The Bounties of The Black Pearl
12/05/08 00:40
You feel like
sitting down for a bit, Luc asks me - and I swear I can
see some mischief in his eyes. It’s a saturday
afternoon and we’re walking around Newport, a small
coastal town in Rhode Island. Jacob isn’t here, he
was simply to hung over to endure the 25 minute drive
from Providence, so we left him there, standing all
red eyed and pale skinned, but with the spirit of a
soldier who knows he is doomed, and yet urges his
comrades to move on. Valiantly we see him waving
goodbye to us in the rearview mirror, but we agree
that his sacrifice must not be in vain.
Sure, I say and look around to see what dangers can possible lurk in the shadows of this idyllic little town (having read a lot of Stephen King I know these are the most dangerous of them all). He crosses the street and opens the door to a small, black, wooden building - the shape of a shotgun shack, only older than the the term itself. As I enter I notice the old sign hanging suspended over the door: “Welcome to The Black Pearl”.
You remember I told you about the local chowder, he continues as we sit down at a small table at the far end of the rectangular room - just next to an old couple enjoying a fresh lobster salad and a glass of cool white wine. I recollect talking to him about the cuisine of Rhode Island, and especially how good the seafood is, so I nod reluctantly - not sure if I really need food right now.
Well this is where you get the best damn chowder, and I think I’ll have a Bloody Mary to go along, he says with a smile to the waitress taking our orders. When in Rome, I think to myself and order the same, fearing the repercussions from my body, should I actually choose to drink it. We sit and talk about the history of the area and especially all the lovely food that will be available to us during the next week.
As it turns out Rhode Island is an oasis of delightful food. They have the italian cuisine in the italian part of Providence, they have direct access to the atlantic which provide them with all the different fish and lobsters you could ever wish for, and to top it of the have and almost endless number of bars all around the cities. And just as important: it’s 60 x 77 kilometers in size so everything is available to you on any given day.
But at this very moment the waitress, henceforth known as my guardian angel comes in with my freshly made clam chowder and, after getting my permission, grinds some fresh black pepper on top of it. I look at Luc who is already well into his bowl, and decide to go for it. And in the name of all that’s sacred: if you are ever in Boston (40 minutes by train), New York City (150 minutes by train) or anywhere near the state of Rhode Island do yourself the favor of staying a night, travel to Newport, go to The Black Pearl and order a clam chowder. It is a simple cream based chowder made from clams, potatoes and some seasonings I could not identify. But it was worth the travel and more so.
The Bloody Mary just made it all the better. It was in the spicy end of the Bloody Marys I’ve had, but as a compliment to the fresh pepper and the potatoes and cream it was just perfect. When we leave the establishment full but not overeaten and just a wee bit light headed from meeting Mary I have to concede that Luc was right: They do serve the best damn clam chowder right here in Newport, Rhode Island.
Tomorrow I’ll be serving Luc and Nathan, with whom we are staying, a traditional danish meal: Meatballs with potatoes and a fresh parsley gravy based on butter and milk. Hopefully they’ll enjoy it just half as much as I enjoyed the clam chowder.
Sure, I say and look around to see what dangers can possible lurk in the shadows of this idyllic little town (having read a lot of Stephen King I know these are the most dangerous of them all). He crosses the street and opens the door to a small, black, wooden building - the shape of a shotgun shack, only older than the the term itself. As I enter I notice the old sign hanging suspended over the door: “Welcome to The Black Pearl”.
You remember I told you about the local chowder, he continues as we sit down at a small table at the far end of the rectangular room - just next to an old couple enjoying a fresh lobster salad and a glass of cool white wine. I recollect talking to him about the cuisine of Rhode Island, and especially how good the seafood is, so I nod reluctantly - not sure if I really need food right now.
Well this is where you get the best damn chowder, and I think I’ll have a Bloody Mary to go along, he says with a smile to the waitress taking our orders. When in Rome, I think to myself and order the same, fearing the repercussions from my body, should I actually choose to drink it. We sit and talk about the history of the area and especially all the lovely food that will be available to us during the next week.
As it turns out Rhode Island is an oasis of delightful food. They have the italian cuisine in the italian part of Providence, they have direct access to the atlantic which provide them with all the different fish and lobsters you could ever wish for, and to top it of the have and almost endless number of bars all around the cities. And just as important: it’s 60 x 77 kilometers in size so everything is available to you on any given day.
But at this very moment the waitress, henceforth known as my guardian angel comes in with my freshly made clam chowder and, after getting my permission, grinds some fresh black pepper on top of it. I look at Luc who is already well into his bowl, and decide to go for it. And in the name of all that’s sacred: if you are ever in Boston (40 minutes by train), New York City (150 minutes by train) or anywhere near the state of Rhode Island do yourself the favor of staying a night, travel to Newport, go to The Black Pearl and order a clam chowder. It is a simple cream based chowder made from clams, potatoes and some seasonings I could not identify. But it was worth the travel and more so.
The Bloody Mary just made it all the better. It was in the spicy end of the Bloody Marys I’ve had, but as a compliment to the fresh pepper and the potatoes and cream it was just perfect. When we leave the establishment full but not overeaten and just a wee bit light headed from meeting Mary I have to concede that Luc was right: They do serve the best damn clam chowder right here in Newport, Rhode Island.
Tomorrow I’ll be serving Luc and Nathan, with whom we are staying, a traditional danish meal: Meatballs with potatoes and a fresh parsley gravy based on butter and milk. Hopefully they’ll enjoy it just half as much as I enjoyed the clam chowder.
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