Five Wonderful, Wild, and Hyper-Local Dishes of Southeastern Massachusetts

Thanks to last year’s launch (finally!) of the commuter rail to Fall River, New Bedford, and the surrounding area, it’s particularly easy to take a culinary tour of the southeastern swath of Massachusetts. Dubbed the South Coast, this region is a magical, liminal space: Somehow all at once it’s Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Portugal, with time-jumping layovers through the immigration-influenced past. And even better—the area is home to some wild, wonderful, and delicious hyper-regional cuisine. All aboard for five of these must-try bites.

Awful Awful

“IT’S A DRINK”—so goes the quote on the cups of this dreamy milkshake concoction at regional chain Newport Creamery, with locations in Fall River and Seekonk, along with six more in Rhode Island. Still, Awful Awful, we have questions. Just what are you, why are you so good, and why are there no commas in your name?

The restaurant, which was founded in 1928 in (you guessed it) Newport, Rhode Island, dishes out ice cream, hearty breakfasts, and comfort food—though it’s most loved for the Awful Awful. Which, according to local lore, gets its name because it’s “awful big, awful good.” The thick and indulgent drink replaces ice cream with a signature ice milk, which contains less dairy fat, with flavors amped up by syrups.

“It’s richer and more filling than a typical milkshake and has a loyal following thanks to its unique texture and classic flavor,” says Katelynn Dodson, business manager of Newport Creamery. “It’s been a staple of the region for generations.” While the standard Awful Awful comes in ten flavors ranging from the classic (vanilla and chocolate) to the slightly kooky (cotton candy, anyone?), a very scientific and entirely-not-biased study conducted by this author has concluded that coffee is the ultimate flavor. The sip is sweet and not cloying, thick and cooling enough to pair with a breezy drive out to the beach. Think of it like a sippable summer vacation.

But wait, there’s more: Gander the “topping & fancies” sign outside the walk-up window of the Fall River location on President Avenue, which lists bourbon caramel, hot fudge, and cookie dough pieces as ice cream additions. It’s unclear just what the difference between a topping and a fancy is, so your best bet is to try them all.

Michael’s Provision chouriço franks. / Official Website

Chouriço Hot Dogs

We could spend several hundred words on Portuguese cuisine alone; in fact, we already have in our South Coast-heavy Portuguese dining guide here. But beyond the area’s colossal steaks and soulful seafood options, one favorite dish stands out as a United Nations-esque transatlantic diplomatic alliance: the chouriço dog, a marriage of the all-American hot dog and the Portuguese pork sausage that’s heavily spiced with paprika and garlic. Unlike the thick sausages you can buy at spots in Fall River like Portugalia Marketplace, a chouriço dog is svelte enough for a hot dog bun and could pair well with a dollop of ketchup and mustard at your next cookout.

Both locations of Nick’s Hot Dogs in Fall River deep-fry chouriço dogs to order and serve them with your choice of toppings, such as tangy Coney Island sauce. You can also pick up chouriço dogs (plus leaner linguiça dogs) made by Fall River-based Michael’s Provision and/or North Dartmouth-based Gaspar’s at grocery stores in the South Coast, and often at Stop & Shop in Dorchester’s South Bay shopping center. To kick up your next cookout, toss them on the grill and wait until the skin gets blistered and slightly black in spots before you dig in.

But wait, there’s more: Those same purveyors sell chouriço patties to toss between hamburger buns and top with cheese (either classic American cheese, or tangy Portuguese São Jorge cheese). Different shape, same delivery system for big flavors. In the wonderful land of southeastern Massachusetts, chouriço can be many things—also a pizza topping, for instance, or stuffed inside a sub roll with hand-cut French fries (a chouriço and chips grinder).

Mr. Chen’s chow mein sandwich. / Photo by Dominic Chen

Chow Mein Sandwiches

Not to be confused with another regional cult classic, the chop suey sandwich of the North Shore, the chow mein sandwich is a Fall River original. The seemingly random equation of this dish—a hamburger bun plus fried chow mein noodles plus gravy equals delight—has cultural cross-pollination to thank for its genesis, as do other items on this list. It traces its roots back to the early 1900s, when Chinese restaurant owners were looking for ways to make their cuisine more familiar to waves of European immigrants. Turns out the sandwich is a culinary lingua franca, and the affordable (not to mention delicious) dish took off.

Most versions at local restaurants add bean sprouts and sliced celery to the mix, and the sandwich is a savory flavor-bomb of contrasting crunchy and soft textures. To be fair, the chow mein sandwich is a sandwich in the barest sense of the word: Sure, there’s a hamburger bun involved, but you have to eat it with a knife and fork (unless you want gravy-soaked noodles in your lap). Still, that doesn’t dim the dish’s clear star appeal, as evident when the region collectively melted down when Oriental Chow Mein Co., the Fall River-based company that has produced the noodles since 1938, temporarily stopped production because of a manufacturing mechanical failure, leading to “no-chow-mein May.” Fear not, because the machines are whirring again and cranking out noodles. Find the dish at Mr. Chen in Fall River (where you can add chicken and other proteins to the mix), along with Roger’s Family Restaurant in Somerset.

But wait, there’s more: Oriental Chow Mein Co. also produces the noodles for Hoo-Mee Chow Mein kits, which come with noodles and a gravy packet for you to make the delicacy at home. Find them in the international aisle at local supermarkets or online.

Stuffed quahogs. / Photo by dippy_duck via Flickr/Creative Commons

Stuffed Quahogs

At their shell, stuffed quahogs (alternatively called “stuffies” around Rhode Island) are pretty basic. A stuffing of bread, meat, spices, and chunks of quahog—a large hard-shelled clam—is packed into a quahog shell and baked until golden brown. But like the shimmery purple bands inside a clam shell, the story behind this dish is more vibrant.

Indigenous peoples in the area, including the Narragansett and the Wampanoag, harvested and cooked clams long before English settlers arrived (see “Q is for Quahogs” in our ultimate New England seafood guide), and these culinary traditions led to the New England favorites of clam chowders and clam boils. The influence of Portuguese immigrants over the last 200 years added to the culinary melting pot (er, clam boil pot?) of the Indigenous-British-American dish.

The regional Portuguese version is made with breadcrumbs or crackers (or, ideally, day-old papo seco bread sourced from a local Portuguese bakery) plus chopped chouriço, quahog, and a generous amount of parsley and spices. The appetizer-like bite is rich and savory, with a sea-forward kick: Most versions call for reserving some of the briny boiling leftover liquid to toss it into the stuffing before baking. Find it at plenty of South Coast restaurants. One of our faves is the Cove in Fall River, where a spacious deck overlooks the Taunton River—pair the view with stuffed quahogs and a squeeze of fresh lemon.

But wait, there’s more: New Bedford brand Whaler sells both hot and mild stuffed quahogs online. Or better yet, start at the Cove and then hit the specialty markets around Fall River—like Chaves Market and David’s Fish Market—where they offer quahogs to go.

Venus de Milo’s minestrone soup. / Courtesy photo

Venus De Milo Soup

We have Venus De Milo, a Swansea restaurant and function hall that’s been family-run since the 1960s, to thank for two culinary legends. The first is Emeril Lagasse, who got his start working banquets there, first in the mid-1970s when he was a junior at Diman Vocational Technical High School in Fall River and then for a few years while attending Johnson & Wales University in Providence. The second? Venus De Milo’s famed minestrone, a soul-warming soup with ground beef, vegetables, and pasta.

Venus sells takeout half-gallons of the soup, which—especially during the winter months—basically keeps the community from wandering into the frozen Taunton River. That’s why when the spot closed during COVID, then switched to takeout only for a while, then went on and off the real estate market, everyone’s blood pressure spiked as they wondered just how much soup they could fit in their freezer if the supply dried up.

In another pivot, Venus announced in late 2023 that it would reopen soon for in-person dining after extensive renovations to the vintage, Rat Pack-chic spaces. At the time, I envisioned a feature story about the scrappy function hall and how places like it are often the setting for our best and worst memories—from weddings to bereavement brunches—and called up Lagasse for his take. “They do something really special there and I’m glad to hear they’re opening back up,” he said in October 2023. The reopening, and thus the story, didn’t quite pan out; Venus delayed its plans to resume regular onsite dining. But in the meantime, the location still hosts events and offers takeout, including oven-ready catering pans of prime rib to warm up at home—and, of course, the soup.

But wait, there’s more: “They have baked stuffed shrimp with a butter cracker topping that I really loved,” Lagasse also says.