August 3, 2000
AUNT CARRIE'S
SAVORING THE BAY
A tour of our quintessential clam shacks

By MERIDITH FORD
Journal Restaurant Reviewer

New Englanders take clams very seriously. Witness the many ways there are to enjoy them: clambakes, clamcakes, stuffies, fried clams, fried clam strips, steamers, shore dinners -- it's positively clam-mania.

New England clams are available year 'round, and the best place to enjoy them is at what real clam lovers lovingly call clam shacks.

Almost always on or near the water, these weathered-looking eateries are never much on decor, but they're loaded with atmosphere, and the food is down-home good. Most of the offerings are fried, but often there are steamed clams or lobsters, too, and sometimes the pickings you might find at an old-fashioned clambake -- boiled red potatoes or corn-on-the-cob.

I know I'll never be a New Englander, because I wasn't born or raised here. But after visiting the following clam shacks, I can at least pass muster when it comes to clams.

Iggy's Doughboys and Chowder House, Warwick

Iggy's is practically on Oakland Beach -- you could throw a clamcake and hit the water. It's a true shack: There's little more to it than an ordering window and a kitchen, but last summer it opened an indoor dining area that sports such amenities as pink-upholstered booths, ceiling fans, and hanging plants. Sliding glass doors open to an outdoor dining area facing the beach on one side, and to the street on the front side of the building.

It's got all the chowder-house usuals, but its calling card is the servings -- by the dozen and half-dozen -- of its doughboys; lightly fried, they are lighter than a doughnut, heavier than a fritter, and sprinkled heavily with sugar that makes a mess all over your face and hands when you're eating them. In short, they are a perfect food.

Here the white chowder is thick and creamy. The red is thick, too, with just a touch of peppery seasoning. The clamcakes are soft and billowy, full of clams, and have a brownish-orange tint to their crispy crust.

The fried fish is splendid: hot tufts of flaky fish steam from the plate as you break into the crust. Large slices of lemon are served with nearly every seafood item, as is packaged tartar sauce.

Fried shrimp are tender and hot from the fryer, but unlike the rest of the seafood, tasted pre-frozen. A lobster salad roll was tender, too, and, though salty, not having much more than the lobster meat to hold it together.

But I admit I'm being unfair: the doughboys are so good that I wanted to skip the entire dinner and eat all 12 of them. There are some interesting sodas, such as sarsaparilla -- lemon-lime and strawberry -- as well as ice cream and popcorn for beachcombers.

All the menu items are under $10; many are under $5.

After finishing our meal (yes, I managed to save a few of the doughboys for later), my daughter played on the beach's jungle gym, and we ventured out onto the rocks to look at the gulls and search for sea creatures. (The beach is closed to swimming today, but may reopen as early as tomorrow.)

I could get used to this.

Quito's Restaurant, Bristol

Quito's is possibly the most upscale of the clam shacks I went to, although there's no need to bother with a suit and tie. And there's more on the menu than clamcakes and chowder -- there's even a wine list of four wines.

Facing the serenity of Bristol Harbor, Quito's is a tiny spot with a small indoor dining area and two patio areas -- one at the front of the restaurant, the other at the back, but both with views of the water.

Inside, you can walk past the short-order kitchen to the holding vats full of sand crabs (from which, I noticed, some of the occupants were trying to escape).

The wait on a cooler-than-usual Saturday evening was 40 minutes, but it wasn't hard to pass the time. We talked and walked along the harbor until the time flittered away.

Fried calamari came to us steaming hot, with sliced hot peppers and olive oil on the side. They were lightly battered, then deep-fried, leaving them with a thin, crispy coating encasing tender rings and tendrils of the squid.

The clamcakes were some of the best I tried -- crispy outside, slightly doughy inside and dotted with small flecks of sweet clams. It's easy to polish off a half-dozen before you've even realized you're eating them.

The pan-fried crabcake sandwich was also among the best. It is served with lettuce and tomato, and was full of the voluptuous flavor of crabs and seasonings, with no trace of grease from the pan.

Quito's offers pasta in many forms: with marinara, red or white clam sauce, and scampi style (in white sauce with butter and garlic). The shrimp scampi boasted large shrimp coated in garlic atop a bed of spaghetti; it was a nice diversion from the fried items.

Other offerings include lobster, scallop and shrimp lemon-and-butter casseroles, baked scrod with oregano and clam rolls.

Items are $1.50 (for a stuffie) to $17.95 for the lobster casserole. Beer and wine are offered.

Flo's Clam Shack, Newport

The first thing that hits you about Flo's is the decor. "Swimming-pool blue" is what my friend called the color of the bamboo-lined planks that lead to the outside ordering window.

It looks like the staff has been collecting the many life preservers, fishing tackle and tags, as well as signs that read "Closed Hurricanes" and "Attack Quahog," for quite some time. It makes sense -- Flo's has been around since 1936. It's the kind of ambience that can't be put together by going to a few garage sales; this kind of crustiness takes years to acquire.

The next thing that hits you about Flo's is the menu. It features typical clam-shack offerings -- fried clam strips; red, white and clear chowders; fried seafood platters served with fries and cole slaw; clamcakes; steamers; and stuffies -- but anything item spelled with "er" at the end is spelled on Flo's menu with an "a," so "chowder" becomes "chowda," etc. This is New England, after all.

Finally, what hits you -- thank goodness, not literally -- is the numbered rock that Flo's uses as a claim check for your food, hand-painted with a big red number.

I tried fried clams, lightly dusted with a cornmeal-like batter, but after trying them I can see why fried clam strips were invented -- the bellies of a fried clam are just too mushy for me. A delicacy for some, but I was happier sticking to the strips.

I like to enjoy my fried seafood with tartar sauce, and even though we had to snoop around for the condiment (just ask at the bar), once found, it was well worth our effort. Stored in a ketchup bottle, it was obviously house-made: creamy -- but not too -- and really, really fresh, with a hint of what tasted like dill and not too much pickle relish.

The clamcakes were lightly fried and full of clams. The "chowdas" were so hot I could barely eat them at first, but once the chunks of potatoes and clams cooled off, they were robust -- lightly seasoned and full of the flavor of the sea.

By now, I was tiring of fried items (hitting three clam shacks in four days will do that to you), so we ventured upstairs to try some raw-bar items. Enormous, huge, gigantic (did I say big?) Flo's Alaskan king crab legs were cold, fresh, and lusty when dipped in drawn butter. There's also lobster, oysters, and little necks.

You can eat inside downstairs, outside downstairs, or topside. The latter gives you a terrific view of Easton's Beach across the street.

Menu items are $1.95 (for a Portuguese stuffie) to $16.95 (for a fisherman's platter), and Flo's has a full bar.

But it wasn't until we were leaving that I noticed an offering of a bottle of Moet and two "gourmet" hot dogs for $50 and realized we might have missed out on something. Leave it to Flo's to serve hot dogs with champagne.

Aunt Carrie's, Narragansett

We meandered into this lovable little spot nestled next to the marshland that decorates the opening of the channel at Galilee on a sunny weekday afternoon. Because it was after lunch hour, it wasn't very crowded.

There's a takeout counter to the right as you enter the dining room, and through it you can see the cooks preparing the food, including a view of where the house-made apple pies are prepared.

Once seated, we watched out of the large windows on the east and south sides of the restaurant as two brown cottontail rabbits vied for the bits of crumbs left on the small lawn by former occupants. Just past them, a pair of swans were lunching on what the rich salt marsh had to offer.

We lunched on what Aunt Carrie's had to offer: Fried dinners of clams, clam strips, scallops, and shrimp served with fresh, hot-from-the-oven house-made bread; a cup of red, white, or clear broth-style chowder; French fries; a green salad; and a slice of fresh, warm apple pie. Of course we ordered the clamcakes, too. And cole slaw. And steamers.

Our young waiter seemed in awe of how much food we ordered, but he tried very hard not to show it. Closing my eyes to take in the sweet, briny smell of the steamers he brought to the table to get things started, I felt as if everything about Aunt Carrie's was familiar, yet it wasn't -- I had never been there before.

I was reminded of the many barbecues and family reunions I'd been to -- and though the food wasn't anything like that of my memories of Georgia and Texas, somehow the sentiment was the same. For the first time in my life, I realized what regional cooking really is: No matter where you go, if the food is lovingly and knowingly prepared, it will provoke in you the memories of home that are the most dear.

The steamers were soft and just a tiny bit chewy -- they competed with the fresh bread for dipping into the warm drawn butter. We tried the red chowder (with tomatoes) and the white (here, with milk, not cream) and loved the gentle spiciness of both, plus the chunks of clams and potatoes.

The clamcakes were soft and hot, like little pillows of sweet clam saltiness. The outside of these fritter-like delicacies were crispy and thin; inside, their softness seemed to linger in my mouth for a few moments, then melt away.

There are New England shore dinners with lobsters, but we opted for fried scallops and shrimp. The scallops were crispy onthe outside, tender on the inside, as were the shrimp. Both were plump bites of salt-meets-sweet encased in a light coating of batter and perfectly fried.

I was so full I thought I might pop, but I couldn't leave without trying the apple pie. Aunt Carrie's makes its own, and it's purported on the back of the menu that if you get there early enough in the morning you can watch the cooks peeling the apples and making the raisin bread.

We tried one slice -- enough for two -- and it was as good as I dreamed it would be: the inside crust was soaked in the sweet, gooeyness of the slightly tart, cinnamon-laced filling, the outside crust still flaky and light.

Complete dinners are $9.95 to $18.75, plates $5.95 to $14.75. A la carte items such as corn, cole slaw, sandwiches, clamcakes, and chowders are $.95 to $8.95. Desserts (there's also Indian pudding) are $1.50 to $2.50.

As we were leaving, we could hear the diners at the next table -- obviously tourists -- milling over the menu.

"Try a little of everything," I recommended as we walked by.

Champlin's Seafood Deck, Narragansett

I think my favorite thing about Champlin's -- besides the fried shrimp and scallops, of course -- is that it's just as common to see people dining there in their bathing suits as it is to see the hordes of sea gulls perched on the roof waiting for leftovers.

Even with a new paint job, this sea shack overlooking the channel in Galilee has a crustiness to its exterior, sort of like a surly sailor. And you can watch fishermen unload the fresh seafood from boats that stock the retail market below the restaurant.

Some of the seats are indoors, but most are outside, and on a hot sunny day you can get a sunburn if you're not careful.

The deal is simple: You wait in line (it can get pretty busy on summer evenings) to place your order at the ordering window. Grab a table -- inside or out -- and wait for your number to be called. You can grab a beer or drink while waiting -- there's a full bar.

Steamed lobster is a favorite here, and ours was succulent and sweet, with lots of drawn butter for dipping. The clamcakes are good, too -- fresh and hot with lots of clam chunks.

But my Champlin's favorite is the fried scallops, touted by Fodor's in a clipping that hangs on the wall as the "best in New England, possibly the world." Served with French fries and cole slaw, the enormous rounds of sweet, briny meat are delicately fried and served piping hot.

There's red, white, and clear chowder, but my favorite here was the red: a little spicier than the white, with a slightly thicker broth and the sweet tanginess of the tomatoes.

Sandwiches mostly consist of lobster salad rolls, scallop rolls, and clam rolls, but there are also hamburgers and cheeseburgers -- although I would consider it blasphemy to order such things.

A shop on the lower deck (called "Down Under") offers ice creams, fudge, taffy, and chocolates in the shape of crabs and lobsters, as well as souvenirs.

Almost all of the menu items are under $10; the lobsters are priced daily.

A warm, sunny day; the view of the boats in the channel; some fried scallops from Champlin's; a cold, cold beer -- I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.

In fact, all these places did a lot more than just satiate my appetite.

Even though I've been living in New England for 10 years, I've never really felt like a New Englander. I probably never will. But somewhere between the fried calamari at Quito's and the warm doughboys at Iggy's, I felt -- in part, anyway -- initiated.

These weathered little shacks possessed a quintessential part of New England heritage that I had somehow missed out on, until now. All those clamcakes, cups of chowder -- and yes, the house-made pies at Aunt Carries's -- had finally managed to make me feel at home.