Whenever, wherever and for whomever I prepare mussels, I feel a strong sense of nostalgia. It means that, regardless of the culinary direction that takes my fancy, it feels like home to me.

Alastair says…

I grew up in Ireland, the son of an Irish daddy and an Australian mummy. In a country criss-crossed with a lattice of loughs and waterways – and the fact you are never more than 90 minutes from the sea – seafood was abundant and pristine. On a Sunday we would take a family drive down the Ards Peninsula, take the ferry from Portaferry over to Strangford, and stop at Ardglass harbour for a few pounds of mussels. We would take them home and enjoy them steamed with garlic, onion, white wine and cream. I remember gorging on them using a mussel shell like a pair of tweezers. I recall ladling the cooking liquor into a mug and gulping the savoury briny broth. I can taste it now. I call to mind the happiness this cauldron of mussels and bread gave us as a family.

Not all relationships are easy. Mussels and I started our professional affair in an old, stained concrete sink in Glasgow. That kitchen was home for a long time. We received mussels every day by the stone weight, in net bags direct from farms across the west coast of Scotland. I can still hear the bang and the clatter when I tipped them into the grey trough-like sink. The mussels arrived covered with barnacles, seaweed and other detritus. With freezing hands, my job was to meticulously inspect each one for broken or chipped shells, and to scrub off the barnacles. Heavy ones were either full of seawater or full of sand. I got to know the difference. Each marginal mollusc got a brisk tap on the side of the sink. Any that were slow to close were binned. No-one wants a slothful mussel.

Whenever, wherever and for whomever I prepare mussels, I feel a strong sense of nostalgia. It means that, regardless of the culinary direction that takes my fancy, it feels like home to me.

YOU CAN CATCH ALASTAIR MCLEOD ON THE NEW SEASON OF READY STEADY COOK, AIRING FRIDAY NIGHTS ON 10 AND 10 PLAY.

 

Spiced Mussels With Sobrassada and Sherry

 

Ingredients
Serves 2

60ml extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons sobrassada
1 red capsicum, seeded and coarsely diced
2 golden shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
½ bulb fennel, thinly sliced
3 Roma tomatoes, peeled and diced
2 bay leaves
1 clove garlic, thinly sliced
2 teaspoons smoked paprika
Sea salt and freshly milled pepper
1kg fresh clean mussels
125ml dry sherry
3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley

Method

Swirl olive oil into a pre-heated medium-sized pot over a high heat. Stir in sobrassada, capsicum, shallot, fennel, tomatoes, bay, garlic and smoked paprika. Season and cook until the vegetables have softened.

Add the mussels and stir well to combine. Add the sherry and put on a tight-fitting lid. Cook for 3–4 minutes, giving a shake every minute to ensure they cook evenly. The mussels should, save for a few recalcitrant ones, all open.

The next consideration is the sauce. If it’s a pleasing consistency, serve immediately. If not, remove the mussels with a slotted spoon and continue to boil hard until it reduces to a nice sauce then pour over the mussels and scatter with parsley.

NOTE Sobrassada is a raw, cured, spreadable salami from the Balearic Islands.

Published in ed#707