French Dip - Mussels "Provencale" Style

My entire food life revolves around sauce. Dry rubs - forget it. A simple grilled piece of fish or steak? Not interested. That rich chocolate torte you made and are putting in front of me...It better have some raspberry coulis next to it or I may just get nasty.

I'm saucy and not afraid to say it.

I am not sure how this evolved. My dad and I virtually come to blows when we discuss barbeque sauce and its place on the table so it's clearly not genetic (as you can probably tell, I think it belongs, he thinks it should be banished).

On my last night in San Diego before moving up to the Bay Area, we walked over to a wonderfully casual French bistro called Bleu Boheme in Kensington. Earlier that day I had crashed the U-haul moving truck into a neighbor's car which ended up costing $2400. A few really nice dinners in Aix-en-Provence. Add to that a dead battery and an hour on the phone with a less than helpful customer service rep hadn't helped my mood. I was miffed. OK, pissed off actually (excuse my French). Working all day, my muscles were tired from lugging boxes and lifting furniture. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and economically.

Entering the restaurant brought me right back to a trip in the south of France to Provence. Warm mineral walls and light blue banquettes. The smell of lavender herbs you find in the country outside Arles. A whiff of herbal anise scented Pernod from a pastis in Nice. The troubled and lovely Edith Piaf crooning "La vie en rose" in the background. I needed liquid therapy.

I dove headfirst into a whirlpool bath glass of champagne to get my bearings. Sipping measuredly, I started to calm down a bit. Just enough to open the menu and look at the 6 choices of mussels they were serving that night. Because all of that flavor isn't in the gentle tasting bi-valve molluscs of the Mediterranean.

It was time for something with real dipping potential to satisfy my hunger and saucy worldview.

Herbs. Pernod. White Wine. Mussels steamed to perfection in this Provencale goodness. And a basket of warm, crusty French bread to soak it all up.

I made my own version of the Blue Boheme dish from that evening and took some inspiration from the fabulously talented Maria Helm Sinskey's "The Vineyard Kitchen" to come up with this version adding a generous amount of herbs, some Pernod, and my secret weapon for adding flavor to sauces - anchovies.

This came out very well and is fairly easy to make. With all that delectable sauce I could eat a truckload of these...Damned U-Haul.

Recipe for Mussels Provencale
Serves 2

1 lb black mussels (12-15 per person)
3 T olive oil
1 small shallot, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 anchovy, minced
2 tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
4 sprigs fresh thyme
6 large basil leaves, julienned
1 pinch salt
1 C white wine
1 t Pernod liqueur*
1 T fresh Italian parsley, chopped

Scrub the mussels and debeard them. Keep them cool or refrigerated until ready to cook. In a large saucepan or Dutch oven, head the olive oil over a medium high flame. Add the shallots and cook for 3 to 4 minutes until soft. Add the garlic and cook for one more minute. Add the anchovy and cook for 1 minute. Add the tomatoes and cook for about 2 minutes until they begin to break down. Add the thyme sprigs, half of the basil, salt and wine. Bring to a boil. Add the pernod and place the mussels in the pan. Cover and cook over medium high heat for 6-7 minutes, shaking the pan 2-3 times. Take off the lid and discard any unopened mussels. Using a sloted spoon place the mussels into ceramic bowls. Remove the thyme sprigs and ladle the sauce over the mussels. Garnish with remaining fresh basil and parsley. Serve with french bread toast and white wine.

*Pernod is French made liquor that has a black licorice taste. You can substitute 3 T of chopped fennel and saute with the shallots for a similar and very tasty effect.

Recipe for Garlic & Herb French Toast
1 artisan baguette, sliced lengthwise in half
1/2 stick butter, melted
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 T fresh Italian parsley, chopped
salt
cracked black pepper

Pre-heat an oven to 325 degrees. Brush each side of the sliced bread with melted butter. Spread minced garlic and parsley over bread and season lightly with salt and pepper. Place the bread halves back together and wrap tightly in aluminum foil. Bake for 15 minutes. Slice into 2 or 3 inch portions and serve.

Sweetly Savoring Brussels

I truly adore chocolate. And every time I taste it I am brought right back to one of the best places I have indulged myself. Enveloped in the old world Belgian capital of Brussels. A city of contrast and history that diplomatically negotiates with itself over competing Dutch and French roots. Some say Brussels is the smaller cousin to Paris. Sort of its “mini-me” to the French.

Brussels (Bruxelles in French) is home to the European Union, the remarkable La Grande-Place (a UNESCO World Heritage site), and the no less intriguing and very amusing Manneken Pis...one of the world's earliest well known "small men". He pre-dated another famous smaller French gentleman by about 600 years (Napoleon). Small, but aggressive, Napoleon was a bold contender in a small package. He was permantently exiled after his loss at the Battle of Waterloo in Belgium.

Brussels is an elegant, reserved and understated younger sister to Paris. No less welcoming than the Gaulic capital, she is coy about her petite figure, regardless of her oversized affect on the world.

Belgium is known, and has been over centuries, for chocolate. While major strides have been made in the United States to better appreciate and understand this gourmet extragavance, it is the adherence of old world manufacturing techniques, made in small batches, that delivers such gastronomic delight.

Delicate. Complex. Warm. And very lively. Truly an adult taste. I might be describing a confection from Leonidas. Or a singularly monumental taste of Neuhaus. Or perhaps the quirky Belgian love of french fries and mayonaisse.

But I am not. I am describing Brussels Sprouts.

Cultivated in what is now Belgium since the 13th century, this vegetable is grown in cooler climates from autumn to spring. If you can buy them on the stock they will stay fresh for several days. Cooking the sprouts too long brings upon a bitter taste. A bit like the "Napoleon of Cabbage" (they hail from the same family roots), brussels sprouts are loaded with excellent sources of vitamin A, C and dietary fiber. An alter ego that is laughably small, yet a culinary force that must be paid attention to. Cooked correctly they are delicious and there is no need to exile them from your kitchen.

The word "vegetable" comes from the old French root “vegetābilis” and latin stem “vegetare” which means “to enliven”. A previous trip to Belgium gave us the opportunity to stay at the boutique Brussels Welcome Hotel. Upon entry of the modest exterior the place immediately transformed us from old to new, and back, with a lively display of rooms set in exotic themes from around the world. Strolling through the ancient and reserved capital, a player by design or circumstance in many of the empires over the last 10 centuries, I thought of the the clever English poet Andrew Marvel who authored “To his Coy Mistress” and wrote:

“Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide…
…My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.”

My vegetative soul has shown me that brussels sprouts, unlike gourmet chocolate, do not take themselves seriously. They’ve been around much too long to worry about their place in the world. Reserved and understated. Yet bold and enlivening when they need to be. A pleasantly coy alternative with a deceptively delicious story to tell.

Recipe for Brussels Sprouts
with Dijon Mustard Thyme Butter

Serves 4

Ingredients

1 lb brussels sprouts, halved with outer leaves removed

1/4 lb (one stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 T Dijon mustard

1 shallot finely chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1 T fresh thyme leaves, chopped

salt and pepper

Method

Bring a 3 quart sauce pan of water to a boil. When boiling, add salt and then brussels sprouts. Cook for 7 to 8 minutes at a low boil.

While the brussels sprouts are cooking, make the butter by combining all the ingredients in a small bowl.

Drain the brussels sprouts and then add back into the warm saucepan. Add the mustard thyme butter, coating the sprouts well. Season with salt and cracked black pepper and serve.

This recipe was adopted from Deborah Madison's "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone".