clambake?

i went to a clambake this past weekend. it was run-of-the-mill and not too exciting from a culinary perspective. (albeit, it was fun and it marked the end of a season as president of a non-profit organization, but still. ubiquitous steamers. lobsters. corn that wasn't in season. rolls that barely passed as bread. you know the drill.)

the experience started me thinking. what would it take to have a REAL clambake? you the kind: beach front. fire pit. seaweed. i want the full monty of clambakes. what will it take to accomplish that in fairfield, connecticut? we're new england! ok, granted. many consider us just a suburb of new york, but that's beside the point.

i’m sure there will be a permit involved and all sorts of other town-related firey hoops to jump through. nothing short of police and fire safety will be involved. (if I invite the cops and the firemen and entice them with a great menu and enough wine, will it be less of a hazard?)

we shall see what we shall see. stay tuned for my quest for a real new England clambake…