In Search of Chowder

I ran into my cousin, Julie, at last November’s Lincoln City Chowder Cook-Off. Neither of us could stop sampling all the tasty chowders, which made me wonder if constant chowder craving was in our DNA. Two years before, I had served as an official judge at the Chowder, Blues & Brews Festival, held every September in Florence. I told Julie that I held all clam chowder to a very high standard: my mother’s. She said she did the same, but when we got down to particulars, it turned out that my mom used canned clams, whereas Aunt Margaret liked to dig the razor clams herself along the Oregon Coast and then grind or chop them by hand.

I felt a tad defensive, but was relieved in the end to see that Julie and I did have matching standards. We had proclaimed the very same chowder as the best in show. As it turned out, Chef Mike Downing of Newport’s Quimby’s Restaurant won the People’s Choice Award with his lip-smackin’ soup.

The New England-style clam chowder we Oregonians love derives from soups from coastal France and England that were brought here by American settlers. Clam chowder was hugely popular in New England by Colonial times and author Herman Melville devoted a long passage of “Moby Dick,” published in 1851, to describing what was then considered a “favorite fishing food.”

The recipe hasn’t changed much since Melville described it, although the “pounded ship biscuits” he recommended mixing with the clams have since been replaced with crackers sprinkled atop the finished product. With some variations, the end result is always a concoction of bacon or salt pork, chopped clams, vegetables (usually onion, celery and potatoes) and cream.

Let the Search Begin
In Oregon, our widespread appreciation of clam chowder probably began with Mo. Mo was the nickname of the late Mohava Marie Niemi, founder of Mo’s Restaurants. The original Mo’s that opened on Newport’s bayfront in 1947 was a favorite with celebrities and common folk alike. People came from far and wide for Mo’s famous clam chowder.

Many other chefs along the Oregon coast have since taken up the ladle to produce their own winners. So, after comparing chowder notes with my cousin, I made it my mission to find the best clam chowder. But considering all the good restaurants and cooking schools that keep popping up from Astoria to Brookings, I concluded that I’d be content with a short list of favorites.

For starters, I called on Will Leroux, chef at Wayfarer Restaurant in Cannon Beach. I knew Will had cooked at the James Beard House in New York City, so he must be good. And as the Oregon-born James Beard did himself, he must love a good clam chowder.

I was right. Will told me that anytime is chowder time at the Wayfarer, where summer consumption of the stuff reaches 25 gallons per day. He said people love his chowder so much, they special-order it by the gallon for the holidays.

Will took me and my daughter, Meriwether, into the kitchen to show us how it’s done. He uses a steam kettle, sort of like a massive double boiler, which prevents the chowder from burning. Home cooks will need to stir their soup frequently, while keeping the mixture from coming to a boil.

Unlike my mother, who made good use of her bacon grease, Will cooks bacon for the chowder separately and adds the diced strips with veggies. That way, he said, the bacon flavor won’t overpower the clams. He also pre-cooks the potatoes and adds them toward the end, so they won’t get mushy.

“There are as many versions of clam chowder as there are chefs,” Will said as Meriwether and I began to sample the completed chowder. Over our chorus of yummy sounds, we concluded that Will’s version is terrific.

My next excursion was to the town of Lakeside, just south of Winchester Bay, to find Lee Erbele, chef at the Lakeshore Lodge. When I was a clam chowder judge in Florence, Lynette Wikstrom, the contest’s coordinator, told me of a legendary chowder chef. He had won the contest so many times, Lynette finally asked him to hang up his apron and give someone else a chance. The chef left Florence but Lynette tracked him down to Lakeside.

So did I. Meriwether and I were seated in the restaurant overlooking beautiful Ten Mile Lake. I ordered a bowl of clam chowder, identified on the menu as “award winning.” When it was set before me, all conversation stopped. I did not come up for air until the last drop was scraped from the bowl. It was that good.

Lee graciously emerged from the kitchen to receive my accolades. He told me the secret ingredient of his award-winning chowder was the seasoning—“which I won’t divulge,” he said. But he did share that he prefers canned sea clams (as opposed to ocean clams) and he adds chopped leeks and carrots to the standard veggies. Furthermore, he cooks the leeks and the onion (white, rather than yellow) in bacon grease—just like my mom!

Lee said he shares kitchen duty at Lakeshore Lodge with Manfred Smetana, a chef whose chowder he barely beat in all those chowder cook-offs. So between the two of them, you can always count on getting a delicious bowl of chowder in Lakeside.

Finally, I went back for more of the chowder Cousin Julie and I had loved so much, this time on the chef’s home turf. Meriwether and I went to Quimby’s, a lovely restaurant in Newport’s Nye Beach. The place is so popular we were lucky to claim two seats at the bar.

At the Lincoln City Chowder Cook-Off, Quimby’s Chef Mike Downing told me that his chowder is distinctive because of all the dried herbs—dill, thyme, oregano and rosemary. For potatoes he chooses Yukon gold, because they’re sweet and flavorful.

“I use really good clams,” Mike said. “They’re Greenland deep-sea-caught cockles. I put them in at the end.”

I ordered a cup of his chowder. A couple sitting at the bar did as well. Finally, all the yummy noises got to her. Meriwether ordered a cup, as well.

As we left we peeked in the open kitchen and waved at Mike. “It’s the best,” I said. And that’s my verdict—until I get to the next beach town and taste their best chowder.