I had a handful of things I thought would be good to write about this week.
At first, I thought I’d write about the saga of finding mussels for this week’s recipe. I went to three fish mongers to track them down. The first two were in Ben and my new neighborhood. They didn’t have whole mussels in stock, just mussels on the half shell, which didn’t work for this recipe. So we found another fish market where, just a few days before, we’d stopped in for some delicious fried seafood and french fries. They handed me a two pound bag of mussels, which I took home and placed in my fridge.
But when I took them out to clean and check them, I realized they smelled bad. They were slimy. And more than half of them were already opened, which meant they were dead, and not suitable for cooking unless I wanted to give Ben and myself a wicked case of food poisoning. So in the end, I wound up biking up to our old neighborhood and visiting Mermaid Garden, one of my favorite fish markets in Brooklyn, and picking up the mussels that you’ll see photographed below.
So I was going to write about food deserts, and moving from one neighborhood to another and realizing that the markets are not great, and how that relates to the socioeconomic status of the people in that neighborhood. But I didn’t have enough time to research and develop that essay in way that was intelligent and informed and didn’t come across as me, a white lady, talking to my mostly-white audience about access to food in a half-assed way. So I shelved that until I could actually bring it to you in an educated, nuanced way.
The reason I didn’t have time to do that is because work got really, really, insanely hard this week, for myriad reasons. Both my 9-5 and my freelance work blew up in a way that, by the end of the week, I was crying on Ben’s shoulder about what a fucking loser I was. Because I feel like a loser sometimes in my career. I look around and see the people I admire thriving, and making cool Instagram reels, and being approached for amazing jobs. And I don’t feel like that’s happened to me in the same way, no matter how hard I’ve worked at it. I’ve tried so hard to wrestle my self-worth away from my job, and here I was, failing at that.
“I sometimes feel like I’ve been treading water since I got laid off in 2017,” I texted my friends. “It’s insane to me that I haven’t been able to get a foothold in a way that makes me feel secure.” It’s especially hard when I know that so many people look at my career as a success. Why can’t I see it in the same way? (I did get my period the next day, which may explain the crying, but the feeling of loserness still lingers.)
So I was going to write about that. But the thing is, I haven’t processed it. I am still feeling like an untalented loser who can’t write about anything, which is why I haven’t been able to pin down a single thought for an essay to accompany this delicious mussels recipe.
Maybe that’s what I like about this Sunday Sauce project so much, then. Cooking has always been a way for me to turn my brain off. I find something calming about the regimen of chopping onions, grating garlic, and tasting for seasoning. I’m usually drinking a glass of wine, or listening to a podcast. Sure, some days I’m sweating my ass off in a humid kitchen, or cursing over the fact that I forgot to buy an ingredient and I’m only realizing it when I need said ingredient. But on the whole, it’s a moment of peace where I can follow some instructions and wind up with something belly-filling in the end.
It’s interesting to me, then, that in my moments of acute stress, cooking is the thing that tends to fall by the wayside. I stress-order Chinese food or run to my local market for a frozen pizza. But this newsletter keeps me accountable, and ensures I’m building that downtime into my days and weeks. It’s like my grandmother is reminding me to take time for myself. So I head to my kitchen, I turn my brain off, and in a few hours, I can heap spoonfuls of love onto my plate and Ben’s. Even if I’m failing at everything, I know I can do that. And on week’s like this, it’s the only thing I can hang onto.
Here’s what’s cooking
Mussels in White Wine
INGREDIENTS
2 lbs mussels
2 Tbsp olive oil, plus more for topping
6 cloves garlic, crushed
1 medium onion, diced
1 lemon, sliced
1 1/2 cups white wine
1/2 cup water
Parsley, chopped, for topping (optional)
INSTRUCTIONS
Check your mussels. Separate the closed mussels from the ones that are open or cracked. If mussels are open, gently tap them. If they close, they’re still alive and can be used. If they remain open, they’re dead and should be tossed. Some mussels may also still have their beards. If so, gently pull it toward the hinge of the mussel shell to remove.
Cover your closed mussels in water and let soak for 20 minutes to an hour. Remove from water with a slotted spoon and give one more rinse with water before draining again.
In a heavy-bottom pot or Dutch oven, heat the oil until shimmering. Add the garlic, onions, and lemons. Sweat out the onions until they’re wilted slightly and tender, but not browned—about 5 minutes.
Add in mussels, and pour in your wine and water. Cover the pot and cook until all of your mussels have opened—about 10 minutes.
Remove from stove, and top with parsley and a drizzle of olive oil. Serve with crusty sourdough bread.
Have this, it will make you feel better
In lieu of a typical trio this week, I’m highlighting some of my favorite places to buy yummy things around Brooklyn.
Aside from Mermaid Garden, Fish Tales in Cobble Hill is an amazing fish market. The people there are so knowledgeable and friendly. If I’m in the neighborhood, I always stop by.
Winner in Park Slope has the best sourdough on the planet. Full stop. Here’s the catch—they only make one batch a day, and it’s usually sold out before noon. Expect to wait in line, but trust me, it’s worth it.
D. Coluccio & Sons is an amazing Italian market in Bensonhurst/Midwood. It’s kinda in the middle of nowhere, but absolutely worth the trip. That’s where I buy the seasoning for my sarda, and we’ll be going back for olive oil. It’s also where I bought a ball of fresh mozzarella that was so good, I ate the whole thing in just 24 hours.
Ben introduced me to Sunrise Mart in Industry City, Brooklyn. We go there together when we need Japanese ingredients, or imported Japanese snacks, Kewpie mayo, or the best soy sauce you’ve ever had in your life. They also have a small beauty section with some of the most amazing face masks I’ve ever seen.
Am I literally failing on all fronts?
Just wanted to say I'm right there with you in simultaneously having my brain melted by the insanity of my 9-5 while also feeling like my career has been stagnate for years. I cried in the bathroom twice on Friday because 150+ people's wages aren't going to be paid on time because of the heartless uselessness of my department, and I'm the only one who cares. Like you've, I've found immersing myself in cooking and other activities that require my full attention the closest thing to a balm I've got.
Hoping things smooth out for you soon x