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Easy
Published 2013
I closely guarded my razor shell collection as a boy, keeping my findings in a little wooden box, occasionally poring over them like a miser over gold coins. I had no idea that this currency was the scabbard of a creature I would grow up to eat with a passion.
Seeing razor clams bundled like Cuban cigars in an elastic band, pale feet lolling out like the tongues of tired horses, I feel sad, as I’m sure they also have the gentlest of temperaments. The problem is they are delicious an