New Jersey Locals Are Driving Way Out of Their Way for These Crunchy Fried Clams

I’ve crossed county lines for food before, but this one surprised me. It wasn’t planned.

It just kept showing up in my head on random afternoons.

The first time, I pulled off the road “just to look,” and somehow ended up parked with my windows cracked, listening to gulls and watching the water shift. Then the basket arrived, hot enough to fog the paper for a second.

The clams were small, crisp, and clean-tasting. Not greasy.

Not heavy. Just that sharp little hit of the sea, followed by a crunch that makes you pause without meaning to.

Now I catch myself building weekends around it. Drivers keep drifting to the Highlands for the same reason, and once you try the fried clams at that little spot by the view, you start noticing how easy it is to justify a detour.

1. Legendary Crunch at the Bay

The first bite crackles like a tiny firework, and suddenly the bay breeze feels brighter. At Bahrs Landing, the fried clams hit a sweet spot of salty and clean, with a batter that stays crisp.

You taste ocean first, coating second, and that balance keeps you reaching without thinking.

I watched servers move like clockwork, keeping baskets coming while the dining room laughed over pints. The nautical walls tell a century of stories, but the plate keeps the focus here and now.

A squeeze of lemon snaps the brine to attention, and the tartar sauce is just enough, not a mask.

You will want to pace yourself, yet the crunch demands momentum. I learned to order a side of slaw to reset the palate between clam waves.

When the basket thins, the last strip still cracks, which feels like a small miracle.

Come early on Fridays if you like a quieter hum. From the window seats, boats drift by like scene changes, and your phone stays in your pocket.

The experience is simple, the satisfaction loud, and the drive home feels shorter.

Ask for a light salt sprinkle if you are sensitive. The kitchen listens and still sends out a perfect crust.

Pair with a cold lager or iced tea and enjoy the calm. You will leave with crumbs on your lips and plans to return.

2. Highlands Harbor Bite

Salt in the air makes the clams taste brighter, and you can feel it before you sit. Bahrs Landing faces the harbor like a proud postcard, and those views sharpen your appetite.

I caught myself staring at the tide while the basket landed with a friendly thud.

The breading is thin, crisp, and golden, not oily. Each strip has a clean chew that stops before rubbery, which is the trap many places miss.

Here, the timing is right, and the fry oil tastes fresh.

Dip lightly and let the clam speak. The tartar sauce has a dill spark that I noticed after the second bite.

Lemon adds lift without washing away the sea.

If you like heat, a few dashes of hot sauce bloom nicely. I tried it halfway and liked the way it chased the brine.

The fries on the side play backup, salty and steady.

Service is relaxed but quick, even when the room fills. I asked a server for their favorite tip and got this: sit near the window for breeze and better light.

It is a small touch that makes each crunch feel celebratory. Leave a napkin stack handy, because you will need it.

3. Nautical Nibbles That Wow

Ropes, wheels, and old charts set the stage, but the clams get the applause. Bahrs Landing leans into its heritage without turning kitsch.

I liked how the decor whispers history while the fryer sings present tense.

Texture is king here, and the batter respects the clam. It is a whisper thin coat that crisps then yields.

No heavy grease, no gumminess, just seaside snap.

Ask for a lemon refill if you love citrus. The crew is friendly and rarely says no to a simple tweak.

I appreciated the easy hospitality during a busy lunch.

The basket size suits sharing, unless you arrive absolutely starving. In that case, you might defend it with your fork.

I speak from experience and one surprised friend.

Pair the clams with a simple salad to keep things light. The vinegar dressing plays well with the fry.

Sit by the bar for lively chatter and a closer look at the plates rolling out. You will leave with a grin and a salt-kissed palate.

4. Crisp Secrets From the Fryer

Rumor says the secret is steady oil and patience, and the result proves it. Watching the pass, I saw baskets come out dry and gleaming.

That tells you everything about discipline behind the scenes.

The clams arrive hot but not scalding, so you can dive right in. The batter shatters softly then disappears.

What stays is sweet clam flavor, clean and briny.

I asked a server how they keep it so light. The smile said house technique and fresh pulls.

Whatever the method, it protects the clam without smothering it.

Order a side of pickles if you like a snap between bites. The acid brightens the fry in a fun way.

I found that rhythm addictive and paced my basket better.

When the kitchen is humming, the dining room buzzes with clink and cheer. You can hear the fryer in the background, a faint promise of more.

Sit back, sip something cold, and let the timing carry you. Your table will feel like a seaside picnic with plates.

5. Marina Views, Maximum Crunch

Golden hour turns the marina into a mirror, and the clams gleam like treasure. Sit by the window and you will catch yourself counting masts.

The view slows the meal in the best way.

I planned a quick lunch and stayed long past the last lemon. Time bends here, shaped by tide and chatter.

The staff never rushes, even when the door keeps swinging.

The crunch holds from first bite to final crumb. That is rare, and it kept me hooked.

A light dust of salt kisses the edges, and the meat stays tender.

Order a local beer and raise a quiet toast to the bay. The pairing feels natural and easy.

If beer is not your thing, iced tea cuts the richness nicely.

Parking can fill fast on sunny days, so aim for early afternoon. Check the hours before you go, since opening is late morning.

Bring a sweater if the breeze picks up near the windows. You will leave relaxed, with a happy, salty smile.

6. Old School Since 1917

A century of frying teaches lessons you can taste. Bahrs Landing opened in 1917 and still feels current.

The tradition shows up in simple choices made well.

The room is lively without noise fatigue. Wood, brass, and maritime touches ground the space.

You can sit, breathe, and let the meal set the pace.

Regulars swap stories at the bar like it is a neighborhood porch. I slid into a booth and felt the same ease.

The staff moves with practiced calm that rubs off.

Those clams tell a long, steady story. Nothing flashy, nothing fussy, just trust in good product and hot oil.

When the basics are perfect, every detail shines.

Come curious and a little hungry. Leave with a new ritual and a note in your calendar.

I did, after a second visit sealed the habit. Some places hype themselves, this one simply delivers.

7. Plan Your Perfect Clam Run

Your detour strategy starts with timing and appetite. Bahrs Landing opens late morning, so plan lunch or an easy early dinner.

I target weekdays when the rush is softer and parking is kinder.

Call ahead if you are wrangling a group, or check the site for hours. The team answers quickly and saves you guesswork.

Sit by the window if the weather is kind and breeze is light.

Order clams first so the table revolves around that crunch. Add simple sides that do not fight the star.

Keep drinks cold and unfussy, because the fry already brings the drama.

Bring a friend who understands sharing rules. One basket turns into stories, and that is half the fun.

If you must go solo, enjoy the focus and save room for a scenic stroll.

When you roll out, take Bay Ave slow and watch the water wink. The drive home carries a calm only salt and crunch can grant.

Set a reminder for your next run and thank yourself later. You will be back before your GPS forgets the route.

8. Price and Value

You notice the value first when the basket lands heavy, clams piled like drifted shells after a tide. Each piece is armored with crisp, even breading, not the bulky stuff that cheats you on meat.

The math starts to sing when the crunch stays true to the last bite, no soggy regrets, just lemon-bright snap.

I compare sizes by instinct, weighing price against texture, freshness, and that clean ocean finish. Here, a medium order eats like a feast without knocking your budget sideways.

You leave full, happy, and already plotting a reroute next weekend because value, like crunch, should echo.

9. How to Get There

Plot the route before hunger wins. From the Parkway, exit toward the shore towns and follow the scent of salt and fryer oil curling over the marsh.

Weekend traffic stacks fast, so aim for off hours, and stash a cooler for leftovers you will absolutely pretend you did not plan.

Park near the marinas if you can, because the quickest walks end with the crispiest clams. Cash helps at old windows that never learned chips.

If a line snakes around the shack, stay put. The crunch travels, but freshness rides shotgun.