Russell's Mussels from Brussels

I can't believe I've lived 36 years without typing that phrase: Russell's Mussels from Brussels. There are, as far as I know, two words that rhyme with Russell, and that's the first time I've ever used them together. But I guess I haven't had an excuse; as Carly was quick to point out, I'd never really had mussels before. To me, this is what the word meant:

(I look just like that, by the way.) 

But life is too short to spend without a meal of mussels, at least once. (Right?) Besides, if they were gross, I could easily make a meal of fries and mayo alone. But an open minds create new opportunities for positive experiences, and this culinary adventure didn't disappoint.

Not only were the four pounds of mussels we ordered not gross they were downright delicious. I may have overpowered one of them with lemons (to Carly's chagrin), but I'm a fan of the citrus. And as I learned from Gilligan's Island (Jesus, Russ, you're old), it helps stave off scurvy. An overlooked hazard of Manhattan living.

One thing about eating an entire meal of shellfish is that I feel a bit barbaric. No pasta to dress it up. Just a bunch of naked sea creatures dredged up from the ocean floor. It tasted amazing, to be sure, but part of me still felt like Madison in Splash:

But let's get back to the fries for a moment. A friend told me in 1999 that his first guideline to a fulfilling life is: a potato a day keeps the good times rolling. Weird that that was at the top of his list, right? Hard to argue, though. It wouldn't have been the complete culinary adventure, but I could easily have eaten BXL's fries all night. As it were, I finished my "dipping sauce," the sweet mayoriffic complement to the fries, and then used some of Carly's. I felt so European.

Glad I saved myself for dessert this time 'round. Melted chocolate, nuts, and berries is a heckuva way to cap a lovely day. Other highlights from the day leading up to the meal (in rough chronological order): The satisfaction of successfully moving furniture across boroughs, the classic RK/CH omelet/French toast split, a TriBeCa games and magic shop, Van Gogh's brushstrokes, a portrait of McSorley's circa 1912, the most valuable coin in the universe, not getting a parking ticket, a quick kiss in the cold before the sun's setting, dead poet's cozy table overlooking the bar, Phish and Floyd on the radio, an Ommegang dark, chess on the building wall, memorable footprints off 3rd Avenue...

Vocabulary for the day: Mussels can be classified as nacreous, which means "containing nacre." It's also a great word to play for a Scrabble 50-point bingo. Yes, my mind works this way.