I have been schooled on many things while spending time along the east coast between Cumberland Island, Georgia and Cape Hatteras, North Carolina — and one such thing is chowder.
Recently, I made the acquaintance of a now-septuagenarian, a self-described “former” salty sailor, who sailed across the Atlantic on a thirty-some-odd-foot sailboat, and he said it best while sitting alongside my husband and me at our favorite place to eat in Oriental, North Carolina when he passionately proclaimed, “Chowder is a big damn deal”!
That’s chow-DER, by the way, not chow-DAH, and he is right. Chowder is a huge deal all along the Atlantic coast.
Fish chowder, conch (whelk) chowder, seafood chowder, New England style (white) chowder, red (Manhattan) style, Hatteras style (broth based), and a new one for me: Red Inlet Style Chowder, a spicier version that might have originated in Murrell’s Inlet (or perhaps some other inlet . . . or maybe Beaufort . . . It is low country chowder, but from the Inlet??). Chowder is everywhere in these parts and is taken seriously, but the details, and there are many, can be hard to follow.
I have learned that every chowder has a story, and most every restaurant serves some type for which they are proud. It is like a competition or way of setting each institution apart. Conversations abound about every version of this hearty seafood-based, mystery soup of sorts, particularly regarding where each originated and what ingredients belong and are authentic. (Bacon drippings may be the only thing that connects them all.)
From the perspective of an outsider looking in, I am convinced neither the cooks nor the consumers keep the facts straight, and I use “facts” loosely. I listen and pay close attention, and I can report with certainty that there is a lot of overlap, doublespeak and downright misinformation that gets spouted about when talk of chowder gets going, but I, for one, will not be correcting anyone, that is for sure.
But let me back up. My husband, Tom, bought a boat — that is where my story begins. He bought a boat in North Carolina. And instead of bringing his new girl home to Alabama, he decided to keep her where she was: in the charming little town of Oriental, a place with more boats than people, nestled within the inner banks of Pamlico County along the Neuse River, not far from New Bern.
Oriental is quirky and charming and tiny — like maybe 800-residents-tiny — and other than a hit-or-miss pizza joint, the only place to get a good dinner is M&M’s Cafe, a long-standing family owned restaurant whose staff make you feel like a regular as soon as you step through the door.
Over the last six months or so, Tom and I have spent several two to three week stints on the boat, and unless we are anchored out somewhere along the Intracoastal Waterway between Pamlico Sound and Albemarle Sound or have ventured south down towards Beaufort, we eat dinner most evenings at M&M’s. Like a well rehearsed play, we have our routine: We arrive early, take seats at the bar, and enjoy what we have come to call an “Oriental-pour,” a glass of wine filled to the absolute tip-top. Within our first few sips, we are greeting and acknowledging the same folks we saw the previous evening, or the night before that, or the last three or four in a row. M&M’s really is the only game in town.
Perhaps it is the “Oriental-pours” or the simple realization that despite our disparate backgrounds and not always being in the same season of life as our barstool cohorts, everyone we meet in this little town is here for the same reason, and that reason includes a boat. Conversations flow easily at M&M’s and meander through all sorts of subjects from the most surface to sometimes the achingly deep. I admit to frequently nodding along in feigned understanding of which Banks (Inner or Outer), Sound (there are a few), Island, Inlet, Point, Cape, or -boro (there are so many towns that end in -boro) is being referenced, but I do not have to know the area any better than I do to be moved, entertained, or enlightened by the stories, experiences, and recommendations shared.
Red Inlet Style Clam Chowder is one of the best chowders I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. It is uniquely spicy, and although I am not yet a chowder judging professional, Tom most definitely is. He wholeheartedly gives this chowder two thumbs up and believes it is hands down one of the best he has tasted.
Given to me one evening at M&M’s by our fellow bar-dining dinner companion, Mabel, I knew this recipe was going to be something special by the way she lit up while telling me about it. She said she trekked to Murrell’s Inlet almost daily for it from her family’s summer place in close by Isle of Palm where she spent so many summers of her life.
After finding out I wrote about food, she went to a great deal of trouble to get the exact amounts and directions for me so that I could share it properly. Between phone calls, texts, and other interruptions to her meal, she made sure of all the details. Like I knew it would be, it is a spectacularly delicious chowder and I know you are going to love it.
Thanks, Mabel! Hope to see you again soon at the bar.
Red “Inlet Style” Clam Chowder
Ingredients
**6 to 8 slices of bacon (see cook’s notes for alternative if desired)
2 onions, peeled and cut into a small dice
2 potatoes, diced
1 750g box or 28 oz can diced tomatoes
1/3 cup catsup
1 8-ounce bottle clam juice
2 tablespoons Heinz 57
2 tablespoons Worcestershire
2 teaspoons brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
4 to 6 shakes hot sauce, like Crystal Hot Sauce
2 to 3 stalks celery, thinly diced
2 1/2 cups water
3 to 4 cans minced clams, undrained
Dry sherry
Directions
- Fry bacon in soup pot, and once cooked, remove onto paper towels to drain and cool, leaving drippings in pot.
- Cook onions and potatoes in drippings over medium low until soft, about 8 to 10 minutes.
- While onions and potatoes cook, blend tomatoes, catsup, clam juice, Heinz 57, Worcestershire, sugar, hot sauce, salt, pepper, and crumbled bacon using either an immersion blender or food processor.
- Add tomato mixture to soup pot, along with celery and water, and cook over low heat about an hour with lid vented on one side of soup pot.
- Add clams and continue simmering on low another hour or so before adjusting seasonings.
- Serve with crusty French bread or plain crackers and have plenty of dry sherry available to add to individual bowls.
- My bacon-free version: Swirl 3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil in soup pot and heat over low. Add a hefty shake of smoked paprika and a light sprinkling of salt before adding onions and potatoes. Continue following recipe above. Add 1 tablespoons maple syrup and an additional bit of smoked paprika to the tomato mixture before blending. Continue to follow the recipe and adjust smoked paprika and/or maple syrup after simmering for at least an hour, if needed for a rich smoky flavor.
Cook's Notes
Sherry: Have plenty on hand, especially if you are hosting sailors. Dry sherry makes most any chowder better, especially red chowders. Start with a tablespoon per bowl, but do not be scared to add a great deal more.
Sugar/Sweetener: Regardless of whether you choose the bacon or bacon-free option, you must add a heavy pinch of sugar to this chowder to balance the acidity of the tomatoes. If you choose the bacon-free option, use both sugar and maple syrup.
Simmering the chowder: If you cook on a gas stove, simmering can be too hot. If you have a hot stove, cook at lowest setting for a bit, then cover and turn off the heat. Cycle the heat off and on so as not to scorch the chowder.
Before serving, cover and turn off the heat and allow to rest a bit before reheating to desired temperature before ladling into bowls.
