Mussels in Japanese dashi, garlic bread






Hmmm. How inexpensive. I figured it would cost at least twice this.




These two things are the base for untold number of Japanese dishes. Why it doesn't come up on YouTube searches for mussels is beyond me. Maybe I had ask it specifically, "mussels, dashi." Nope. That didn't work.

Well then, here we are. First in the world.



Garlic for the steaming liquid and for the toast.



Originally I had scallions, those green things, but I changed it to purple.






For the toast.


It was a busy day, although busier for everyone else I had contact, and that pushed back the time for preparing a meal such when it got down to the critical moment I passed, boxed it all up and called it a night. The mussels fed on pulverized oatmeal overnight in the refrigerator.

I felt bad for the immigrant delivery guy.

     What went wrong?

He speaks English poorly. So poor you can hardly make out what he is saying. The situation compounded his difficulty. 

I had two orders. A later one tacked onto the first one. The website makes this sound easy but the orders are handled separately even though they are handled together. Make sense? I know, right? 

The non-English speaking fellow who looks a bit rough but is actually quite gentle is having difficulty with the entrance. I manage to have him use the callbox so I can buzz him in, and here is where our communication ends. I have instructions for all this. And instructions to ask for a cart if he needs one. He most certainly will if he doesn't have his own. The second order is delivered to my front door with the faintest of knocks. When I answer, nobody is there. A package is left at the door. I yell into the hallway, "Thank you." There is a muffled response. 

Darn. They didn't deliver the first order. Only the much smaller second. I'll wait.

Later I check online. They indicate that they delivered. I check the front. The entire entryway is loaded with my bags just sitting there. 

The whole time. 

Anyone could have just picked up anything that they saw and wanted for that whole time, but nobody did.

Here's the sad part. I had $20.00 tip for Oswaldo in addition to the charges that the first and second party added onto my bill, that amounted to $30.00 addition. The grocery adds two charges and the delivery place adds a charge. But all that is not enough for the amount that Oswaldo must carry from his car to my apartment. That's why I have his tip separate from everything else. I really appreciate the person Oswaldo (or whoever it was) doing my shopping and delivering it. Instacart takes all the credit for organizing parties, but it's Oswaldo who does all the work.

None of my notes to the order were read.

There were a lot of dumb little mistakes mostly about quantities that were clearly detailed in notes but none of that got through, I think due to language difficulty and due to the individual not being a cook. Two tomatillos, for example, instead of two pounds, two Anajeim chiles instead of two pounds. Less laundry soap than I ordered, larger dish soap. Ice cream in individual servings instead of one box. Two small tomatoes instead of two packages of tomatoes. Nearly every decision made was moderate, to bring me less, rather than to add onto the order. The puller-deliver guy did not make any notes to my phone. None. Nothing to respond to along the way, nothing to answer. No communication at all. Whereas the previous puller-deliver people were more like helpless babes who not understanding food or cooking needed help with everything. Everything. 

He came and he experienced his insane difficulty without the help of my cart, and so silently that the guy waiting for him, who opened the door for him with a buzz, missed him when he passed by upstairs so silently. 

All he had to say was, "I have a lot more to bring up." But no. He did his job silently. As if not to bother anyone. The second bit first, then the rest. But he didn't say anything. 

Had he been noisier, more aggressive, more demanding, more insistent on having help more explaining of himself, then he would have $20.00 also that might make it worthwhile, and a new friend besides, instead his communication insecurity caused him to miss it. He made me miss him. And I was ready. He faked me out with that second delivery thing appearing at my doorstep with a faint knock. I thought that was that.

One of the notes was, "I really want oysters. King Soopers has them but they are not online. Please substitute these mussels with oysters. This whole order is about oysters." 

They didn't read that. Or else I'd have oysters and not these mussels. 

I had to put away all that crap. And then the day really got busy.

Oh. These mussels are very good. Ate the whole thing. You should make some and try it. They're cheap as heck and they are delicious. You know, if you squished the meat that comes out of this whole bag of mussels, compress it to the density of beef, then you might have enough meat for one mussel-hamburger patty. 

Good as this dashi is, enhanced now with butter, vermouth and salt and pepper, already excellent, it changes completely by the liquid released from each mussel. It's mind-blowing. 

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