Now that Labor Day is around the corner, I thought it time to post about my new favorite summer recipe from Martha's Vineyard this year. We had the most beautiful spot on "The Spit" this summer, with great neighbors to boot. (This IS relevant to the recipe.) The first day we arrive, my hubby sends me over to our new neighbors house to ask if they're using their beach chairs. I said, "Honey, they're renting a BEACH house, don't you think they're using their BEACH CHAIRS!?" But I guess he thought I could sway them, he's got a lot of faith in me, or at least in my bikini...Well, as it happens, the amazing couple staying at this beach house were not renters, like we expected, but the actual owners, Gail and Bruce Kissell, and they had a FULL house, with their grown kids and most of their grandkids, so yes, indeed, they would be needing their beach chairs, but so nice to meet you anyway! We knew immediately we'd be getting along very well. And Henry was oh-so-happy, play dates for two weeks! I did NOT get the beach chairs I wanted, although Bruce did hand over a couple of "crappy-ass" ones, his words, not mine...but we ended up getting a whole lot more.
|Henry's new bud, Finn, the smile says it all.|
One morning, sweet Bruce dropped off a bucket of Quahogs, a shellfish abundantly found in the warmer coves of Cape Cod.
Bruce said, "The family went clammin', and these were the leftovers." He had a way of loving you and slapping you at the same time, it was very endearing. This is the cove they got the Quahogs from, just out our front door, not bad, huh?
|Note: No warning signs....yet|
'Course being from Detroit, I had no idea how to stuff a Quahog, so in typical (we were old friends at this point) Bruce-fashion, he appeared on our porch with a lemon and some homemade spicy cocktail sauce. The timing was perfect, I had just steamed the Quahogs, following Bruce's directions exactly, only letting them open a touch to ensure their tenderness, and pre-heated the oven to 400 degrees.
|Steamed to a tee|
|The Shucker. |
It's the Vineyard, clothing is often frowned upon.
|A Vineyard delicacy|