Steamed mussels

I’ve noticed, as I am sure you have as well, this has become habitual that I write on my blog rather consistently for weeks at a time, then I am overcome by this dry spell of words, this insurmountable brick wall, whereby weeks, even months, pass and NoodlesKnows remains untouched. I always ask my audience for forgiveness for my lack of blogging presence (as I am implying here) and then move on to write my posting. So, yes, please note that while I do have ambitions and make concerted efforts to maintain the integrity of my blog, I can never promise a regularity of frequent postings. We try to plan our lives, but our lives end up planning us, and often, we’re overbooked.

Now that I’ve made my peace, let’s move on to today’s subject, shall we?

Last Saturday, my NFL home team, the Baltimore Ravens, played an unrivaled match against the New England Patriots to bring home the AFC North Championship title. In honor of Baltimore’s most beloved Raven, Ray Lewis, I made mussels. Not because Ray Lewis likes mussels (I have no idea if he likes them or not), but because he is one muscular man. Well, I thought it was a fun play-on-words.

I bought the mussels de-bearded, which saves a great deal of time and trouble. If you cannot find de-bearded mussels, do not fret. It’s simple to remove what culinary wizards like to call the bi-valve’s “beard.” The beard is a coarse, rather fuzzy-looking, yarn-like appendage the mussel uses to attach itself to stationary objects in the water. You can easily pull it out with your fingers. Once you remove all the beards from the mussels, all you need do is rinse the mussels under running water and gently tap any shells you see open to ensure that they close. If the mussel shell does not close, throw that mussel out. It is dead and cannot be eaten.

After I rinsed my mussels and tested the vitality of each one, I sat them aside as I prepared the pot in which they were to cook. I sauteed onions, garlic, and red bell pepper in olive oil until the vegetables were translucent, adding salt and pepper to taste. Then, I tossed in the mussels and poured over about one and a half cups of dry Sherry. I closed the lid and let the mussels steam for about five to seven minutes. Once all the shells blossomed open, a showering of freshly chopped parsley and the juice of one whole lemon sprinkled on top were all I needed to finish off my seafood feast.

I served the mussels, swimming in their indulgent broth, over thin spaghetti with warm bread and a crisp green salad on the side. Not your typical football fare, but, nevertheless, appropriate for the occasion.