The regional table / Rhode Island
Rhode Island Clear Clam Chowder with Clam Cakes
Take the milk out of a New England chowder and you do not get a lesser chowder. You get the older one, and the one Rhode Island kept.
The oldest chowders in American print have no milk in them. Lydia Maria Child, The American Frugal Housewife, Samuel S. and William Wood, New York, 1838, cooks clams in nothing but their own liquid: they should boil about fifteen minutes in their own water, no other need be added except a spoonful to keep the bottom shells from burning, and once open they are taken from the shells, washed in their own water and put in a stewing pan while the water is strained through a cloth so as to get out all the grit. Then the clams are simmered in it ten or fifteen minutes with a little thickening of flour and water, half a dozen slices of toasted bread or cracker, and pepper, vinegar and butter to your taste — and one flat line at the end: salt is not needed. Mrs. A. L. Webster, The Improved Housewife, Hartford, 1852, builds receipt 144 the same way, pork fried brown, floured fish and crackers and sliced onions in layers, water just sufficient to cover them, and two teaspoonfuls of flour stirred into the gravy at the end. She adds that clams make a tolerably good chowder and that the hard part of the clam should be cut off and rejected. Neither book has a drop of milk or a spoonful of tomato in a chowder.
Milk and tomato both arrive later, and the name of this state arrives with them. The printing of the Boston Cooking-School Cook Book I could read, whose copyright line runs from 1896 to 1906, gives seven chowders on pages 141 to 144, and one of them is headed Rhode Island Chowder: a quart of clams with a cup of stewed and strained tomatoes, a quarter teaspoon of soda to hold the acid down, a cup of scalded milk, a cup of scalded cream and crackers soaked in cold milk. That is milk and tomato at once, and it is the recipe a McClure syndicate column carried out to the Georgia weeklies under the same title in May 1924. So the phrase Rhode Island Chowder, in national print, meant the opposite of the thing Rhode Island eats. What the state has instead is practice. The Providence Journal account reprinted in the Savannah Morning News of 28 August 1885 — headed Rhode Island's Clams: From Churning for Quahaugs to Cooking the Chowder by Barrels — describes three hundred gallons of chowder as an average course for an excursion party at Rocky Point, and clam cakes swimming in two hundred pounds of lard on top of a big oven at the rate of five barrels of flour a week, and never once says what goes into the chowder. Neither does anything else I could reach: a Providence charity cookbook of 1916 prints a soup chapter and a fish chapter with no clam, no quahaug and no chowder in either. The proportions below are this site's own, worked out for this page; what is documented is what is left out.
Why this version works
Nothing in it can break. Farmer prints a warning under her milk chowder that the clam water has a tendency to cause the milk to separate, and her Rhode Island Chowder needs a quarter teaspoon of soda to keep tomato and cream in the same bowl. Leave both out and the whole class of failure goes with them: this pot can be boiled, held, cooled and reheated without curdling.
Quahogs, not soft clams. The Rhode Island State Census of 1865, quoted in the same federal survey, counted 31,697 bushels of clams against 9,241 of quahaugs; twenty years later the Providence Journal reported that the Rhode Island clam was going out of use for chowder because it has too much grit in its belly and makes a chowder not agreeable to look at, and that two-thirds of the chowder clams were now quahaugs. A clear broth shows every fault, which is why the bay changed clams.
The broth is the entire liquid. Five pounds of quahogs steamed in four cups of water come back as about six cups of clam broth, and that is the whole of what goes in the pot — no stock, no water to make up, no milk. Ernest Ingersoll, writing up the clam fisheries for the federal survey published in 1887, called chowder a thick sort of broth, which is exactly the consistency you are aiming at and nothing like a cream soup.
The cakes run on the same broth. A clam cake is not a fritter with clams in it, it is clam broth made solid enough to fry. The receipt in the Gainesville Eagle of 3 December 1880 is one cup of clam broth, flour, one egg, cream of tartar and soda, dropped from a spoon into hot lard — no milk, no water. An earlier one in the Georgia Citizen of 19 February 1858 chops the clams fine and thickens their liquor with flour to the thickness of pancake batter. Both are the cake Rhode Island still fries.