#68: Linguine and Clams
My attitude on this platform tends to waver somewhere between flip and bossy. Seriousness is not an perspective that I feel is necessary to bring to something like a food blog; there are many other platforms out there dedicated to seriousness as it is. That being said, it only feels fair to put out this post with disclosure of how heavy my food-loving heart feels this week in the wake of Anthony Bourdain’s death. As someone who loves to travel for the purpose of eating, I devoured everything he wrote and filmed on the subject. My travels have only gotten richer, and often more hilarious (mainly on account of all the near-shitting-my-pants moments) from the experience of pushing myself to eat nearly everything, and for that I give Tony a lot of credit. The world, both food-related and not, lost one of the greats last Friday.
In the hopes of tying this sentimental monologue into a blog post that eventually tries to sell you on the idea of making linguine and clams, I will offer this thought: it strikes me that many people must think of fresh clams as being a challenging, or at least non-novice, food to cook at home. Spoiler: they’re not, and even if that promise doesn’t sell you, consider channeling your inner sense of food adventure-ism and giving it a try anyway. Embrace the opportunity to be so up close and personal with your food’s preparation and just go for it. Ask yourself “W.W.A.B.D.?” and go from there. You could opt for something with a wine-laced, herby, buttery sauce and a showering of garlicky breadcrumbs (BA’s Best) or go for marinara cooked down in pancetta fat with sweet slivers of garlic and lemon zest (Red Clam Sauce). Honour the memory of a great cook, great writer, and great eater by stepping out of your culinary comfort zone.
A note of warning: The Italians do not permit seafood and cheese together so mind yourself: if you are making this for yourself at home, do as you like, but if serving to an Italian, don’t offer parmesan.
