Woodman’s of Essex

Fried clams at the station

Whole clams go through evaporated milk and corn flour before they meet the fryer. Franco de Lazo, Executive Chef at Woodman’s of Essex in Essex, keeps that station tied to the dish that marks both his name and the house. The method reaches back to Lawrence “Chubby” Woodman and Bessie Woodman, who opened the roadside clam shack on Main Street in 1914. On July 3, 1916, a Gloucester fisherman, Mr. Tarr, suggested frying clams in the oil used for potato chips. Chubby tried it, then brought the result to the town’s Fourth of July parade.

De Lazo works inside that inheritance rather than beside it. His role is executive, but the authority of the kitchen still gathers around repetition: clams, rolls, chowder, onion rings, trays moving from the line to the room. The restaurant’s family stewardship remains visible through Stephen Woodman, a third-generation CEO and grandson of the founder, and Maureen Woodman, third-generation director of catering sales. Their work keeps the old structure in use while the fry station continues to carry the clearest authorship. Fried clams are not treated as a relic here. They are the daily measure.

Corn flour, fryer heat, and the long way

The preparation is direct enough to expose any lapse. Whole clams are dipped in evaporated milk, covered in corn flour, and deep-fried, a sequence that depends on the hands as much as the recipe. The house’s account of the method includes breading between the fingers so the clam takes a full coat before it goes into the oil. Nearly all fried items use a gluten-free corn flour batter, while onion rings, clam cakes, and sandwich bread sit outside that pattern.

That detail matters because the menu does not hide behind complication. Chubby’s Original Fried Clams anchor the line, with clam rolls, lobster rolls, chowder, french fries, and combination plates filling out the shoreline table. The Down River Combo brings whole fried clams, jumbo shrimp, scallops, and fish into one tray. The Fisherman’s Platter adds shrimp, fries, and onion rings to the same grammar of crisp seafood and paper-lined abundance. De Lazo’s discipline is consistency under volume, keeping the batter clean, the timing firm, and the food immediate.

The room around the counter

The room works like a seafood shack that has grown without losing its first posture. Wood, trays, screened windows, picnic tables, and a counter rhythm set the pace. In summer, the line carries the sound of families arriving in layers, some led by grandparents who know the smell before they reach the door. The top deck looks toward the marsh, with air moving through the screened windows and the full bar set behind the room’s easier noise.

Expansion has left marks: a lower deck and more outdoor seating came in the 1960s, and the Essex Room followed in 1973 as the catering side took shape. Still, the working center remains the pass between fryer and table. Food leaves the station quickly because it has to. Fried clams lose their point when they wait.

A family method still in motion

The restaurant has moved through more than 100 years and five generations, but its strongest claim is still practical: a clam, coated by hand, fried for a waiting tray. Chubby Woodman’s later mobile clambake system carried that same instinct into trucks, boilers, wood fires, and gatherings beyond the beach. De Lazo’s kitchen keeps the nearer version of it, close to the counter, where the order that matters most is Chubby’s Original Fried Clams.