This academic year has been exam heavy and, in actual fact, by the official end of term the only person going to school was my husband.  Friday was the official finish – and this was supper.  I’d been to the supermarket to pick up milk (Seb drinks it by the pint – and I have no idea why we still buy milk in pints when we are supposed to be metric.  I’m disregarding the 2.272 litres labelling, as that’s just daft.) and they were reducing the seafood.

50p for this lot.

For all mussels are reckoned to be best eaten between November and April (aka when there’s an ‘r’ in the month), I can’t walk away from them at that price.  The only reason for the ‘season’ is that winter is when they are at their ‘meatiest’.  Personally, I tend to avoid mussels in the spring because that’s their traditional spawning time but I gather climate change is making it all more complicated.

Anyway, I swung my trolley round and picked up some cider and a crusty loaf.

Mine are rope grown in classified water – so I know they’ve not been affected by any toxic algae.  They come in net bags and should smell like the ‘seaside’.  Mine did.  When you get them home you need to cut open the bags and put them in a dish to collect any juices.  Don’t clean them until shortly before you plan on cooking them.  And, plan on cooking them quickly.  Mussels don’t have a long shelf life.  At 50p, my guess was mine needed using the day I bought them.

Don’t cover them with a lid – or put them in a bowl of water.  If you store them in freshwater they’ll die (being sea creatures) and if you use salted water they’ll use up all the oxygen .. and die.  I covered mine with a piece of damp kitchen towel and popped it all in the bottom of my fridge.

I have a number of issues with mussels.  The first being they are alive .. and I am of a squeamish disposition.  The second is the smelling ‘like the seaside’.  Intellectually, I know that’s a good thing but it’s not a smell I like when I open the fridge door.

My final issue is the cleaning of them.  I understand it’s better to buy them uncleaned because they have a longer shelf life if the ‘beard’ is still attached, but it’s a horrible job prepping mussels.  I do not consider them a ‘wonderfully quick and convenient thing to cook’.

My grandparents used to briefly soak their mussels in water and flour/oatmeal to ‘purge’ them.  In the UK you don’t need to do that any more as all commercially sold mussels have to be purified before they are sold.  So, that’s something in their favour.

My first job was to discard any with broken shells.  Even the slightest crack and it’s not worth risking the mussel being dead inside.  Chuck it away.

Next – and this is my top tip – delegate.  Always.  These are not my hands.

Scrape off any barnacles.  Give them a brush over.  Mussels grown on rope are not that bad.  If the shell is open, give it a sharp tap with your knife and it will slowly close shut.  If it doesn’t, chuck it away.

Now’s the time to pull off the ‘beard’ which are protein membranes the mussel uses to attach itself to a stable something rather than float off into the deep.  In my case, my mussels attached themselves to rope.  The other end is attached to them – which is why you pull this off shortly before cooking rather than prematurely traumatise it.  (Yes, I know I’m about to put it in a steaming pot, but this isn’t really for the benefit of the mussel.)

Meanwhile, I return to the clean end of the business.  Finely chop an onion.

My Grandad would never have done such a thing – but I add a chopped clove of garlic.  A little sugar.

Soften in rapeseed oil.  He used butter.

Again, I’m wilfully deviating.  A little kick of something is really tasty.  Cayenne pepper.

Stir.

I’m using one of my favourite ciders.  Go for something dry.

Add a tin of tomatoes and the cider.

This is something of a moral dilemma.  The rest of the cider could be considered ‘cook’s perks’ .. or you could motivate the person/perspons cleaning the darn things.

There they are – ready for the pot.  Give them a rinse under cold running water.

Give the sauce a little taste to check for seasoning.  A little pepper, maybe.  Don’t add any salt now as the juices the mussels release are naturally salty.  Get everything boiling.

Tip the mussels in the pot and cover with a lid.  Give everything an occasional shake – but the steam will cook the mussels on the top without too much worry.  Through the misty haze of my see-through lid I watched the mussels open.

There they are.

A little chopped parsley, as much for colour as anything else.  Curly was what my grandparents used and it makes me smile.

Give everything a stir and transfer to a big, warm serving dish.  If you spot any mussels which stubbornly remain closed, discard.  Don’t try prizing them open, it’s not worth it.

You’ll need some crusty bread to soak up all the juices and some bowls for the empty shells.  Use an empty shell as a pincer.  It’s all gloriously communal.  Eat.

Mussels in Tomatoes and Cider

Serves 4-7  (1lb of mussels is usually reckoned to be a portion, but I serve it with lots of crusty bread ..)

• 4lb/1.8kg mussels
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon of sugar
• 2 tablespoons of rapeseed oil
• A shake of cayenne pepper
• ¼ pint/150ml dry cider
• 400g/14oz tin of tomatoes, chopped
• Fresh parsley
• Black pepper
• Lots of crusty bread to serve

Prepare the fresh mussels.  Discard any with cracked shells or any which do not shut when tapped with the back of a knife.  Scrape off any barnacles and pull of the ‘beards’.  Rinse under cold water.

Heat the rapeseed oil in a large pan and soften the onion, garlic and sugar.   Cook until the onion is soft and beginning to take on a little colour.  Add the cayenne pepper and stir.

Add the tomatoes, cider and a little black pepper.  Bring to a boil.

Add the mussels.  Cover with a lid and cook, shaking the pan occasionally.  3-5 minutes later the mussel shells will have opened.

Sprinkle with parsley.  Stir.  Transfer to a large, warmed serving dish and discard any mussels which remain shut.

Eat.

Print.

 

I was given a marrow.  I’ve come to the conclusion I must be unusual among my peers because I was very pleased to have it.  Apparently that’s not the general emotion when confronted with a marrow …?  Also, I never have the slightest difficulty getting through a courgette glut either.

 

Shall we do the debate on when is a marrow a marrow?  Does it have to have stripes and seeds which are hard to the bite?  Or is it just the courgette you didn’t spot until it had become a marrow????

Personally, I am content to think of it as supper and it’s the perfect ‘carrier’ for lots of good things ..

I live in a town which is dubbed ‘little Italy’ because we have the largest concentration of Italian families in the UK.  The 1950s saw a sudden influx of Italian immigrants, primarily from Sicily and villages in Campania, who came to work for the London Brick Company.  The Italian connection means it’s as easy for me to get pancetta as it is bacon.  I’m feeling the Italian vibe …

There’s no need to add any oil to the frying pan.  Low heat and wait for the pancetta’s own fat to melt.

Brush the mushrooms of any dirt, trim and chop them.  When the fat is oozing out from the pancetta, add them to the pan.

Cook over a medium/low heat until the mushrooms have softened and the water released from them has cooked away.

Place them in a bowl.  Add the chopped parsley and thyme, the fresh breadcrumbs and lots of freshly ground black pepper.  Pancetta is salty so you are unlikely to need to add any additional salt, but there’s no reason not to give the mix a taste.

And that’s the filling done.

Pre-heat your oven to 190ºC/375ºF/Gas Mark 5.

Peel your marrow.  (I must remember to get myself a new peeler, mine is feeling blunt.)

Then cut into slices.  Being as how this was a 2kg plus beast of a marrow I went for 2″ slices.  When confronted with a smaller marrow I cut 1½ slices and would serve two rings per person.

Misusing my fish filleting knife, I remove the seeds core.

The seeds I throw away.  The end of the marrow you can chop up and add to your filling mixture or sauté in a little olive oil and freeze to add to soups and the like.

Butter a shallow dish and arrange your marrow rings in a single layer.  Season with salt and pepper.

Then fill the hollowed out spaces with your pancetta and mushroom filling.  Pack it down.  Drizzle with olive oil.

Tightly cover the baking dish with foil so that the marrow will steam as well as bake.  Place in the oven (Aga:  bottom set of runners in the Roasting Oven) until the marrow is tender to the point of a knife.  Set the timer for 45 minutes.

Set to work on the spicy tomato sauce.

I find red onions are less prone to making me weep so sometimes dispense with my lovely pink onion goggles.  Otherwise cutting the onion is the same.  Leaving the root intact, cut off the top of the onion and then in half.  Peel back the outer layer and make narrow vertical cuts.  Put the flat of your hand on the top of the onion, nice and out of the way, and cut through towards the root but not through it.  This sauce isn’t whizzed to smoothness so it’s worth remembering the size of onion you cut is the size you are going to eat.  Cut down and, miraculously, you are producing neat cubes.

Soften in 1 tablespoon of olive oil.  Gently.  It needs to be soft and translucent and will take about 5 minutes.

Add the garlic. I grate mine with a fine microplane grater as I find it means I don’t have any discernible ‘blobs’ of garlic in my sauce. Plus I no longer own a garlic crusher because I hated washing it up!  Have your tomatoes ready.  Garlic burns quickly and burnt garlic tastes revolting.  So, thirty seconds, no more …

Add the tinned tomatoes, tomato puree, caster sugar and cayenne pepper.  England doesn’t have a great climate for the growing of tomatoes so you get a better result using good quality tinned tomatoes imported from Italy, but the caster sugar is added to give a little sweetness that sun-ripened straight off the vine would have naturally if picked in Campania.  So far, this is a fairly standard sugo al pomodoro …

Only I like a hit of chilli – and that makes it arrabbiata.  Chilli flakes work fine.  If you’re using fresh, the ‘heat’ is in the pith that holds the seeds inside.  If you roll your chilli on your work surface you will dislodge the seeds, which is aesthetically better.  More vigorous rolling will dislodge the pith, which lessens the fire.

Cut off the stalk end and turn it up so the seeds and pith can fall out.  This method of de-seeding minimises the contact your hands have with the chilli fire and makes any inadvertent touching of your eyes less tortuous.  Cut down the length of the chilli and then across into cubes.

Or just chop.  I don’t worry about the seeds as I like it spicy and I added a second chilli as a cautious nibble told me these were quite mild.  Add to the tomato sauce and simmer for half an hour until it’s exactly the consistency you want to eat it at.  When it’s ready it can be left to cool and re-heated before serving.  I pop mine in the warming oven and forget about it until supper.

If your marrow doesn’t give beneath the point of a knife it’s not ready.  Pop the foil back over and put into the oven again.  My big marrow took an hour.

Serve with the spicy tomato sauce.

Italians don’t seem to feel any meal is complete without bread.  I feel the same about candlelight and a generous glass of red wine ..!  Buon appetito.

Pancetta and Mushroom Stuffed Marrow with Spicy Tomato Sauce – Serves 6

For the Pancetta and Mushroom Stuffed Marrow:

• 6 4-5cm/1½-2″ slices of marrow
• Olive oil
• 300g pancetta
• 600g chestnut mushrooms
• 3 tablespoons of chopped parsley
• 3 tablespoons of chopped thyme
• Salt and pepper
• 100g/4oz fresh white breadcrumbs

Preheat the oven to 190ºC/375ºF/Gas Mark 5.

Remove the seeds from the marrow rings.  Butter a dish which will hold all six and arrange them in a single layer.  Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

If using a whole piece of pancetta, cut into cubes.  Place the cubed pancetta into a dry pan and heat to release the fat.

Brush the mushrooms free of dirt, trim and chop.  Add to the pancetta and lightly fry for about 5 minutes. Transfer to a bowl.

Add the chopped parsley and thyme, freshly ground black pepper and the breadcrumbs.  Stir.

Fill the marrow cavities with the pancetta and mushroom mixture.  Drizzle with olive oil.

Cover the dish with foil so the marrow will steam as well as bake.  Cook until the marrow is tender to the point of a knife.  Between ¾-1 hour.

Serve with the tomato sauce.

For the Spicy Tomato Sauce – Serves 6

• olive oil
• 1 large red onion or two small, chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed/grated
• freshly ground black pepper
• 3x400g tins of good quality Italian chopped tomatoes
• 1½ tablespoon of tomato puree
• 1½ teaspoon of caster sugar
• ½ teaspoon of cayenne pepper

Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a saucepan and fry the red onion over a medium heat until it is soft and translucent.  This will take about 5 minutes.

Add the garlic and cook for a few seconds before adding the tomatoes, tomato puree, sugar and cayenne pepper.  Simmer for 30 minutes until it has reduced and thickened.

Serve with the marrow.  (Any extra can be frozen and makes a great pasta sauce.)

Eat.

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