Billy's Chowder House

My Back Down Memory Lane Road Trip ends with a visit to a town for which I have no memories because...I'd never been there before. Let me explain...

It was in July, soon after my wife and I had decided we'd travel east to Connecticut and Rhode Island in the fall.

I was in Chicago. Walking through the neighborhood, heading for one of my favorite book barns. The one on Paulina near Irving.

And the first book I saw when I opened the book-barn door was April In Spain, by John Banville.

I took it out, got hooked on the first few paragraphs and had decided to bring it home, when, from out of its pages, fell a piece of paper.

A memo-pad sheet from, of all places, Howard Johnson's. On which someone with nice loopy old-school handwriting had scrawled...

Billie's Chowder House. Welles, Maine. 25 min. up coast Highway 1.

Signed--Kathryn.

I took that note I found in this book as an augur, an auspice, an omen--call it what you want--telling me I had to go to Maine. And eat that clam chowder.

Something you should know about me and clam chowder. I love clam chowder. It goes back to the distant past that I will be exploring. Many of my earliest and fondest eating memories are of devouring bowls of clam chowder at various restaurants in towns like Bristol, Warwick, and Cranston. 

I'd eat it once a week, if I could. But here's the thing. There are no good places for clam chowder in Chicago.

That's just a sad fact, folks. Chicagoans can do a lot of great things, but they cannot for the life of them make a decent bowl of clam chowder.

It's either too gluey or too salty or too gluey and too salty. So I’m like guy in the Neil Young song. Only instead of mining for a heart of gold, I’m mining for a good cup of chowder.

Anyway…

When I returned from my walk, I showed the note to my wife and she said, wow! This is an omen. 

We looked it up on the internet and discovered there really is a chowder house called Billie's. Only it's spelled Billy's. And it's in Wells, not Welles.

Okay, Kathryn’s not the greatest of spellers.

But she is good at geography. Cause Wells is just up the highway from New Hampshire. Meaning it's not far from Rhode Island. And the internet gave Billy’s rave reviews for its clam chowder.  And so yes, yes, yes, we decided we had to go there! 

The legendary note...

So, my wife booked a room at a hotel in Wells. And after we'd seen all we had to see in Rhode Island, we headed north through Massachusetts and New Hampshire into Maine.

Arriving around 2. And we checked into the hotel. And walked along a lovely beach. Building an appetite until around 5, and I could wait no longer, declaring..

Let's get to Billy's!

We drove right over and I hopped out of the car cause the parking lot was surprisingly crowded, and I had this paranoia that the wait was already long.

But there was no wait. They ushered us to our table overlooking an estuary that glowed in the setting sun. And we ordered our cups and people let me tell you, oh, my goodness, it was well worth the drive.

So butterly delicious. With chunks of fresh clams. And not gluey. And not salty. 

I savored every morsel. Taking small sips to make it last longer. And mopping the bowl with a roll, making it clean enough for the next diner to use.  Not that I'd recommend doing that.

We made it to Billy's!

And then I got the lobster, which was delicious. Though, I must admit, not quite as delicious as the lobster we got at Iggy's in Warwick, Rhode Island. Folks, if you're ever in Warwick, go to Iggy's and get that lobster!

Back to Billy's...

We returned the next day. Got the chowder and lobster again. Which was even more delicious than it was the day before.

And so Kathryn--wherever you are, whoever you are--thank you for the tip!

And everywhere we went in Wells, I told people about the note in that Banville book that brought us to Wells.

My favorite conversation on this topic was with Joe, a retiree who volunteers at the public library in Kennebunkport, just a short drive from Wells. It went like this...

Me: Took 70 years to get here, but I'm glad I got here.

Joe: Don't let another 70 years pass before you come here again.

Me: Not sure I've got another 70 years in me, Joe.

Joe: You and me both, my friend.

I had so much gratitude for finding that note that led me Billy’s that I wrote a note of my own...

For a great cup of chowder, go to Billy's Chowder House--in Wells, Maine. Tell `em Benny sent you.

I slipped it into a paperback I'd been meaning to pass on and stashed the book in that book barn on Paulina.

Hope it helps someone create nice memories of their own.