"Musseled" Up

In the early summer of 2009, I had taken a week off of work in celebration of my birthday. In past years, this usually meant a big pool party, lots of friends, along with an all-day imbibing of good brew. However, this past year, for whatever reason, I had the week alone to myself to relax, read, and try some new recipes.

I had often seen recipes online or in magazines, or even on the Food Network for Mussels. Having been raised vegetarian, these barnacle-looking shells seemed better suited stuck to the side of an old boat or a dock pylon rather then on my plate. But all of the recipes looked so good, and having already fallen in love with so many other seafood dishes, I thought I would give it a try.

I picked up all the ingredients, and having no idea of how to choose mussels, I just grabbed a two pound bag from the seafood section of the local grocery store. Arriving home, I tossed the bottle of wine in the freezer for some quick chilling since I wanted to have a glass while I cooked. I set to work on piling the mussels in a collander in the sink and started scrubbing them and trimming the beards. It was slow going as I really had no idea what I was doing, and found that almost half of the mussels were already dead and unusable (they should be tightly closed, or if they open, should reclose upon tapping on them, or so I have read).

After about 20 minutes of picking through and cleaning the usuable critters, I grabbed the bottle of wine and commenced removing the cork. Or at least attempted to remove the cork. I don't know if it was from sitting in the freezer, or simply the fact that I was using a corkscrew that was smaller then those that come on a swiss army knife (I forgot that I had an awesome electric one down at the bar in my basement). At any rate, I spent probably 10 minutes yanking on the cork to no avail. I began to panic since the garlic, fennel seeds, and red pepper flakes were simmering mightily on the stove and were nearly ready for the wine and other ingredients to be added. Meanwhile two more mussels died in the sink, but whether it was from warming up and lack of moisture or hearing me scream expletives at a wine bottle, one will never know.

Finally, I overpowered the stubborn cork, poured myself a glass and added the additional amount to the simmering pan just in time. I quickly downed the glass of wine, and poured another and then added the remainder of my sad little mussels, who whistled away in the hot liquids. To the vegetarian in me, it sounded like dying screams, but apparently they do that when cooking.

The dish somehow came out perfectly. I am not sure how I pulled it off, since I understand that mussels and shellfish in general are very easily overcooked. But this dish was most excellent. The fennel seeds added an excellent flavor along with the kick of the red pepper flakes. Even with losing half of my mussel population I still had plenty to go with the pasta and this recipe makes enough for a couple of people at least. Alone I ate it for three meals.

Have no fear in trying new things in the kitchen. Even when all seems to be going awry, sometimes you get lucky and end up with a beautiful and tasty dish. I followed the recipe below exactly and didn't find the need to make any substitutions. So have a glass a wine and get cooking, because everyone has something to bring to the table.


This recipe was from Gourmet Magazine/July 2009. And can be currently found on www.epicurious.com

Linguine w/ Mussels and Fresh Herbs

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 large garlic cloves, sliced
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1/4 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
1 cup dry white wine
2 pounds cultivated mussels, scrubbed
1 pound thin linguine
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 1/2 cups chopped herbs such as basil, dill, flat-leaf parsley, and oregano



Heat oil and butter in a 5-to 6-quart heavy pot over medium heat until foam subsides. Cook garlic, fennel seeds, and red pepper flakes with 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper, stirring, until garlic is softened, 3 to 4 minutes. Add wine and boil until reduced by half, 4 to 5 minutes. Add mussels and cook, covered, shaking pot occasionally, just until mussels open wide, 5 to 8 minutes. (Discard any that remain unopened after 8 minutes.) Remove from heat and keep warm.

Meanwhile, cook linguine in a pasta pot of well-salted boiling water until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup cooking water, then drain linguine.

Toss linguine with mussels and any liquid from pot, cheese, and herbs. Thin with reserved cooking water if desired.