Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Breaking the dam

I’ve been going through a culinary dry spell of late. My muse has just not been singing for the last two weeks. I’ve been rather content to rest on my laurels, professionally, (which, when I catch myself doing such a thing, infuriates me to no end) until I was faced with a challenge. One of my clients wanted mussels.

“Yeah, so? Cook them some mussels and get over yourself.”

I’m a lover of all things shellfish and make a mean cozze in bianco or a red curry broth for the mussels, but I needed to do something different, something that I’ve never done before-something to end the culinary constipation. I started thinking about flavors – the musky, gaminess of the mussels. What would go well with that? Well, ginger, garlic, maybe some lemongrass; but something was missing - the earthy funk of dried mushrooms.

OK, so I’ve got a broth, but it’s a little boring. What would liven the flavor up? Some heat, some tart, some sweet might be nice. But what if I put that into the broth? Would those flavors get muted and lost? I started thinking about oysters. Not the oysters that you get on the beach for $6.50 a dozen, with a side of cocktail sauce and some Saltines; the oysters that you pay $15 a dozen for in the fancy restaurants. What about the ubiquitous mignonette (for lack of a better description, an oil-less vinaigrette) that comes with them? What if I had the earthy broth, with a hot, sweet, tart dip for the mussels? All right, now I’m on to something.

Making the broth is pretty simple, there’s no need for a real recipe. I took 1 bottle of clam juice, a piece of ginger root about as big as my thumb and sliced it, 2 cloves of garlic- sliced, and 2 stalks of lemongrass – which I beat the crap out of with the back side of my knife and cut into 3 inch pieces. I put these together in a skillet, along with a fist full of dried mushrooms (I used matsutake mushrooms that I found at Oceanic Market). I brought this up to a simmer and then lowered the heat and let this steep for 20 minutes; just like making tea.

While the broth was steeping, I made the mignonette. For that I used:

Zest and juice of one tangerine
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 red jalapeno chili - stemmed, seeded, and minced
1 tablespoon minced shallot
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Mix these together in a bowl – you’re done.

After 20 minutes, I strained the broth. I didn’t have to, and you don’t either. I didn’t want the chunks of lemongrass and ginger in the finished broth, so I strained it. Put the broth back in the pan and bring it to a boil. Add 1 pound of mussels and slap a lid on it. Wait about 3 minutes and lift the lid. If the mussels are open, it’s done. If not, put the lid back on, wait one minute, and check again. When the mussels are done, eat them right out of the shell, with the broth, and dip them in the mignonette.

Now for the gotcha; I didn’t teach you how to make mussels. I taught you how to create a recipe. Start with a main item – mussels. Next, a technique – steaming. Finally, think about the flavors that the main item has, and flavors that will play them up and accent them in a way that you find pleasing. In my case, it took two different mediums to convey the flavor that I wanted. Most often, you can do this in one, but don’t limit yourself.

**Oh yeah, I finally posted something that can be cooked in 30 minutes.

No comments: