cristina potter, call your office

Sometimes, culinary experiments result in memorable dishes. Sometimes, they result in trash bin catastrophes.

And then there are the anti-Goldilocks moments. They are not quite right, but they take some time to consider.

In my earlier life, I regularly frequented a local spaghetti house in Salem. Usually, I ordered the same meal. Spaghetti: half with meat sauce, half with clam sauce. The clam was my favorite. And like a five-year old eating ice cream in Sioux City, I would often mush the two together.

Even though clam sauce is easy to make, I have experimented with it here only a few times. That is partly due to the problem of finding heavy cream or half-and-half. Now that Hawaii stocks it regularly, it was time for me to whip up something new.

The clam sauce is nothing more than a roux-based white sauce with chopped clams. If I prepare the clams myself, I use the broth to flavor the sauce. If I use canned clams, I use the liquid in the can. (Calling it a broth would be a culinary transgression.)

And that is the weak point in every clam sauce I have made. It does not have enough sea-taste. Any lover of clam chowder knows what I mean. The sweetness of the roux hides the magic taste of the clams.

At first, I thought it was the sweetness of the butter and cream and that I could counter with serrano chilies. That did not quite work. The serranos added a surprising bitterness.

Then, I tried the obvious for a sea flavor. Oyster sauce. Fish sauce. Even mixed with Worcestershire sauce, they just did not add the taste I wanted.

While looking in the refrigerator tonight for a solution, my eye caught a yellow and blue jar that I had almost forgotten was there. You met it in inky dinky risotto earlier this year. Squid ink. It was a natural.

And it worked perfectly.

Yes. Yes. I know what you are saying. The photograph looks as if I had dumped axle grease on my spaghetti.

There is no denying that the inky look is not necessarily pleasing to the eye. I am not certain why, but black foods are not universally enjoyed. I was going to dress it up with a mint sprig, but I decided to give you the full frontal deal without embellishment.

I do not mind the color because I know what the ink does to food. It adds an umami layer to seafood-related dishes that cannot be duplicated. I was introduced to inky food in Venice with cuttlefish cooked in its own ink, and I have been hooked ever since.

I will admit that the visual impression is better with dishes where the ink is added to oil-based dressings. The thickness of the floured sauce tonight gives it a heavier look in black than in the traditional white -- just the opposite of the slimming effect black usually gives.

I do not see squid (or octopus ink) used much in seafood dishes here. But it is very common in some parts of Mexico. I suspect the Spanish imported the practice with their Mediterranean-based cooking. Whether or not the pre-Colombian tribes used the technique, I do not know. But I bet Cristina Potter over at Mexico Cooks! does. How about it, Christine?

For me, the dish is a welcome return to Mexico. I will be in Barra de Navidad for about three weeks, and then I need to once again fly north to wrap up some loose ends with Mom.

Until then, I may be slipping ink into several other dishes.