Somebody correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't know anywhere else on God's green earth (or deep blue ocean) where you can get a Clam Boil except Southeastern New England.
A "proper" Clam Boil (which hardly falls into the class of 'proper') consists of clams, potatoes, onions, hot dogs, a few sausages (in South Eastern Massachusetts, a large hunk of cherico, a spicy Portuguese sausage, is included), all steamed together and served with a cup of clam broth and a cup of drawn butter.
Oh. My. God.
I haven't had one of these in YEARS. Decades, maybe.
So, my brother and sister in law took me here last night for supper.
It's a bar, really, with some really, really good food.
The booths were obviously made by someone who had a couple of high school shop classes and knew his way around a can of stain and could swing a mean brush heavy with varnish.
I LOVE that it's the "liberal' club. No, I have no idea of the origin of the name. But, I'll ask. You can bet I'll ask. And, I'm thinking it doesn't have much to do with politics.
Nothing fancy here - including the clientele - but OMG, the food is amazing!
I loved it that our waitress, a very attractive young woman named Lisa, asked, "Okay, let me see, how many 'boils' here? I lost track."
You know, there are only so many places in the world where a waitress would actually have need to ask that question - and, no one got repulsed because everyone knew exactly what she was asking.
We picked up my 82 year old aunt (my mother's sister) who lives right around the corner.
We laughed and talked and laughed and talked and then, we laughed and talked some more.
It's important to do that when you are eating food with your fingers.
Just real people. Real food. Real conversation.
Life is good.
It may get hard from time to time but mostly, life is good.
It's especially good in moments like these, in the midst of those times when life is very hard.
"Finally, I suspect that it is by entering that deep place inside us where our secrets are kept that we come perhaps closer than we do anywhere else to the One who, whether we realize it or not, is of all our secrets the most telling and the most precious we have to tell." Frederick Buechner
Come in! Come in!
"If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a Hope-er, a Pray-er, a Magic Bean buyer; if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire. For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" -- Shel Silverstein
7 comments:
WONDERFUL to see the picture of you and Jim together in such happy times- and yes, we noticed that sly hug- your arm tucked through his
love you both
Actually, my brother's name is John. His wife is Mary Jane. That's my aunt Gilda (not to be confused with her sisters Hilda, Deolinda, Lydia, or Alice).
And yes, I'm busted. Totally.
When you are at EDS in a few months we defintiely riding down to Fall Riverera for a clamboil with extra chourico!
Mark Beach here, can't log on but want to say that we remember so well the evning that you did it for us... It will be a happy memory for ever!
Oh, that sounds horrifyingly good.
Actually, that was a wee different, Mark. That was a lobster fest, which was preceded by NE clam chowder, and mussels. I think we may have had corn on the cob, but memory fails more and more these days.
It was wonderful to have you here, Mark. Hope we can do it again.
Chris - I can't hardly wait.
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