This is one of my recipe all-stars, as it is breathtakingly easy, takes 15-20 minutes to prepare from grocery bag to table, and always produces a ripple of awe and gratitude, as people think that you’ve either slaved for hours, or are a Mario Batali-esque kitchen whiz (or, God-willing, both).

To illustrate, I once pulled this recipe out for an impromptu Girls’ Night In. I received the phone call at 6, my friends would arrive at 7:30, and I had nothing to serve. 45 minutes later I had returned from my neighborhood Whole Foods with mussels, onion, parsley, crusty bread, and white wine. I cleaned the apartment (or shoved the detritus underneath the couch), cleared off the kitchen table, and started prepping around 7:15. The ladies arrived, coats were hung, bums in seats, and dinner was served by 7:35.

Clean-tasting, salty, and plump, Moules Mariniere swimming in their buttery sauce.

Even more amazing than the bag-to-table timing was the fact that years later, my friend K still uses this recipe as evidence of my culinary wizardry. Never mind the fact that she’s eaten and enjoyed a number of recipes that have taken hours and much more effort to prepare, this is the one that earned her devotion. It’s as though you walked out the door in jeans, t-shirt, hair in a ponytail, and your boyfriend raised his arms to the sky and declared that you had never looked more stunning. It is that dumbfounding, but I’ll take adoration anyway (and from anyone) that I can get it, and thus present to you the recipe most likely to receive a standing ovation.

A couple notes: I typically make this recipe as a dinner for 1 or 2, or appetizers for 4-6, but the recipe can easily be doubled by simply doubling the ingredients and tacking a couple minutes onto each cooking stage – just make sure that the mussels aren’t too crowded in the pot.

Also, although I rarely do things ‘lite’, real Moules Mariniere has heavy cream added to the sauce at the end, which I’ve never found appetizing – it detracts from the marvelousness that is briny onion, garlic, butter and olive oil. I found myself sort of petulantly refusing to put in, conveniently forgetting to pick up cream at the market. In any case, my recipe does not contain it, but if you’ve been meaning to put on a bit of weight, feel free to add a solid half cup of cream instead of the extra Tbls. of butter at the end.

Click here for a printable version of the recipe

Moules Mariniere

Ingredients:

2 lbs. Mussels

2 Tbls. Olive Oil

3 Tbls. Butter

1 Large Red Onion

4 Cloves Garlic, Chopped

1 ½ Cup White Wine

2 Sprigs Thyme

1 Bay Leaf

2 Tbls. Parsley, Chopped

1 Loaf Crusty French Bread

Preparation:

Prepare the mussels by washing them under cold water and removing their beards (the stringy bit hanging out of them). Check to make sure that the mussels are all closed; if they are a bit open, tap on the shell; if they start to close, they are good, if they don’t move at all, discard them.

Heat the olive oil and 2 tbls. of the butter in a large stock pot on medium heat until the butter has melted. Add the onion and garlic and cook for 8-10 minutes.

[Use this down time to cut the French bread into slices. You can opt to toast them, add a little extra virgin olive oil (the best that you have), or leave them as they are for dipping in the sauce.]

Add the wine, bay leaf, and thyme to the pot, and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down to medium-low, add the mussels, cover the pot, and let them cook for 2-3 minutes. Remove the mussels with tongs and discard any that haven’t opened.

Return the pot, with the liquid to the stove and boil over medium-high heat for 2-3 minutes. Remove from the heat and whisk in the remaining 1 Tbls. of butter.

I like to serve these family style – one big pot in the table – with toasted bread for a big group. The disappointment of finding ourselves halfway through our pile of mussels is tempered by the fact that we’ve uncovered this spectacular sauce for dipping our bread at the bottom of the pot.

For just 1 or 2 of us, I serve a portion to each person in their own bowl, sauce poured over the mussels, bread on the side, and an extra dipping bowl with sauce reserve to share.