Flunking Mussels 101
This was the fantasy. Mussels fresh from our beach, into the pot just moments after harvest. But alas, it was not to be. After only four days of living with us the mussel tumbler escaped from its constraints of rebar, concrete, and zip ties, only to be cast adrift who knows where.
The mussels themselves will presumably be fine, until they grow too big for their little home. Me, I would have harvested them bit by bit, allowing the last of them to grow in peace. But now that 250 of them are trapped in a relatively small cage, who knows how they’ll cope. Perhaps a marauding starfish will find its way into the tumbler and thin out their ranks. Perhaps the tumbler will wash ashore on someone’s beach who will know what to do with them. Perhaps they’ll be jostled by passing submarines until they give up the ghost.
All I know is: they won’t be gracing our table, and there’s a naked pile of rebar and concrete to deal with. At least the oysters are hanging in there. The life of a farmer.French Letters Visits America
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