In preparation for the “Northwest Chowder” competition, a group of culinary students and I had to first ask two questions: what is the definition of chowder, and how the heck do you make something synonymous with New England translate to the cuisine of the Pacific Northwest?
Chowder (or chouder in old English) has a definition that is about as clear as roux. It can be red, white or clear, thick or thin, and may include various vegetables, seafood or chicken.
Chowder probably originated in France, and then moved across the channel to England. It was a term used for a fisherman’s stew made at day’s end with whole fish, simmered in wine, herbs, and vegetables. Clams were not a particularly desired ingredient in the early days of chowder cookery.
Looking deep into the bubbling cauldron of chowder’s history in the new world, fresh fish was the star ingredient, not clams.
The thick, milky chowder of today hardly resembles the poor man’s meal of fish, pork drippings, celery, onions, bay leaves, and potatoes cooked in a clear, aromatic fish fumet. Milk and cream were expensive in colonial New England and were not generally used until much later.
Hardtack, the dry wheat flour staple biscuit sometimes used to thicken the broth, became the oyster crackers that accompany chowder in contemporary memory.
Clams eventually took over for fish because they were so abundant and easy to harvest — all it took was a pair of boots and a shovel! Chowder’s popularity also grew into the Friday meatless meal of choice for Catholics in a tradition that continues today.
From its humble roots as a fisherman’s soup, chowder has become a mainstay, even a gimmick in restaurants around the country.
Manhattan-style chowder has a tomato base, San Francisco puts its thick, creamy concoction in a sourdough bread bowl, Baltimore uses its famous blue crabs, and Portland, Oreg. prefers smoked salmon. Even landlocked Kansas City has its own chicken and corn version of chowder with a unique and questionable ingredient, barbeque sauce! (Gates or Arthur Bryant’s sauces if you want to really be authentic.)
In America today, some sort of chowder is served in every waterfront restaurant from San Diego to Cape Cod.
So what is “Seattle-style” chowder? That question isn’t so easy to pin down. From my experience eating and working in several restaurants in the metro area, Seattle-style chowder is milk-based, chunky clam stew reminiscent of New England’s.
A recent cup of chowder at one of my favorite spots, Matt’s in the Market, revealed something different — a thin yet savory, well-seasoned broth of local seafood (not just clams) with Washington grown vegetables and herbs.
At nearby Pike Place Chowder, their amazing tomato-based chowder is full of fresh local clams swimming in a rich red broth with a slight kick.
Daniel’s Broiler on Lake Union serves a more traditional thick and hearty clam chowder, bursting with rich clam flavor. Duke’s Chowder House on Alki boasts several different chowders to choose from, including a cioppinno style with local shellfish, saffron, and tomatoes.
Confused yet? There isn’t a singular, quintessential chowder that defines Northwest cuisine.
Chefs will create variants using their preferences and extraordinary local ingredients, not unlike the cooks in France who first created chowder long ago. That’s what makes the culinary scene in Seattle —and the culinary world in general — so interesting.
Using fresh, local ingredients to forge a new take on tradition is what cooking is all about. As I tell my students, learn the rules, and then have a delicious time breaking them!
Matthew DiMeo is a chef and teacher at Lake Washington Institute of Technology.
