Mussels almost smack dab in the middle of Mexico? Maybe it’s crazy to even think about them. But I do. And often.

I’ve always wanted mussels (yes, pun definitely intended, and particularly in the upper arms). I have since I was about 20 (nobody ate mussels before I turned 20). They were part of a starving student’s diet when they were three pounds for a buck. And they’ve stayed on my menu throughout their rise in price and popularity.

In San Miguel de Allende, mussels have been here today, gone tomorrow. La Brasserie used to have them. Mi Osteria sometimes has them. The Tuesday market might have them but they’ve probably been previously frozen (never, ever buy frozen). Berlin has them but only once a week. La Isla sometimes has them. El Vergel has them but they’re a 150 peso cab ride. Bon Appetit almost always had them…and very good ones…but Bon Appetit locked its doors long ago.

So where to go? Well now, there’s a San Miguel restaurant that’s serving mussels six days a week and they’re serving them in a sauce that might be the best this town has ever licked off a mussel shell.

But first a bit about mussels in general. Like I said, 50 years ago, nobody I knew in the Canadian town I grew up in ate mussels. 50 years later, a lot of people in my town must eat mussels. The province of Prince Edward Island alone produced 41 million pounds last year.

And while we’re on to hard facts, I would like to debunk (if only because I so seldom get to use the word debunk) a popular myth about mussels. It’s that mussels should only be eaten in months with an “R” in them. The only reason I could ever find for this was because of what are called red tides once causing a serious illness called paralytic shellfish poisoning on the west coast of the U.S. The major problem with this is that red tides occur in the warmer months, the ones without an “R” in them. Not only that, but these days, almost every mussel on the west coast is farmed and mussel farmers are able to eliminate the dangers of red tides.

After 25 years of marriage, it’s amazing what couples talk about. The other night, while she knew I was researching mussel recipes, Don Day’s Wife said to me, “How do mussels procreate?” I tried to share with her what I knew about their sex life but I got a little tongue-tied and decided it was best left to an expert. So, for Don Day’s Wife and anyone else that might be intrigued, this account of mussel farming from peimussel.com:

In the spring when the water temperature reaches around 15 degrees centigrade, PEI Mussels spawn which means they release their eggs and sperm. There is a swimming stage called mussel larva, and at just the right time the mussel farmer puts out seed collectors; usually frayed pieces of rope or strips of plastic mesh attached to a long line. The collector serves as a settlement surface for the billions of mussel larva swimming in the water.

After they attach, they form a hard shell and are called spat. Once a spat is around one inch long (usually around the first of October) they are hand stripped from the ropes and taken ashore. The mussel seed are then declumped and graded into uniform size classes before being placed into plastic mesh sleeves/tubes called socks. Within hours the mussel socks are taken back out to the farm and hand tied onto the long lines.

Don Day’s Wife’s response to me, after my sharing these intimate details was, “Sure, that’s the scientific stuff but I still don’t know if there are males and females and if they, you know, do it.” I had to admit it, I didn’t know either.

Vinos+Tapas opened their doors about a year ago, first as a wine store (they have the best selection of Mexican wines I’ve ever seen in San Miguel), then a few months ago also as a restaurant.

The focus of the menu is, as the name of the restaurant suggests, ten little snacks from the northeast of Spain called tapas. But there are also eight little snacks from Basque country in the northwest of Spain called pinxtos and about twenty other dishes further down on the list.

There were ten of us who met up at Vinos+Tapas last Thursday. Thursday is the restaurant’s mussel night, when a good-sized bowl and a glass of wine for 200 pesos is the featured special. The restaurant is one of San Miguel’s most elegantly decorated. A tall, upholstered banquette wraps around two walls. A wall of glass turns tangled vines into art. Everything is done in shades of grey with hints, here and there of black and white. The overall feeling is very cool, very classy but I wouldn’t mind a splash of red somewhere to warm things up.

The black, white and grey theme travels up on to the tables as well and here it really works. Plates are the frame. Food is the art. And they never fight each other at Vinos+Tapas.

Dishes are brought to the table not only by servers but by a woman who continues that monotone theme with her own apparel. Stefania Chavez, the chef/owner seems to reflect everything about Vinos+Tapas. I’ve never seen the chef/owner in anything but black and white. Her personality, though, glows with all the colors of the rainbow. Stefania is charming, confident, enthusiastic, ebullient, knowledgable and animated. And those traits are infectious.

When I first met Stefania Chavez, I was little shocked to see how old she was, to discover a woman in her mid-twenties already running her own show.

“I graduated from culinary school in Juarez”, Stefania told me, “then I was a teacher at the Instituto Paso del Norte in the same city. Next I joined the hotel chain, Grupo Posadas, as executive chef, followed by a move to Oaxaca where I managed two restaurants. Finally I came back to my hometown to open Vinos+Tapas.”

The mussels arrive in a bright white bowl on a bright white tray with an empty, matching bright white bowl beside it to deposit the shells. On the side is one the most functional utensils I’ve ever used. The four inch long fork is perfect for digging the chunky golden flesh from their mother-of-pearl homes.

Mussels are served two ways at Vinos+Tapas. The first is a fairly conventional treatment. The menu calls it Mussels in White Wine Sauce and Stefania told me, “My white wine sauce is only garlic, onion, parsley and white wine.”

The white wine sauce is good but it’s the second way mussels are served that has me so excited.

The mussels I’ve eaten most in my life are moules marinière usually with white wine, leeks, anise, garlic, tomatoes and that most magical ingredient Pernod. Now, what Vinos+Tapas calls their House Sauce is really nothing at all like moules marinière except for that lingering tingle on the tongue reminiscent of Pernod. Well, probably, not Pernod, but some other anise-based liqueur.

There is a liqueur in the house sauce, but it’s a homemade, herb liqueur, Stefania told me. “I created the recipe based on several books and ideas from my clients,” she said.

There’s another ingredient in the sauce that also adds to its appeal. Do you remember the seventies when everybody loved sun dried tomatoes? Then the eighties when way too many things had sun dried tomatoes? And the nineties when they were so passé? Well sun dried tomatoes are back and in Stefania Chavez’ house sauce. All I can say is welcome home.

Timing is so important with mussels. Too often chefs overcook the first mussels to open waiting for the last ones to open. Don Day’s Wife watches them until about 90% are open and then just tosses the rest. And it’s not that she thinks the ones she’s tossing are bad (that’s the purpose of Don Day’s prominent proboscis before they’re ever cooked). It’s just that their abductor muscles are stronger so the first ones that have opened will be shrivelled and tough and dry if she waits.

I’m not sure if Stefania Chavez uses the 90% rule but every mussel that has arrived at my table has been open, plump and moist.

From, this day on, to me, mussel bound in San Miguel de Allende will mean on the way to Vinos+Tapas. And when Stefania Chavez adds Belgian frites to the menu this March, and I can dip them in that house sauce, it will be more and more often.

Vinos+Tapas is located at Insurgentes #63 In San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. The restaurant is open from Tuesday to Thursday, 1:00 pm to 10:00 pm; Friday and Saturday, 1:00 pm to Midnight; Sunday, 10:00 pm to 7:00 pm. For reservations, call 415 152 2563.