Albert “Bert” Fischer doesn’t buy clams; he harvests his own. When he was very small, he’d go clamming with his father in the summer. Later, he’d go with his next-door neighbor and best friend, Danny Larsen. As soon as they were old enough to be on their own, the boys would head to Nashaquitsa Pond in Chilmark or wade out on the Menemsha Flats in search of steamers.
Steamers are soft-shell clams that live six or more inches below the sand. They feed themselves by filtering nutrients in the water through their long siphons (or necks). Bert and Danny would look for the telltale tiny holes in the sand, then carefully rake, taking care not to damage the relatively delicate shells of their prey. They’d keep at it until they harvested a half-bushel, which came to approximately twenty-five pounds or between 150 and 200 clams.
One time, they brought their haul to Everett Poole to sell at his dockside fish shop, Poole’s Fish Market in Menemsha – the only game in town until Danny’s father, Lou, opened Larsen’s Fish Market in 1969. It was a good morning’s work for the boys.
Danny followed in his father’s footsteps and opened a fish market of his own: Edgartown Seafood. He ran it for thirty-six years, until 2023, when he sold it to his employees. Louis, his brother, opened and operated The Net Result in Vineyard Haven for more than thirty years. And Betsy, their younger sister, took over their dad’s place when she was nineteen. She still operates it today with their sister Kristine.
But Bert chose a land-based career in property management and stuck to clamming as a hobby and culinary pursuit. He continues to enjoy the experience.
These days, he wades into the water year-round, relishing the stillness and time in the cold-weather sun as much as the relief from midsummer’s heat. He has his favorite spots but is always happy for a tip from a friend – particularly the shellfish warden – who points him toward mature seeded beds.
Thanks to the work of the Martha’s Vineyard Shellfish Group (MVSG), there are plenty of clams to be had. Since the early 1980s, the MVSG has supplemented wild populations of clams, scallops, and oysters by seeding beds across the Island. Anyone can harvest this bounty, provided they purchase a town recreational shellfishing permit. (Rules and fees vary by town, so visit each town’s website for specifics.)
Bert, now in his seventies, concentrates his energies on gathering New England hard-shell clams known as quahaugs (Mercenaria mercenaria). Their short siphons necessitate homes just under the sand, which makes them easier to come by. He uses a rake but says sometimes you can find them just by rooting around with your foot.
Quahaugs are marketed according to their size. The smallest are sold as littlenecks (one to two inches across), then topnecks (two to three inches at the hinge), and cherrystones (three to four inches). The largest (more than four inches) are sold as chowders. On-Island, some use the term “quahaug” exclusively for the largest clams.
Bert used to make a lot of stews and chowders, so he looked for older, bigger quahaugs since he needed fewer to fill out his load. (The current limit in Chilmark is one-quarter bushel per person/family per week.) If they were a bit tougher, it didn’t matter; they were just going to be chopped and slow-cooked anyway. Lately, though, he has been inclined toward smaller, more tender clams. His favorite way to eat these is popped open as they come out of the water. Still, when he’s out, he gets enough to steam some with wine for dinner or turn a bunch into a sauce. He enjoys giving extras away, customary when you find yourself with a bucket of clams.
Although it’s more work, Bert goes out for steamers several times a year too. He simply steams them open, then eats them dipped in butter. He says they are sweeter tasting than hard-shell clams.
Betsy Larsen agrees. “They’re so sweet! That’s why they use them for fried clams,” she says.
In August, Betsy brings in a couple hundred pounds of clams per week to Larsen’s Fish Market. She says littlenecks are the most popular, though she personally prefers cherrystones to other quahaugs. Customers can purchase them either to eat on the half-shell on the Menemsha dock or buy them by the pound to take home. She also stocks chowder clams fresh and chopped/frozen, and, of course, her favorite: steamers.
Unlike Bert, I generally buy clams. When I’m on-Island I have a lot of choices of size and variety; when I’m not, I tend to pick up a couple dozen littlenecks, which I use whole or steam and then chop. Like him, I have fond memories of harvesting steamers as a kid. Every August my grandparents and our neighbors would throw a big end-of-summer clambake. The parties were quite a production, so everyone pitched in beforehand. A big, deep hole had to be dug – harder than it sounds when the sand covers layers of rock – and kindling and logs had to be trundled to the beach. Older kids collected stones to line the pit to transform the hole into an “oven.” We younger ones were left to gather seaweed, which would be layered over the rocks and become the source of the steam that my mother said was what made things taste so good.
Everyone chipped in for drinks, the corn, and lobsters (and before I was born, bands and a dance floor), but we always got the steamers ourselves. Our neighbor, Neltje LeBaron, would lead a troop of us children onto the sandbar at Lambert’s Cove in West Tisbury when the tide was out. She taught us to look for the holes and dig carefully. We didn’t use equipment, other than pails and maybe small shovels. I remember laboring diligently but not for very long. I imagine that at some point Neltje got serious and enlisted more skilled help – she was, after all, responsible for clams for at least fifty hungry people!
Our bakes ended by the time I reached my teens. My grandparents and the neighbors got too old to dig pits and dance all night, and the next generation wanted to spend their (more limited) time on the Island playing tennis or swimming at the beach rather than shoveling. We felt the loss, so every few years my parents would cobble together a facsimile in a big pot. It was nice, but not the same.
Years passed and I continued to eat clams: simmered in soup, tossed with linguine, simply steamed, and, more often than I should, fried. Recently though, as fish have become less abundant in local waters, I have been thinking more and more about this delicious, nutritious food. I started combing through books for old recipes and playing around with some new ideas.
What would I do these days with a bucket full of clams? The first night I’d scrub then steam a dozen or so. I’d use the broth in place of stock to pull together a fish-poach flavored with leeks, fennel, and tomatoes. I’d garnish each bowl with the steamed clams then serve with crusty bread. The next day I’d make clam cakes, not fritters (though maybe them too before I was done). Clam cakes are an old-fashioned thing, reminiscent of codfish cakes. You combine minced clams with egg, breadcrumbs, and herbs and form patties. Sautéed in a little butter, these work with eggs for breakfast, but also make a nice lunch or supper.
Baked clams, either an Italian version or with an Asian twist, would likely be on my playlist, as would a risotto. Then, before I was finished, I would invite a few folks over for Chinese-style scallion and clam pancakes. I’ve been playing around with recipes and found I love these (somewhat weirdly) served with back-in-the-day style clam dip – which is a breeze to make when you have clams on hand. Just a dollop of the creamy, clammy condiment reinforces the clam flavor perfectly. What better way to celebrate summer than watching the sunset while eating a snack featuring a very old friend cast in a new role?
The following recipes were published with this story:
Chinese-Style Clam and Scallion Pancakes with Clam and Scallion Dip
