Steamed mussels, served with a bowl of fries and a ramekin of aîoli. A glass of white wine is nearby.

Moules Frites

• November 19, 2024

Steaming mussels over a broth of shallots, herbs, and wine and serving them with a haystack of crispy French fries and garlicky aïoli is one of our favorite celebration meals.

When it comes to the broth, our preferences have evolved over time. We used to keep it fairly simple—little more than wine, shallots, garlic, and herbs—until we became obsessed with Portland chef Aaron Barnett’s version as he served it at La Moule (RIP). Following his lead, we give our mussels the full “marinière” treatment and increase the quantities so there’s plenty of broth to go around. Since the mussels have only so much juice to impart, we add a few bottles of clam juice to the wine. After the mussels are steamed and the broth strained, we swirl in butter off the heat, along with a spoonful of Dijon, capers, lemon juice, and plenty of chopped parsley.

If you don’t have the time or inclination to fry up some potatoes, you could do a lot worse than resorting to a bag of frozen fries. We are certainly not above using convenience foods, especially when it makes meals like this convenient enough for dinner during the work week. (Irma wrote a whole book on how to cut corners. I’m sure she would have loved the frozen potato selection in our freezer aisles.)

Of course, good crusty bread is perfect for sopping up the mussel broth. Doubling up on the carbs may seem excessive, but I assure you: this is the right move, especially with all of that rich and flavorful broth.

Moules Frites

YIELD

4 servings

PREP TIME

10 minutes

COOK TIME

25 minutes

Ingredients

6 pounds mussels
1 cup aïoli, store-bought or homemade (see note)
French fries, frozen or freshly fried (see note)
2 cups dry white wine
Two 8-ounce bottles clam juice
2 shallots
3 garlic cloves
4 sprigs parsley
4 sprigs thyme

1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon fine salt
1 stick (4 ounces) butter
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon capers
Lemon juice
Minced parsley
Crusty bread

Equipment

Large pot with lid

Scrub, debeard (see note), and set aside:

6 pounds mussels

Prepare:

1 cup aïoli (see note)

French fries (see note)

While the fries cook, bring to a boil in a large pot over high heat and cook for 3 minutes:

2 cups dry white wine

Two 8-ounce bottles clam juice

2 shallots, minced

3 garlic cloves, chopped

4 sprigs parsley

4 sprigs thyme

1 bay leaf

1/2 teaspoon fine salt

Add the mussels, cover the pot, and cook, shaking the pot occasionally, until the mussels have opened, 8 to 10 minutes. Divide the mussels among serving bowls. Discard the thyme, parsley, and bay leaf. Add to the cooking liquid:

1 stick (4 ounces) butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon capers

Stir until the butter has melted and pour the broth over the mussels. Top with:

Lemon juice

Minced parsley

Serve with the French fries, aïoli, and:

Crusty bread

Use a half shell to spoon up the liquor to the last drop.

NOTES

Mussels often have “beards,” or a tangle of dark fibers that enable them to cling to rocks. Just before cooking, simply pull the dark, fibrous strands that emerge from between the shells near the hinge, moving them back and forth until they give way.

For the sake of convenience, we recommend using frozen French fries and preparing them according to the instructions on the package. If you’re dead-set on making the fries from scratch, using the cold-start method is going to be the sanest choice: see the second version of our recipe for French fries on page 270 of the 2019 edition.

About that aïoli: again, for the sake of convenience, we recommend cutting some corners. To make a quick batch, start with 1 cup of store-bought mayo (Duke’s is preferred) and stir in 4 garlic cloves, minced or grated with a microplane. Or, if you can find it at the store, simply serve with toum. To make aïoli from scratch, find our recipe on page 564 of the 2019 edition.

About the Author

John Becker, Irma’s great-grandson, is the fourth generation co-author and steward of the Joy of Cooking. John has a background in literature, research, and critical writing. Influenced by his father Ethan’s improvisational style and his mother Joan’s love of international foods and spices, John started experimenting in the kitchen at a young age, whether in his mother’s Portland, Oregon condo or at the Becker family home in Cincinnati, Ohio. Many decades later, he continues to revisit Joy’s classic dishes while exploring new recipes, ingredients, and ways of thinking about home cooking.

Things that are true about John

When left to his own devices, John will slather his morning toast with fried chili paste instead of jam (unless its apricot).
John has probably used 5 forms of garlic in the last 24 hours.
John is a soda and bitters enthusiast.
Sometimes John struggles in the kitchen, even when he’s making something he basically knows by heart.
John is a recent convert to the chicken bouillon powder faith.
John is a pan juice aficionado.
John has gotten a speeding ticket while trying to keep Sichuan takeout from getting cold.
Grilling fish for company stresses John out.
John is impatient when making dark roux.
John thinks fried potato snacks belong in more sandwiches.
John is a recovering garlic press hater.
John thinks baby tongs are much better than culinary tweezers.