Many years ago – perhaps almost 20 years – I went to San Diego to visit my college classmate David and his partner David (and naturally all their friends named David) for a week to escape the horrors of a New England ‘spring.’

One of our outings included snorkeling in La Jolla, a small and elite village just to the north. There, we ate lunch at La Valencia, a resort hotel dubbed The Pink Lady. And pink she is! We sat outside and enjoyed whatever sandwiches we ordered – mine was most likely something featuring the local seafood. I do love my seafood! Our waiter, a kind man with just enough gray at the temples to be fatherly, asked if we were visitors. One yes, one no. “Will you be visiting my home town in Mexico while you are here?” he asked? David told him that we planned to go south beyond Tijuana the next day. “Well, then, you must go to my cousin’s restaurant – he is the maître d’ at a fine French restaurant called El Rey Sol.” “French?” we both inquired with a hint of curiosity in our voices? “Yes, French.”

Our server then went on to share the story of how this restaurant came to be in the small seaside town of Ensenada, in Baja California. Her name was Donia Pepita and, in 1945 following the war, she traveled to France to study at the renowned Cordon Bleu. (I do hope I have all this correct – my memory is not what it used to be! But this will give you the idea…) She returned to Ensenada and, in 1947, opened El Rey Sol (The Sun King) on Avenida Lopez Mateos. It remains there today.


David and I entered into the richly decorated interior. It was dark and cool in contrast to the brightness of the seaside sun. The look was Old World and combined French wallpapers with Mexican tiled walls and fixtures, with stained and painted paneling below the wainscot. It was comfortable and romantic. We asked for our waiter’s cousin. “Lo siento mucho. Este es su día libre.” (I am so sorry. It is his day off.) No worries… we planned to eat there anyway.

Keeping with my seafood theme, I ordered the mussels in saffron broth – a dish that practically brought tears to my eyes. I spoke almost no Spanish at that time and relied heavily on David to help me. I asked David if he thought we could get the recipe. He asked our waiter who, in turn, asked in the kitchen. Soon, the chef appeared at our table and HE was not Donia Pepita. While I believe she was still alive at that time, she was no longer in the kitchen, although her recipes lived on. The chef, who spoke French, said there were no recipes but if I wished, I could accompany him into the kitchen for a demonstration. “Bien sur!”

He walked me back into the most beautifully appointed restaurant kitchen I had ever seen. Everything – in contrast to the the rich, dark salons in front – was bright white with stainless steel fixtures. And, in the midst of the lunch rush, it was calm and orderly. The chef took me to an empty work surface and, with a combination of mime and actual techniques, showed me how to make the dish without using a single ingredient. I wish I could remember his name to credit him in this post.

I was a bit unprepared to see the kitchen and to be taught by this great chef. And, I was not altogether ready to speak French simultaneously translating and trying to remember my lesson. Later that afternoon, in the car on the way to La Bufadora (“The Blowhole – a natural phenomenon amongst the craggy rocks south of Ensendada), I made my notes that eventually became today’s recipe.

I returned to my Upstate New York home and immediately set to trying this dish. The recipe I post today is the product of 20 years of fine tuning. But each time I have it, I am transported back to that day spent in Ensenada.

Many years later, after Mark and I had been together for a few years, we visited David and David in San Diego, and followed in the footsteps we had taken years before. The waiter at La Valencia was still there – and remembered us! – and he told us that Donia Pepita had passed on the restaurant to a family member, and that it was still very good even though his cousin no longer worked there. So off we went to Ensenada for a meal at El Rey Sol. The ambiance was just the same and the food just as good, although updated and with a sense of Franco-Mexican fusion. We had duck with a plum-chipotle sauce that melted in our mouths. Other dishes, as well, were tasted and shared although the duck shines in our memory.

Mussels can be hard to find if you live inland. But, if you can find them, make sure you get nice big ones cultivated on Prince Edward Island, Canada. The sweetness of the mussels is a wonderful combination with a buttery Chardonnay and the other-worldly saffron. This dish can be served as a soup course, first course or main course – but regardless of which course you choose, it needs to be served with a good, crusty French bread to sop up the sauce!

¡Buen provecho!

– David

Mussels in Saffron-Chardonnay Cream

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup chopped sweet onion
1 shallot, chopped
1/2 teaspoon saffron threads
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup chardonnay
1 pound cultivated mussels, scrubbed and debearded (discard any broken or opened mussels)
1/2 cup heavy cream
In a large saucepan, melt butter and cook onion and shallot over medium heat until soft and clear, but not browned – about 5 minutes.
Add the saffron and salt and stir until saffron begins to diffuse its color and flavor – about 30 seconds.  Add the wine and bring to a boil.  Add mussels and cover, and cook over high heat for 3-5 minutes until mussels have all opened. *

Pour broth through sieve and return mussels (or mussel meat) to the broth.  **  Add cream and bring just to a boil.  Serve with a crusty French bread and a crisp white wine.

Serves 2 as a main course, 4 as a starter or soup course


* You may remove the mussel meat and discard the shells at this point, if desired.

 ** If you prefer a more rustic version, you do not have to strain out the onions and shallots.

11 Comments

  1. Anonymous

    March 21, 2011 at 1:00 pm

    The important thing to know about the PEI mussels is that they are rope-cultured.

    This allows their succulent flavor to be enjoyed without grit. Many mussels taste as fine but few can be enjoyed without the additional disadvantage of grit.

    Reply
  2. Cocoa & Lavender

    March 21, 2011 at 1:01 pm

    Thanks! I should have mentioned this in the post – it is, indeed, why the PEI mussels are my favorite – no grit and generally little beard to deal with.
    Happy cooking!

    Reply
  3. Kirsten Honeyman

    March 21, 2011 at 2:44 pm

    Love your photography and how you step the reader through this and your other recipes. Very pleasing to the senses.

    Reply
  4. Cocoa & Lavender

    March 21, 2011 at 11:20 pm

    Thank you, Kirsten! Receiving your kind comment was a great way to start my week!

    Reply
  5. Kittredge Bret Harte

    March 22, 2011 at 2:00 am

    Although I am a vegetarian, your stories and recipes are delightful…..I can almost picture this lovely little place, thanks to your vivid recollections….

    Reply
  6. My Little Expat Kitchen

    March 22, 2011 at 11:06 am

    I loved that story David. So sweet, to go back there again after all these years with the same friends.
    This dish looks simply amazing. I love mussels and I am definitely trying your recipe, soon.
    Magda

    Reply
  7. Cocoa & Lavender

    March 22, 2011 at 1:37 pm

    @ Kitt – thanks so much! I will put in some good vegetarian recipes in the near future!

    @ Magda – thanks, as ever, for reading! Your comment made me realize that without the stories and the people, the food can be unimportant…

    Reply
  8. Susan Manfull

    March 31, 2011 at 8:33 pm

    As we await the Nor'easter, I've written my list for our dinner tonight–mussels are at the top of our list! Many thanks, as always, for your inspiration!

    Reply
  9. Cocoa & Lavender

    March 31, 2011 at 9:47 pm

    Thanks, Susan! I am working on my next post as we speak – another story form Mexico but more recent – this past weekend when I chaperoned 20 Honors students on a weekend at the Centro de Estudios de Desiertos y Oceanos. A wonderful woman named Olivia (and her helper Norma) made us wonderful gorditas with 'carne de chile colorado.' I am making the carne now and brought the 'sopes' – a type of corn tortilla – from the market in Puerto Peñasco. Stay tuned! And, so sorry about the Nor-easter!
    David

    Reply
  10. Susan

    April 1, 2011 at 2:53 am

    Scrumptious mussels! An easy and quick recipe, from which an elegant and absolutely delicious meal emerges. We used slightly over one pound of PEI mussels, opted for the “2 as a main meal course” version, and served them “rustic” style along with a baguette (clearly obligatory) and a mixed green salad. Very attractive meal, too! Another highly recommended recipe from C&L!

    The gorditas sound very interesting! (Okay, can I confess that we got a sneak peak of the photos and that they looked fabulous? If not, delte this!) So looking forward to Sunday's post!

    If only mi casa were tu casa!

    Gracias,

    Susan

    Reply
  11. Cocoa & Lavender

    April 1, 2011 at 4:47 am

    Ah, but mi casa es su casa! Anytime!

    So glad you enjoyed the mussels – they are truly simple and very elegant, as well.

    Thanks for sending the salmon photos in your e-mail – another easy recipe that makes a great presentation. Perhaps the simplest things in life are the best?

    ¡Hasta pronto, esperamos!
    David

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.