Growing up in Providence, about 40 miles from the shoreline, my strongest connection with the ocean was through clam cakes. A mixture of dough and clams was dropped into a deep fryer and cooked until it was dark brown. Clam cakes were always heavily salted. They were crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. Because they were dropped into the hot oil, they came out roughly spherical but with odd looking appendages. There was something pre-historic about them. They were what I imagined ancient food looked like. Clam cakes were very filling and sat heavily in the stomach, but after a rare day at the the beach with my grandparents, they were the perfect food.
Growing up in Providence, about 40 miles from the shoreline, my strongest connection with the ocean was through clam cakes. A mixture of dough and clams was dropped into a deep fryer and cooked until it was dark brown. Clam cakes were always heavily salted. They were crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. Because they were dropped into the hot oil, they came out roughly spherical but with odd looking appendages. There was something pre-historic about them. They were what I imagined ancient food looked like. Clam cakes were very filling and sat heavily in the stomach, but after a rare day at the the beach with my grandparents, they were the perfect food.