On Newfoundland’s rocky shores, picking mussels at low tide is a summer ritual as old as the settlements themselves. Families would head to the beach with a bucket, gather the fat blue mussels clinging to the rocks, and steam them right there over a driftwood fire or in the kitchen pot the minute they got home. The water in the bay was the seasoning, and a knob of butter the only luxury needed. Nothing tastes more like the coast.
What makes them great is how fast they come together — five minutes from pot to plate, with the mussels opening to release a briny, buttery broth that begs to be sopped up with crusty bread. The onion and wine add sweetness without covering up the sea. Serve them in big bowls with plenty of melted butter and lemon, and let everyone fight over the broth at the bottom.
