When I see clam strips on a menu, my memory takes me back to this building. I also like to sneak an order in when Michelle isn’t looking.
Most people recognize this place as the Robinson Ale House, but for me, it’s the Howard Johnson. Its orange exterior has since been painted to take on its more modernized existence. I remember it as the place my father and I went to eat his favorite fried food. My father loved clam strips and would travel anywhere to find them. My Dad brought me here in the 1970’s, back when Asbury was less than safe. I often think that if Mom knew we were dining here, she would have erupted beyond measure. It was our secret, and this building will always have a special place in my soul.
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