SoupTale: "Clam Soup" by W. A. Croffut, ed. of "American Queen"
First catch your clams--along the ebbing edges
Of saline coves you'll find the precious wedges,
With backs up, lurking in the sandy bottom;
Pull in your iron rake, and lo! you've got 'em!
Take thirty large ones, put a basin under,
And cleave, with knife, their stony jaws asunder;
Add water (three quarts) to the native liquor,
Bring to a boil, (and, by the way, the quicker
It boils the better, if you'd do it cutely.)
Now add the clams, chopped up and minced minutely.
Allow a longer boil of just three minutes,
And while it bubbles, quickly stir within its
Tumultuous depths where still the mollusks mutter,
Four table-spoons of flour and four of butter,
A pint of milk, some pepper to your notion,
And clams need salting, although born of ocean.
Remove from fire; (if much boiled they will suffer--
You'll find that India-rubber is n't tougher.)
After 'tis off, add three fresh eggs, well-beaten,
Stir once more, and it's ready to be eaten.
Fruit of the wave! O, dainty and delicious!
Food for the gods! Ambrosia for Apicius!
Worthy to thrill the soul of sea-born Venus,
Or titillate the palate of Silenus!