which were nuns) HG screamed: “This isn’t chowder. This is SHIT!!!  And I’m not paying for it!!” HG’s abashed family slunk out of the restaurant leaving HG, with no wallet, to settle the bill. No one spoke until a stop at a good roadside fried clam shack. The clams were delicious and everyone had a laugh.  All was forgiven as HG puffed on after meal cigarettes and became a happy fellow. (Since that day, HG has never ordered New England Clam Chowder. HG prefers the clear and briny clam chowder served in Rhode Island and at Legal Seafoods restaurant at Boston’s Logan Airport).