It’s a Doddle

You have to be careful with mussels. I am not talking about the cooking process, which is a relatively simple affair: as long as you clean them well and take them off the heat as soon as they open rather than allowing them to overcook and dry up, it’s a doddle. The care is in making sure they are spanking fresh and yet, not quite.

Some years ago we found ourselves tootling around some rock pools in Donegal on a balmy August afternoon. Not only did we have the whole sandy beach to ourselves, but also the low tide exposed huge colonies of fat mussels on almost every rock. We were, sad to relate, ridiculously greedy and brought back buckets full of the glistening bivalves for our supper. With a glad hand we rinsed and bearded the mussels and then stewed them with a little onion, white wine and parsley. They were hugely plump, looked incredibly appetising, and were massively disappointing. Much as I like salt, these mussels tasted purely of the salt water from which they had so recently been plucked and therefore proved completely inedible.