I went to Brighton Beach on Saturday. With Sven. We walked — slowly, Sven's pace now, which is the pace of a twelve-year-old dog with stiff hips and a patient heart. We walked to the beach and we sat on the rocks and the lake was blue and the ships were on the horizon and I did not try to identify them.
I will never identify the ships. That was Paul's gift, not mine. But I can see them. I can watch them move across the horizon, slow and enormous, carrying iron ore and wheat and the weight of human commerce across the largest freshwater lake in the world. I can see them and I can know that Paul would name them and I can hold both the seeing and the not-naming and the gap between them is the shape of his absence.
Sven sat beside me on the rocks. He didn't chase sticks. He didn't bark at waves. He sat and he breathed and the breathing was labored — slightly, the way an old dog breathes, with effort, with the lungs working harder than they used to. I listened to his breathing and I thought about Paul's breathing and I thought about how this house has contained two different declines and how I've been the one listening to both.
The listening. I'm a listener now. I listen to Sven's breathing. I listen to the lake. I listen to the house at night — the silence where the machines used to be, the silence that's not silence but the echo of hissing and beeping that my ears still expect.
I made a beach-day dinner: smoked fish chowder. The Lake Superior fish, from the Park Point smokehouse. Potatoes, cream, dill. The most Duluth soup. The soup that tastes like the lake, Paul said once, years ago, before the machines and the machines' silence.
I ate it at the table. Two places. One bowl. The chowder was thick and warm and it tasted like Saturday and like summer and like the years when Paul and I would come home from the North Shore drive and I'd make this exact chowder and he'd eat two bowls and say, "This is the lake in a bowl."
The lake in a bowl. The lake in a cup. The world in a cup. Paul's cups. Paul's way of measuring the world.
I put the soup in the bowl and I put the bowl on the table and I said, "The lake in a bowl, Paul."
Sven's tail thumped. That was enough.
The smokehouse fish I use for my version isn’t always available, and the recipe I keep coming back to — the one that gets closest to what Paul meant when he said "the lake in a bowl" — is this pressure-cooker clam chowder. It has the same thick, briny warmth, the same heft of potato and cream, the same quality of tasting like somewhere specific. On days when I come home from the beach with Sven and the ships are still sitting on my mind, this is the soup I make: fast enough that I don’t have time to second-guess the sitting down to eat it, and good enough that I always eat it slowly anyway.
Pressure-Cooker Sonoran Clam Chowder
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 4 slices bacon, chopped
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 poblano pepper, seeded and diced
- 3 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cubed (about 3 cups)
- 2 cans (6.5 oz each) chopped clams, juice reserved
- 1 bottle (8 oz) clam juice
- 1 cup chicken broth
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons cornstarch
- 2 tablespoons cold water
- 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (optional, for serving)
- Oyster crackers or crusty bread, for serving
Instructions
- Sauté the bacon. Set your pressure cooker to the sauté function. Add the chopped bacon and cook, stirring occasionally, until crisp, about 4–5 minutes. Remove bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pot.
- Cook the aromatics. Add the onion and poblano to the drippings and sauté until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and cook another 30 seconds, stirring constantly, until fragrant.
- Build the base. Add the cubed potatoes, reserved clam juice, bottled clam juice, chicken broth, cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, and cayenne. Stir to combine. Season lightly with salt and black pepper.
- Pressure cook. Seal the lid and cook on high pressure for 8 minutes. Allow a quick pressure release when done.
- Thicken the chowder. Switch back to sauté mode. Whisk the cornstarch with cold water until smooth, then stir into the pot. Add the heavy cream and clams. Simmer gently for 3–4 minutes, stirring, until the chowder thickens to your liking. Do not boil.
- Finish and serve. Taste and adjust seasoning. Ladle into bowls, top with the reserved bacon and fresh cilantro if using. Serve with oyster crackers or a thick slice of crusty bread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 740mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 226 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.