Rodney Dangerfield, the legendary king of “no respect” comedy, had some hilarious and classic one-liners about seafood and fish. For example, he lamented that “Some seafood restaurants lack originality and have the same signs. These signs often say, ‘The fish you eat today slept last night in some bay.’ When ordering fish, the only concern is how it is prepared. Where the fish slept or who it slept with makes no difference. A fish might taste better if it was morally bad.”
Long-suffering readers have endured ad-nauseum missives about me having grown up in land-locked New Mexico before advances in transportation and refrigeration made fresh seafood available to the masses. We didn’t even have Rodney Dangerfield’s “morally bad” fish. For me and my siblings, “seafood” was Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks and Gorton’s breaded shrimp. Sure, my dad and Grandpa Max introduced me and my brothers to Northern New Mexican rivers teeming with German brown trout, cutthroat trout and rainbow trout, but that hardly qualifies as “seafood.” Worse, the one of us who caught the least amount of fish had to clean everyone else’s fish. Almost invariably that was me.
Obviously, the Duke City and landlocked New Mexico are at a disadvantage when it comes to just-caught, fresh-off-the-boat seafood, but modern transportation and advances in refrigerations has made next day delivery of fresh seafood a reality. The other elements–foamy waves crashing along the beach, pristine sands as fine as talcum, marine layers of soupy fog in the morning–we’ll just have to imagine. If you’ve ever had the privilege and pleasure of having lived on either coast, your imagining comes from having lived those elements. Thirty-something years after having left Massachusetts, I still pine for the seafood to which I was introduced. For nearly two years, I must have devoured a boatload of shrimp, lobster, clams, oysters, scrod and other delicacies of the sea.
My very favorite seafood was fried clams. If you can imagine what New Mexico would be like without green chile or Texas without barbecue, you can understand what New England would be without fried clams. Like our beloved green chile, fried clams are an iconic food, so much so that they are almost synonymous with states like Maine and Massachusetts in which they are harvested and sold. It’s almost a wonder the license plate mottos in at least one of those two states isn’t “The Fried Clam State.” As with the Land of Enchantment’s cherished chile, fried clams have a distinctive, unforgettable flavor that not everybody “gets.” Similar to chile, those who love fried clams are usually ensnared at first bite by this distinctly delicious delicacy. Like green chile, fried clams are positively addictive and have a flavor that once enjoyed imprints itself indelibly upon your taste buds and your memories.
Howard Johnson’s and its once familiar orange roof was a ubiquitous sight along the highways and byways of America throughout much of the twentieth century. “HoJo’s” conceptualized signature menu items such as 28 ice cream flavors, cultivating an image that it was a very special, homey place. One of its most popular offerings was fried clams. A centralized commissary and the processing and pre-portioning of foods gave Howard Johnson’s the advantage of consistency–an inland Howard Johnson’s served fried clams that tasted exactly the same as those served at a Howard Johnson’s in Cape Cod.
My first visit to Howard Johnson’s after returning to New Mexico proved a very disappointing venture of unrequited love. Instead of the plump, sweet and miraculously delicious whole bellied clams I had fallen in love with, HoJo’s served “clam strips,” what my favorite clam shacks in New England might have discarded entirely. According to a New York Times article in 2005, the clam strips served at Howard Johnson’s were “made from the tongues of enormous sea clams whose bodies were used as the base for the restaurant’s famous clam chowder.” It’s no wonder I didn’t like them.
You might think fried clams would be almost as scarce in Arizona as they are in New Mexico. Thank goodness that is not the case. In fact, the Phoenix edition of Yelp lists “Top 10 Best fried clams Near Phoenix, Arizona (Last Updated 2026). Ten restaurants in Phoenix serving fried clams! I might have to move to the Valley of the Sun. First on Yelp’s list is a seafood and sushi restaurant named Bluewater Grill. With seven locations (six in California), every location of the Bluewater Grill is a reflection of the community it belongs to. Frankly, I’m not quite sure what that means when the community to which it belongs is Phoenix where summer and fall temperatures would boil the ocean.
Bluewater Grill promises “fresh sustainable seafood.” Bluewater Grill was established in Newport Beach in 1996 and has since grown into a family of seafood restaurants, located in resort communities, committed to serving guests pristine seafood, sustainably caught, and prepared classically or with a modern twist. Its operating statement is “to serve great food in a casual, relaxed environment by friendly and knowledgeable people at a fair price.” No two Bluewaters are exactly alike. The restaurant changes its menu four times annually to reflect seasonal availability of seafood and local ingredients. Perusing the menu is a delightful adventure. Even if you know exactly what you plan on ordering, it’s never too early to make plans for future visits.
As with so many meals in Massachusetts, there’s no better way to start than with New England clam chowder (sea clams, cream, celery, potato, onion and herbs). Traditionally served with oyster crackers because their dense, buttery crunch perfectly balances the rich, creamy texture of the soup, excellent New England clam chowder is best without crackers. That’s the way I had it at Bluewater Grill. Clam chowder is a rich, creamy, and hearty soup that tastes like a comforting, savory blend of the ocean, butter, and aromatics. Its flavor profile is distinctly “briny” and ocean-forward, balanced by a velvety, milky base and the smoky depth of aromatics. To a former denizen of the Bay State, New England clam chowder tastes like home.
My causa visitationis, of course, was to revisit the fried clam feasts of my youth in Massachusetts. Bluewater Grill offfers the best. That’s fried Ipswich whole belly clams (fried in a lightly seasoned flour and served with French fries and coleslaw). Ipswich, Massachusetts is famous for its fried seafood—particularly the celebrated “Ipswich clam.” Ipswich clams (technically Atlantic soft-shell clams) are distinguished from other clams by their thin, brittle shells that never fully close, a prominent long neck (siphon), and a prized soft “belly”. While other common clams are typically served as shucked strips or in chowders, Ipswich clams are famous for being prepared and eaten “whole belly,” offering a uniquely sweet and briny flavor. Aroma is said to serve as a primary progenitor of memory, but aroma isn’t nearly as satisfying as tasting. Tasting Bluewater Grill’s fried clams is what transported me back to the Massachusetts of my youth. It’s a trip I hope to make often.
Bluewater Grill
1525 East Bethany Home Road
Phoenix, Arizona
(602) 277-3474
Website | Facebook Page
LATEST VISIT: 16 July 2026
# OF VISITS: 1
RATING: N/R
COST: $$$$
BEST BET: Ipswich Whole Belly Clams, New England Clam Chowder, Sourdough Bread
REVIEW #1532