Outlander Kitchen

Steamed Mussels with Butter from DIA

I sat on a chest against the taffrail, enjoying the salty breeze and the tarry, fishy smells of ships and harbor.  It was still cold, but with my cloak pulled tight around me, I was warm enough.  The ship rocked slowly, rising on the incoming tide; I could see the beards of algae on nearby dock pilings lifting and swirling, obscuring the shiny black patches of mussels between them.

The thought of mussels reminded me of the steamed mussels with butter I had had for dinner the night before, and I was suddenly starving.  The absurd contrasts of pregnancy seemed to keep me always conscious of my digestion; if I wasn’t vomiting, I was ravenously hungry.  The thought of food led me to the thought of menus, which led back to a contemplation of the entertaining Jared had mentioned.  Dinner parties, hm?  It seemed as odd way to begin the job of saving Scotland, but then I couldn’t really think of anything better.

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 6 – Making Waves)

I worked under 3 French chefs during my time in professional kitchens.  This recipe belongs to the first.

Chef P. was my culinary skills instructor.   The crusty son of a Parisian bakery owner who went on to cook in some of Europe’s greatest restaurants, he was never short of a story — once the work was done and every last pot lid was put away — he would often regale us with a tale from the kitchens of old.  My favourites were from his childhood, in his father’s bakeries, where he learned from master bakers who started everyday outside the back door, cigarettes in hand, feeling the early morning air before returning inside to mix the day’s doughs according to their temperature and humidity readings.

Those early lessons influenced Chef P. — he was all about using your instincts in the kitchen.  Ask him how long to cook something, and he would invariably shake his head in exasperation, growl “Until it’s done!” then peer quizzically at you, as though the knives in your proverbial drawer were a little dull, before turning to answer the next “silly” question.

(I did say he was crusty.)

The secret to Chef P’s mussels with butter is what he put in his butter.

Compound butter, or beurre compose, is a mixture of softened butter and flavourings used in sauces, or atop vegetables, meats and seafood.

This is a slightly simplified version of Chef P’s original mussel butter, which we made in 10lb batches with a few extra ingredients that aren’t common in the average home-kitchen pantry.  My version is a little easier to put together and still packed with flavour.

Besides, I couldn’t, in good conscience, give away another chef’s secrets.  At least not all of them.

When you purchase mussels,  make sure they are fresh and alive:

• Choose mussels that have securely closed shells.  (That said, mussels left undisturbed will open their shells slightly. Tap open shells firmly.  If the mussel closes, it is still alive. If the mussel doesn’t close its shell, discard it.)
• Avoid mussels with broken, cracked or split shells.
• Ensure the shells are damp and shiny. They should smell like the ocean, not fishy.
• Store them in the refrigerator packed in damp newspaper or cloth.  Avoid plastic containers or bags which will suffocate them. Wait to clean them until just before cooking.

(Click on the title below for a printable version of the recipe.)

Steamed Mussels in Butter from DIA

Packed in-shell in aromatic butter and topped with toasted bread crumbs.  Claire would have enjoyed these alongside a lightly dressed green salad, to balance the mussels’ buttery richness.

Serves 4 for dinner

• Butter, soft – 1 Cup
• Shallot, minced – 1
• Garlic, minced – 2 cloves
• Tomato paste – 2 Tble
• Fresh Lemon Juice – 3-4 Tble (from 1 lemon)
• Fresh Parsley, chopped – 2 Tble
• Dried Thyme – 1 tsp
• Freshly Ground Pepper – ½ tsp
• Cayenne – ¼ tsp
• Salt – ¼ tsp

• Mussels – 2 lbs (about 25-30)
• White Wine/Vermouth – ½ Cup

• Panko Bread Crumbs – ½ Cup (optional)

Combine the first 10 ingredients in a food processor, pulsing until well combined.  Scrape down the sides of the bowl often.  Alternatively, combine everything in a large bowl and mash with a fork until combined.  Set aside.

Inspect the mussels to ensure they are all closed.  Discard any with broken shells or those open ones that don’t close immediately when tapped.

Arrange the mussels in a single layer in a large skillet, add the wine, cover and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.  Steam until all of the mussels are open, about 3 minutes.  Remove from the heat.

When cool enough to handle, discard the empty half shells and use a knife to loosen the meat from the other halves.  Trim the meat of any “beards” that you find.

Use a small spoon or knife to cover the meat and fill the shell with the reserved compound butter.  Arrange on a baking sheet and refrigerate, covered, up to 1 day, until ready to serve.

Move the rack to the top position and preheat the oven broiler/grill.

Cook the mussels until the butter is melted and bubbling, about 2 minutes.  Remove from the oven and, if desired, top with the panko breadcrumbs and return to the oven until golden, about 1 more minute.  Serve hot.

If you prefer, serve the mussels without the extra breadcrumb topping, but with lots of fresh crusty bread to soak up all that coral-coloured, flavour-filled butter.

Ith gu leòir! (Eat Plenty)

Notes:

• Store the leftover compound butter in the fridge.  It’s great on toast with a poached egg on top, or in a baked potato…even tossed on popcorn for a savoury treat.
• Panko is a Japanese style bread crumb available in most large grocery stores.

Packed in-shell in aromatic butter and topped with toasted bread crumbs.  Claire would have enjoyed these alongside a lightly dressed green salad, to balance the mussels’ buttery richness.