Erica De Mane

Still Life with Mussels, by Jack Knox.

Recipe below: Baked Mussels with Almonds, Lemon, and Summer Savory

So many of us are now cooking every day and every night, and we all can hit burnout. I have. But usually I recover quickly. For those of you who don’t rebound quite so fast, I’m here to help. I can give you fresh ways to look at old dishes, ideas for Italianizing spring and summer produce, and a few unusual culinary thoughts you might appreciate, ones lurking just beneath the surface of this miserable shutdown. No one wants to put lifeless food on the table, especially now. Dinner, for many of us, has become the highlight of our diminished day. I have the advantage of never getting bored with cooking. Frustrated, angry, yes, burnt out, yes, but my curiosity has so far stayed intact, and I’m grateful. I think being an improvisational cook helps. I’m not constrained by set-in-stone recipes, as my grandmother was. I almost never make a dish the same way twice. So if you’re looking to expand your culinary horizons, please feel free to write and ask me just about anything. Anything cooking related, that is.

When I recently put a photo of baked mussels up on Instagram, many Italian-leaning cooks said they’d never heard of them. I said they’re essentially baked clams but made with mussels. Everyone knew about baked clams and how to prepare them. But mussels are great the same way, and cheaper. If you score some fine ones, give this a try.

To make baked mussels you’ll want to steam them open in some vino, press a crumbly topping into the half shells, and run them under the broiler. The whole thing comes together in about 15 minutes. I’ve never met a cat that didn’t love them. For the crumbly topping, this time I ground up a handful of taralli instead of using breadcrumbs (you can, of course, use breadcrumbs). The texture of the crumbs is important. You don’t want them too finely ground or too wet. You know when you get mushy baked clams at a crappy red sauce joint? That’s what you need to avoid. I wanted to add fresh marjoram to the crumbs, but the marjoram I’ve planted is not looking very lively at the moment, so I chose summer savory instead. It’s kind of strong, but just a few sprigs worked out nicely. I also ground up a handful of almonds. You need, I feel, some kind of acid for this dish to sparkle, so dry vermouth and lemon zest and juice played their parts.  The crispy, oily, herby mussels were excellent with a glass of Primitivo rosato from Puglia.

This crumbly topping also works wonderfully on baked shrimp (just sprinkle it on raw shrimp and stick them in a really hot oven until tender and golden).

And, remember, if you have any Italian cooking-related questions, drop me a line.

Baked Mussels with Almonds, Lemon, and Summer Savory

(Serves 4 as an antipasto)

2 dozen mussels, well cleaned
½ cup dry vermouth
A handful of ground up taralli or 1 cup homemade breadcrumbs, not too finely ground
½ cup fresh almonds, ground
The juice and zest from 1 small lemon
1 small garlic clove, minced
Black pepper
2 tablespoons grated grana Padano cheese
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus a little more for drizzling
2 big sprigs summer savory or thyme, the leaves chopped
A palmful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, chopped
Salt

Put the mussels in a large pot, pour on the vermouth, and set the flame to high. Cook, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the mussels open. Pull out the mussels into a bowl, and then pour their cooking liquid through a strainer into a small bowl. Taste the broth. If your mussels were in good shape, it should be sweet and saline.

Put all the rest of the ingredients, except the salt, into a bowl ,and mix everything well. Pour in about a tablespoon of the mussel cooking liquid, stirring it in. Taste for seasoning, adding salt, if needed (the cooking liquid may provide enough, but that depends on how salty your mussels are).

Pull off the top shell from each of the mussels. Press a little of the crumb mix against each half mussel, and lay them out, crumb side up, on a broiler pan. Drizzle with a little fresh olive oil, and run them under the broiler, about 4 inches from the heat, just until they start to turn golden. Eat them hot.