Welcome to The Haul
Good morning, and hello. It's the day after NYC got a snow pummeling and I'm in a certain mood about it. I left the house twice in the storm. First, for a morning hot yoga class, and second, for the surplus grocer.
In the final resting pose of yoga, when the teacher tells you to shut out intrusive thoughts, I often think about things to cook. It's not quite cheating, as my mind isn't busy with anxieties or to-do lists or enemies I'd like to smite. It's more like a freeform creative session, my mind spelunking through the contents of our fridge, freezer and pantry, pairing ingredients, considering options. No wrong ideas in a brainstorm: "Could we pair the whole belly clams with butternut squash? Are hearts of palm a breakfast food?"
Yesterday was a particularly lovely hot yoga session—the studio windows overlook Lexington Avenue, and there's something deeply rewarding about observing snowbound hubbub from a safe and steamy interior. And in that top-tier headspace, I came up with a Grand Idea for dinner: moules-frites.
It's fun to say, innit? I certainly said it a lot yesterday, like a smug sophomore back from semester abroad. "Moooool freet, is how they say it in Belgium, Abby. Do you know what it means? Hey, where are you going?"
But really, mussels and french fries for a snowstorm dinner - doesn't that feel right? Surely some would opt for a roast chicken or lentil stew or some such, but that feels limited in scope. Let's get continental, people.
In our freezer, we've been sitting on a flash-frozen pound of "Oyster Bay" mussels from the surplus grocer. A little digging reveals that, even though the seller is nominally on Long Island, Oyster Bay has struggled to produce shellfish in recent years; our Pricefighter Seafood brand mussels were actually imported from an aquaculture operation in Chile.
In my soft-boiled yoga brain, I decided to try a chorizo preparation for the mussel broth, partly because I wanted to get out of the classic onion/garlic/white wine combo I'm used to, and partly because we have a big bag of chorizo links in the freezer (yes from the surplus grocer—it's kind of implied, no?)
After class, found a Mark Bittman recipe from NYTimes cooking that looked straightforward and tasty. I don't love the man but his recipes tend to stand up.
BUT oh no, we didn't have any vegetable oil to make frites! Which gave me an admittedly flimsy excuse to visit the surplus grocer in a blizzard. And if I happened to find a few bonus treats while there? Sue moi! (that means "me," I learned it in semester abroad.)
ANYway I trundled home with a big bottle of Admiration brand vegetable oil, as well as: 6 cans of Canada Dry seltzer, lemon-lime and triple berry varieties; 1 bag of shredded Horizon Organic mozzarella to replace the last one which had a kiss of mold; 1 can of black olives; 2 small cans of La Colombe cold brew; and a pink candle. I'd call this an "extremely modest" haul.
Dinner was grand, by the way. The mussels were admittedly not so tender, but it's unclear whether they're a victim of being very old (the brand's trademark expired last year) or a bit of overcooking. Otherwise, the meal was spot-on: sautéed chorizo and onions had an alluring salty sweetness, toasted a bit of crusty bread for the broth dunk, and the twice-fried frites from a dubious source were possibly the best I've ever made.
Welcome to The Haul, y'all! (Feedback: surplusgrocer@gmail.com)
Featured Items
It is unclear how old these farmed Chilean mussels really were.
Marca El Rey (Mark of the King) chorizo in bunches, 3-lb bag. Typically sold at Safeway and Albertsons. Appears to be an Armour imprint.
Last night's dinner required two (2) links. They're all attached by string so I cut off an appropriate amount based on my needs. Pictured still frozen.
Really dig the Soviet propaganda/Victory Garden style font of this company's logo. It appears that Admiration oil is typically sold in very large jugs for restaurant use. Also, the product description is super appetizing:
