Postcard from Sakkonet Garden
The day after Fourth of July, Alex, opa Volker, and I enjoyed a clam shack lunch of perfectly fried fish and chips, rather-doughy clam cakes, and unctuous Rhode-Island-style clam chowder1. We had stopped at Evelyn’s Drive-In on our way to our 2PM reservation at Sakkonet Garden, which was only a few more miles further south on Route 77. Although we were right on schedule, so was the forecasted rainstorm. A downpour started almost immediately upon pulling out of the drive-in’s parking lot. Thankfully, it left almost as quickly as it arrived, ebbing to a sporadic drip by the time we drove right past the diminutive, faded, wooden sign denoting the garden’s presence.
After making a U-turn in a nearby driveway, Volker parked the car alongside the only other vehicle in the grassy lot. We waited a couple more minutes for the dregs of rain to pass before getting out and walking towards the entrance to the semi-walled garden. The owner of the property was waiting in a weathered wooden hut near the garden’s entrance, flanked by two elderly Cardigan Corgis hiding from the weather. He asked for the name of our reservation. As Alex gave him the information, Volker asked how long he’d been gardening this property. “35 years,” was his response.
“I’ve been driving up and down this road for 50 years and I had no idea this was here,” said Volker.
“Good,” responded the owner with a smile. “That means we’re doing something right.”
We continued past the hut and through the arched entrance and, well, I’ll just say that more than “something” had to go right for this to be the result…
No cream, no veggies, just a clear broth with lots of clams and potatoes, finished with butter