July 23rd, 2005, 1:20 pm
Recipe! Spicy Mussels in White Wine
Wow. Aren’t you just falling in love with these? Words can’t describe how luscious my first-ever batch of mussels were. Fresh Prince Edward Island Mussels, kept live on ice until they were plunged into a sea of garlic, olive oil, and spicy white wine. Chewy in the best way possible, addictive, tender. Best of all? It’s so simple, anyone can do it. And it only takes half an hour!
OH, MY ACHING MUSSELS
First things first: the mussels. Cooked them before? Skip ahead. If not, listen up. Buy them fresh. Make sure they’re closed tightly — live mussels have this intense muscle that keeps their shell closed to protect against danger.
When you get home, give the slightly opened shells a rap. If they don’t close … they’re dead. And that’s a problem, cuz you don’t know if they died here, or in Novia Scotia, three days ago. Eww. Throw the dead ones away.
Keep your mussels as cold as possible, to prevent them from dying. I went to the Dekalb Farmer’s Market in Atlanta, and was nicely provided with some ice. I’d brought a lil cooler with ice in it too, which those puppies hung out in until killing, er, cooking time.
Give ‘em a good washing in cold water. If they’ve got grit on them, scrub it off. If they still have their beards on ‘em — yikes, go someplace that will debeard them for you.
Squeamish Cook’s Note. Yep. They’re alive. You cook them alive. When you pick them up, you can feel them kinda wiggling, and pulsing. They make funny little squeaky noises.
You’ll want the widest, shallowest pan you’ve got to cook your mussels in — the idea is that you’re steaming these little guys, so ideally, they would be spread in a single layer. I adopted a recipe from (natch) Epicurious.com for Spicy Mussels in white wine. Here goes.
Liberally pour olive oil all over the bottom of your pan, medium-low heat. Add half of a sliced onion, and six cloves of chopped garlic. Sprinkle in red pepper flakes and salt to taste. Let the onion brown slightly. Try to contain yourself when the heady aroma of garlic and onion fills your house.
WINE DON’T YOU BEGIN?
When the onions are soft and unctuous, pour in a cup of white wine. Add a sliced lemon, and a handful of chopped cilantro. Bring to a boil. It’ll smell like booze … but that will pass as the alcohol boils out of the sauce.
MUSSEL ON IN THERE
Those poor little mussels have been hanging out for ever, smelling that garlicy goodness and hoping for sweet (ok, savory) oblivion. Give it to them. Pour the mussels in, and cover the pot. Let ‘em steam — approximately 3-5 minutes. When they start to open, pluck ‘em out, and place them in an appropriately large and shallow bowl.
Here’s where you gotta be careful … any mussels that don’t open after an appropriate amount of time are dead, dead, dead — having died an inordinate amount of time ago. They don’t make the journey to your plate!
PLATE IT UP! When all of the lovelies have been plated up, toss a knob of butter into the remaining sauce. Let it melt. Add what you will to your mussels … I added some blanched asparagus, and chopped tomato.
Get that big old pot of garlic sauce, and lavish it over your mussels. Stuffy food writers will tell you to strain the onions and lemons out; screw ‘em and pour it on.
More chopped cilantro, warm crusty bread, some wine or beer of your own … not so bad, food fans.
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