A couple of weeks ago, in an attempt to throw a jolt of romance into our increasingly busy lives, I decided to cook a romantic dinner for my husband. Seafood is always a fan favorite in our household, so I decided on steamed mussels with white wine. I like to call it Moules au Vin Blanc, which is entirely made up and somewhat grammatically correct. On our honeymoon in Quebec, I had the best meal of my life, consisting of unlimited (!) mussels for the bargain basement price of $14.95 (Canadian, no less!). We went to a fantastic small restaurant specializing in seafood, and each bowl of mussels came in a different flavor, with beer and mustard being my favorite. I have such happy memories of that evening, so I made an attempt to recreate it.
Step 1: Procure ingredients from grocery store. I find everything I need, and march confidently up to the seafood counter. I scan the offerings: Salmon, tilapia, clams galore, oysters...not a single mussel in site. Surely they must have some in the back? We're talking mussels here! Far less glamorous than the oyster, for certain. So I ask the friendly-looking man behind the counter if they have any mussels:
Author's note: In this exchange, the use of an ellipsis (...) indicates an extraordinarily long pause between spoken words.
Me: Excuse me, sir? Do you have any mussels?
Seafood guy: Muss-ullls? No m-ayyyy-am...Aye only have claaaaaaams...and OY-stahs...
One of the perils of living in a non-coastal area, I suppose. The guy's thick southern accent truly made my day, however.
The life and times of a 20-something Northerner transplanted to the South
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