Techniques
A Seaside Supper
When I was eight years old, one of my dad's pals invited us to a clambake near our home on the Jersey shore. There was a certain drama to the whole thing. Digging the pit, gathering rocks to line it, layering on clams, lobsters—even hot dogs—and covering it with seaweed and a wet tarp. An hour later, when that tarp was lifted, the steam rose ten feet high, releasing an explosion of seafood aromas. It was stunning. What I learned that day is this: No cookout on the planet comes close to a clambake. Here's how to pull one off. —Jasper White
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