As a clam shack that made good — meaning it expanded to double-decker digs — Flo’s knows better than to lose track of what makes such places popular. The original Portsmouth location is still an Island Park landmark. The larger Middletown restaurant was hoppin’ on a recent Friday night, with the designated "OverFlo’s" parking area across the street filling up rapidly.

The standard details are here: Thick dock rope railing outside, lobster floats and coarse netting decorating the inside, barn board walls upstairs, and the requisite aquarium. You get your choice of ambience. Families might prefer the booths downstairs or the tables upstairs, across from the rollicking bar. You can also sit at a counter outside and face the lapping waves, if an ecce quahog meditation over stuffies is more your style.

Flo’s Portuguese "fiery stuffed quahogs" ($1.95) are famously, opinionatedly, spicy hot — they don’t want to leave the Tabasco to you, in case you get the heat wrong. The menu makes clear that opinions from the kitchen are to be taken seriously. For example, the Greek salad ($6.50) is certified to be "made by a Greek." Someone evidently feels that fried food is made to be enjoyed with beer, so you may have your soda cup filled with Budweiser, instead of Coke, with your combo plate. And will someone please tell me what "R.I. Lunch Hot Cheese" (available by itself or on a hot dog) is?

A gang of us straggled in, the more to sample one another’s choices. One must start, of course, with clam chowder ($2.95/$3.95). The white comes recommended, creamy but not cloying. The "Flo’s classic clear" isn’t as bodacious with clam juice as I prefer, and the Rhode Island red version — not to be confused with herby Manhattan clam chowder — just dilutes it some more with a little tomato, so I’d go with the white.

Equally obligatory are clam cakes, which Flo’s touts as "World Famous . . . over 30 million sold!" (The place opened in 1936, after all.) A half-dozen, $2.75; a dozen, $4.25. The greaseless condition of these was commendable, considering how the last clam cakes I’d had (elsewhere) were so greasy that most were tossed with my empty chowder container. But, alas, the strict Rhode Island tradition of virtually clam-free clam cakes was scrupulously adhered to. (Why not call them slightly clam-flavored dough balls, to save the pointless suspense?)

With a yen for fried clams, and since these are billed as "Flo’s famous clams," I figured I’d give my weakening faith in chest-thumping self-advertising another shot. Glad I did. These fried clams were among the best I’ve had. They’re lightly flour-dusted, fat as little seaside sumo wrestlers, and sweet enough to make me imagine them in an extensive feeding program prior to frying — clams all lined up at a heaping table of, oh, maybe tiny corn muffins.

The fried clam platter, with acceptable French fries and a packaged tub of decent coleslaw (think summer, think salmonella), was $13.95. Someone ordered a clam strip platter ($7.95), and the featured components were perfectly tender, if sadly belly-free. The clam cakes established that grease wouldn’t be a problem with either choice. Slickened fingers were a bit more in evidence, but not much, with the fish sandwiches ($5.75) ordered by two in our party. Thick cod filets, battered, but not too thickly. Johnnie is always wary of fish and chips because of this concern, but she didn’t pick off too much of the batter this time.

The last person at the table had a lobster roll ($9.95 á la carte, $11.95 on a platter). The meat was sweet, if not very plentiful. For those not so into cholesterol, bear in mind that even with the mayo on the side, this particular shellfish is loaded with the stuff. To avoid the Fry-o-lator by going the baked or grilled route, you can get grilled shrimp scampi ($8.50), served with wild rice and a salad. But that’s the sole such offering on the menu. The words "Baked Seafood" hover ambiguously below the platter list, and a few such specials are posted on the marker board at the bar.

There are no desserts on the menu at Flo’s. I passed a table where everyone was having a Friday-night special, $9.95 prime rib — twice as thick as you’d expect. For that price, maybe they were having them for dessert.

Prices are cheap here, but you will have to bring at least a little cash — no credit cards are honored and the ATM was broken during our visit. Maybe you can also bring a few bottles of canola oil and barter. Bless their hearts, Flo’s must risk running out on busy nights.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at billrod@reporters.net