If there's one thing I've learned from a few embarrassing encounters with food, it's this—if something looks too intimidating to eat, it's best left alone.
As I hesitated over a plate of strozzapreti topped with clams, mussels, and an intriguing, unusual-looking shellfish at a seaside restaurant in Rovinj, the passing waitress caught my uncertainty. It sat there untouched, the kind of shellfish that often gets discarded on the side of plates of the uninitiated.
“Ah, this one,” she said with a knowing smile. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
She guided me with clear, practiced ease. "See that fleshy bit at the joint? Give it a pull."
I did as she instructed, tugging hesitantly until, to my surprise, a small hole appeared.
“Now insert the tip of a knife into the hole and give it a twist,” she encouraged. I grabbed my knife, inserted the tip into the opening, and with a slight twist, the shell popped apart, revealing the briny, meaty interior—denser than a mussel, richer than a clam.
We were intrigued. You think you've encountered all the seafood the Mediterranean has to offer, only to be reminded of how much remains undiscovered.
Back in Malaysia, curiosity got the better of me. I messaged the restaurant on Facebook, asking what the shellfish was. They replied with the following image, explaining that it was a Kunjka or Noah's Ark clam—so named for its resemblance to a barnacled relic. Native to the Adriatic, it was rarely seen on menus beyond the region.
Translated from Croatian using the image feature in Google Translate.image source - https://www.skitopisi.com.hr/
One of the greatest joys of traveling is the thrill of uncovering something completely new and extraordinary—an experience that lingers in your memory, enriching your world and perspective.