Geoduck


January 30th, 2022.


Today I'd like to talk about perhaps one of the strangest organisms that people eat, the geoduck.

Pronounced "gooey-duck." The word apparently is derived from the Salish words for "genitals," "dig deep," or some combination of the two.

While I was at home over winter break, my family decided to order some oysters, and the vendor happened to also sell geoduck. I had eaten it before many times before, but never had tried preparing it myself. In Chinese cuisine, geoduck is a highly-coveted delicacy, due its rarity and supposed aphrodisiacal qualities (see the image below). In this post, I wanted to give an overview of what exactly a geoduck is, and show how it's not really so different from the clams and oysters we encounter more frequently.

The unmistakably phallic form of a live geoduck.

Unless you happen to live in the Pacific Northwest, where these unsusual animals grow, it's rather unlikely you'll encounter these without seeking them out. Geoducks are native to and only really found on the west coast of Canada and the northwest of the US (Washington state and British Columbia), though nowadays there is huge demand in China resulting in large-scale cultivation. You can in fact go visit the beaches in Washington and try digging for them yourself during low tide, but there's a mightly challenge of catching them while they burrow into the sand extremely quickly. (For your edifiction, there are some wonderful videos of burrowing geoducks.) Although the typical specimen reaches a few pounds at maturity, there have been some reported at fifteen (!) pounds and three feet in length. Nevertheless, geoducks are closely related to many species of clams more commonly eaten, even if their garguantuan size makes consumption more challenging. Thus, I think it might be helpful to start by discussing the generic class of organisms of which geoducks represent only a single species, the molluscs.

What is a mollusc?

Much of the following information I have taken from Harold McGee's tome On Food and Cooking as well as the Wikipedia page on molluscs. Molluscs are a group

Phylum, more specifically. Recall perhaps from introductory biology that living organisms are split into domains first (molluscs are classified as eukaryotes), then kingdoms (animals), and then phyla (molluscs), followed by classes, orders, etc.

of invertebrates which possess an enormous range of shapes, sizes, and uses. These contain a large number of what we refer to culinarily as "shellfish," including things from bivalves (clams, oysters, mussels, geoducks) to cephalopods

Cephalopod comes from Greek for "head" (cephalo) and "foot" (pod).

(octopuses, squid, cuttlefish) to gastropods

"Stomach foot."

(escargot, i.e. snails).

The point of this is simply to say that we eat a lot of molluscs, and many of them don't look anything alike. Undergirding this diversity lies a remarkably consistent body plan which radiated over millions of years of evolution

Molluscs are some of the oldest creatures on Earth, having been thought to arisen approximately half a billion years ago.

to produce the range of architectures we see today. I'll go into a little more detail in the following section, but gist of it is that molluscs possess three major parts (quoting from McGee here):

p. 223

a muscular "foot" for moving; an intricate assembly that includes the circulatory, digestive, and sexual organs; and enveloping this assembly, a versatile sheet-like "mantle" that takes on such jobs as secreting materials for a shell, supporting eyes and small tentacles that detect food or danger, and contracting and relaxing to control water flow into the interior.

These three parts are reorganized and prepared in various methods for eating. For example, people primarily consume the mantle of octopuses and squid, which forms the smooth exterior of their main body segment, and the tentacles, derived from the foot. On the other hand, with something like an oyster, we typically will consume the entire mollusc. I'll discuss the case of the geoduck in the following sections.

Geoduck anatomy

Geoducks don't have a particularly unusual anatomy, as far as molluscs go, but rather the scale is enlarged. The trunk-like appendage which emerges from the shell is in fact a siphon which lends them their fanatical burrowing abilities. If you inspect the siphon closely, it has two holes, one an intake valve and the other for ejecting waste. The large mass inside the shell is essentially the "intricate assembly" consisting of the gills and viscera (reproductive/circulatory/digestive systems) covered by a membranous mantle. Finally, the shell is held shut by a (relatively weak) adductor muscle, which is the part of a mollsuc you would eat as a scallop. Interestingly, because the siphon has to work much harder than the muscles in the body, its texture is more dense and toughens quickly when cooked. This informs the preparation of geoduck, which features primarily raw or fast-cooked methods.

Preparing and serving geoduck

When you first obtain a whole geoduck, its siphon is covered in a rather wrinkly skin and the shell remains tightly closed if fresh. Although it may seem baffling as to what you should do with it, turning it into edible state actually is much simpler than you might imagine. Chichi Wang has a wonderful description of the simple procedure at Serious Eats: simply bring a large pot of water to a boil, drop in the whole geoduck for no more than ten (yes, 10!) seconds, and then quickly transfer to an ice water bath to arrest cooking. The brief blanch loosens the skin and the shell, which allows you to remove the shell and pull the skin off the siphon (yes, a rather uncomfortable procedure, I know). You can then detach the siphon from the body and cut everything into small pieces for whatever dish you desire.

The siphon, as I mentioned before, tastes best raw, thinly sliced on a bias, and served simply with good soy sauce and wasabi, but it can also be dressed up into a pretty crudo with fresh herbs (perhaps mint or cilantro), crisp vegetables, and a good glug of extra virgin olive oil. The flavor is rather inimitable, with a unique sweetness and clean marine savoriness which you often get from scallops, but intensified. The siphon also has a very distinctive texture that people often describe as "crunchy," though I would say not so much in the sense of fried chicken as in the succulence of fresh green vegetables.

The body of the geoduck, on the other hand, is better suited to either short cooking to preserve its tenderness or stewing to break down connective tissue. At Chinese restaurants, the (less-desirable) parts are chopped roughtly and then stewed into congee. The geoduck's chew lends a wonderful contrast to the silkiness of good congee and yields a delicious seafood broth. On the other hand, one can also sauté the body very briefly (no more than one minute, probably) in some butter and white wine or vermouth, as I did, to emphasize its buttery texture and flavor. Serious Eats suggests an Asian flavor profile with chilis, fish sauce, and garlic, which I bet would also taste incredible.

The takeaway is that geoduck is really not that difficult to prepare, despite its terrifying appearance and frequently expensive prices. I hope you've come away with an understanding of these strange and delicious creatures and perhaps even feel informed enough to try one if you get the chance! Thanks again for reading, and as always, any comments or thoughts are greatly appreciated!


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Last updated January 30, 2022.