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10/26/1999 Archived Entry: "Sensational Seafood and the Crumbs to Top It"

I am so jaded about food – after all, next month it will be 30 years that I have been a professional food writer – that I rarely get excited about it anymore. I mean really thrilled. But last weekend, all alone in the kitchen, I steamed open some Taylor Bay scallops, still in their shells, popped one in my mouth, and yelled (not just thought), “Oh my God.”

I had never, ever tasted anything like it, and, of course, I have eaten more than my share of scallops over the years. They were a bit briny, and had that fresh smell and taste of the ocean that restores, not the one that says “fishy.” It was sweet. I am tempted to say it was as sweet as candy, but that would be too sweet. It was … let’s say as sweet as ripe fruit. It gave real meaning to the expression “fruit of the sea” as in frutti di mare in Italian, and fruit di mer, in French.

The scallops were from Taylor Bay, Nantucket, and they arrived via Federal Express within 24 hours from being taken from the water. They come wrapped, still alive, 12 to a package, in a plastic sleeve with air holes. They are gorgeous, the shells varying in color from rosy pink, through shades of brown, with a few very dark, nearly black. All I did was rinse them off under cold water, then arrange them in one layer in a deep, covered skillet. I put the skillet over high heat, and as soon as some steam collected under the cover – about 3 minutes on my slow stove – I turned the heat off and let the scallops sit in the hot pan for another 2 or 3 minutes. The shells open to reveal the scallop meat – the neat round, white cylinder you are familiar with – surrounded by the rest of the scallop. These are parts one usually doesn’t see or eat, but every part of these tiny scallops is not only edible, but delicious.

My friends (they finally arrived) and I felt there was no need to add anything – not a sauce, not a drop of lemon juice, nothing. We considered dipping them into butter, but the fat would have masked the fresh, sweet flavor. We just thought they were wonderfully sensual eaten off the shell, and a great luxury. They cost $15 a dozen, if you buy only one dozen.

These live Taylor Bay scallops in their shell, along with sensational, huge, ocean scallops out of their shell -- so-called “diver’s” scallops – plump mussels, and the freshest Manila clams I’ve ever tasted, came from a company called Farm-2-Market, which direct mails seafood from the beds it is raised in – or fish right from the boats that catch them – to consumers. Go to the company’s web-site – www.farm-2-market.com – to find out more.

As I said, the Taylor Bay scallops needed absolutely no embellishment, but I couldn’t resist fussing ever-so-slightly with the rest of my booty. I love Manila clams because, unlike our local Little Necks and Cherrystones, they are small enough to serve in their shells in a bowl with pasta, which is the way Neapolitans serve their tiny clams, vongole veraci. But, honestly, Manilas don’t ever have the flavor of our bigger clams. Still, steamed open with garlic, a bit of hot pepper, parsley, great olive oil, and just – literally – a half of a small plum tomato, these were as good as Manila’s get, and made a better clam sauce than I have had in a very long time.

The mussels, which I scrubbed even though they didn’t need to be, I steamed open with just the water clinging to their shells. That takes two to three minutes over a high flame. I used them in two ways: I made a very lightly cooked tomato base with the last of the season’s plum tomatoes from the farmer’s market, then added cooked white beans and simmered them in the sauce a few minutes. (I would usually use cannellini, but I had some marrow beans in the pantry – see The Maven’s Diary, May 18th.). Finally, I added the mussel liquid, and when that was heated through with the tomato base and beans, I added the mussel meats and heated them through without bringing the dish to the simmer again. To tell the truth, I like this dish better when made with cherry tomatoes, as I have outlined in Naples At Table. But it was pretty damn good with plum tomatoes.

The rest of the mussels I baked, as you would clams, oreganata style. It’s another recipe you can find in Naples At Table. It is nothing more than steamed mussels put under the broiler, protected by deliciously oily seasoned breadcrumbs. Because I had just cleaned out my pantry and thrown out my old stash of breadcrumbs, I had to make some. Instead of using old, dry bread, which I didn’t have, I used a mortar and pestle to crush whole-wheat freselle -- dried, toasted bread rings that keep well for months and that I now always keep on hand. A blender would have worked, but I enjoyed the action of grinding with a mortar and pestle– while I was watching something mindless on the kitchen TV. It was calming. (Actually, later in the week, more in a hurry, I tried using the food processor and I was surprised it couldn’t make crumbs as fine as I wanted.

Here’s how I seasoned the crumbs:

Oreganata Crumbs
for Baked Clams or Mussels

1/2 cup fine, dry breadcrumbs
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 heaping tablespoon finely minced garlic

In a small bowl, mix all the ingredients together well. Moisten with some of the liquid – 2 to 3 tablespoons, depending on the dryness of the crumbs -- that results from steaming open the mussels.

Using a teaspoon as a tool, cover each clam or mussel on the half shell completely with breadcrumbs. Place filled shells on a baking sheet or broiler pan..Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Just before serving, place the mussels under the broiler, about 4 inches from the heat, and cook until the crumbs are well browned.

Serve immediately.

Serving variations: The same mixture is delicious, without the shellfish liquid, for topping baked tomatoes or roasted peppers, substituting, if desired, a tablespoon of chopped parsley or basil for the oregano. Heat the crumbs on the vegetable for at least 10 minutes in a 350-degree oven.

The crumbs are also a treat sprinkled over spaghetti or any shape of macaroni, dressed with only olive oil and a couple of spoons of pasta cooking water, or dressed with a simple tomato sauce. Before dressing the pasta with them, saute the crumbs in a small skillet for a minute or two – to crisp them. Use grated Parmigiano or pecorino cheese, too, if desired.