The Taste Bud: Hokkigai was the Lost Element in my Sushi Journey
Hokkigai are not only visually appetizing, but they’re sweet and pleasant to taste. Photo by Kevin Gibson
When I was a kid, fried seafood was a favorite in my family, and that usually meant a “fish box” from Clarksville Seafood or Hungry Pelican, with breaded cod or whitefish, fries, coleslaw and hush puppies. Clams? Usually way too exotic.
But then, one time, my mom got fried clams for her dinner, and let me try a couple. They were salty, chewy, not terribly flavorful – but they were different and kind of weird, and the only other clam I’d ever had any experience with tried to eat Robin on the old “Batman” TV show.
So, I went on a clams tear, eating them any chance I got, thinking at age 13 or so that I was being highly adventurous and cool (early signs of my developing food nerd-dom). Of course, later clam chowder made its way to my palate, and one of my favorite dining experiences of my life involved eating fresh-shucked oysters and Cherrystone clams at the Union Oyster House in Boston, which is reputed to be the oldest restaurant in America.
But even as an avid sushi lover and frequent consumer of sushi for many years, I had somehow never ordered Hokkigai, or surf clams, in the raw. Squid? Yep. Octopus? Uh-huh. Quail eggs? Check. But never clams, for some odd reason. So as I prepared to dine at Osaka Sushi & Japanese Cuisine recently, I pored over the menu, craving something different for my palate to ponder, and landed on Hokkigai sashimi, not fully knowing what to expect.
When my food arrived, it was easy to spot the Hokkigai – four good-sized clam slices, sort of triangular in shape with a creamy, off-white color that fades into a deep red as it tails off at the narrow end. To call them appetizing doesn’t quite cover it — they lit up my dinner presentation.
I grabbed one with my chopsticks – they were thinly sliced, so they weren’t super easy to keep a grip on – dabbed it in my soy sauce, and took a bite. Not unlike the first clams I ever tasted, they were a chewy consistency, similar in texture to Tai, or red snapper. The flavor is lightly sweet up front, with a touch of brininess on the back end, and if you haven’t tried clam sashimi and intend to, you’ll probably quickly compare it to red snapper as I did. But the more of it I explored, the Hokkigai distinguished it as being pleasantly mild and clean in a different way.
In doing a quick Google search, I read that surf clams “are deep harvested 125-190 miles (200-300 km) offshore in the North Atlantic waters, which are mostly untarnished by pollution. These waters are full of nutrients and very cold,” which contributes to that delicate flavor.
If you decide to dive in, definitely order surf clams as sashimi because the flavor is so mild – probably best not to fade it further by adding rice. I learned soy sauce can overpower it a bit, especially if you’ve added ample wasabi. But perhaps best of all, the Hokkigai paired nicely with the mild and sweet Asahi beer I washed it down with.
Surf clam sushi probably isn’t my new go-to, as it doesn’t boast the more robust buttery flavors of salmon or escolar, so I won’t be chasing it the way 13-year-old me chased the fried clams. But I will definitely order it again, and it’s well worth a departure if you aren’t already on the surf clam train. You never know when or where you might find your new favorite food. Who knows, maybe I’ll even relent and try sea urchin again. (No, I lied. I hate that stuff.)
