“These drive me insane,” says Chris Fischer, a hardshell clam in hand. The chef, a Martha’s Vineyard native and 12th-generation islander, is standing under a low sky on a sliver of seaweed-strewn beach. “Insane in a good way.” In one muscle-memory-honed move, he shucks, slurps, and swallows. After a pleased sigh, he tosses the shell onto the sand.
“My dad used to feed me these when I was in diapers,” he tells me. “It’s like I have a Pavlovian response to them or something.”
He reaches down into the half-bushel bucket he and his father have just filled from the cold, salty waters of Menemsha Pond, grabs another clam, and readies his pocketknife.
The Vineyard is an island, about 100 square miles, off the coast of Massachusetts, and a world…