Q. I watched the "short-necked clam battle" the other night on Food Network, and one or two of the dishes they cooked up looked pretty good, and I thought I would invite a few friends over and prepare my own short-necked clam dishes, but I can't seem to find any available around here. The lady at the Winn-Dixie seafood shop didn't know what I was talking about and went so far as to say I was crazy for asking. Bruno's has closed, and I was thrown out of the Waffle House when I asked what short-necked clam dishes they had on their menu. JoAnne, just what the heck is a short-necked clam, and where do I have to go to buy some? I want to be able to say, "the short-necked clam battle is over!" in my own kitchen. Thank you for your time.
— "Louis P. Russell"
A. You just never know when a little something is going to come along that will expand your vision to realms never before imagined. Such is the case with this question. Who'd ever have thought that I'd spend a sunny Saturday in March delving into the exotica (and even erotica) of a lowly mollusk? Before your question, I never even knew a clam had a neck. (I also didn't know about clam cytoscopy (a kind of surgery of the bladder!) or that the Church of Scientology has a Web site called the ClamBed, where you can find out about a special lie detector-type machine that reads your true nature and is favored highly by John Travolta and Priscilla Presley.)
I knew, of course, about "no-neck monsters" from Blanche Dubois, and I even went to school with a few of them. I'm also well acquainted with long-neck beer. The redneck and the turtleneck are familiar to me, as are rubbernecking and, yes, just plain necking. And only recently I discovered the colorful local cultural icon known as "the pencil-neck geek." But never had I knowingly come into contact with a short-neck clam.
And, yes, a clam does have a neck. It's between the tube-like siphon (through which the clam gets water and stuff) and that gelatinous goo that we eat. (I guess we eat the neck, too—I've never heard of denecking a clam—but I can't swear to it.) Not only is the neck small; the whole clam is just a couple of inches long, shell and all. The short-neck clam is also called the asari clam. Clams also have a mouth and teeth, but these are not anywhere near the neck. Go figger. And a clam's got a foot, too, but no toes. (FYI: Among the 15,000 clam varieties, the largest is nearly five feet long! How much of that is neck I don't know.)
Now, to your basic question: Where can you get some of these little delicacies. They seem to have a lot of them in China, Japan, Korea and Viet Nam. I've found for you some fish markets in Ho Chi Minh City that will ship them to you, frozen. Try Anh Truc or Acquatic Products Trading Co. first. I believe you'll be quite happy with the short-necks from either of these. If, however, you prefer to dig your own, I recommend the estuaries of Oregon. The good thing about digging short-neck clams is that their necks are too short for them to to get very deep so you don't have to do much digging. Look for them in the eel grass, near the cockles. And the good thing about digging them in Oregon, according to Mr. Kenn Oberrecht, is that it requires "no license, little equipment, and no trendy attire." (Humph! I'd wear trendy attire if I wanted to. When I was in the eighth grade, I bought some pants known as clam diggers. You're welcome to borrow them. They certainly won't fit me anymore—come closer to fitting the clams.
Actually, I've been thinking we might get somebody to stock the Yazoo River with short-necks. Maybe some of the Nissan folks can bring us back some short-necks from Japan next time they go. Yazoo short-necks—just think of it!
Hope this puts an end to the short-neck clam battle in your kitchen." Bon Appetit!