Whelks were the order of the day today tonight, and the first of the B’s certainly delivered something worth writing home about. A conch pronounced cock, I mean conk, is a mollusk that resides in those pretty pink sea-snail shells. They can be mistaken for whelks, their uglier and smaller counterpart. You guessed it, whelks are what I used today. I was lucky to find them in the excellent Chinese shop down the road, that seems to stock everything from clams to crabs and everything in-between. Needless to say, they have plenty of bizarre animal parts up for grabs too. I had considered using clams, but these ugly snails just looked too disgustingly inedible and too much like aliens parasites - I had to have them.
I have never considered myself (too) squeamish and have always prided myself on trying my hand at anything involving unusual meat or fish. I also believe that if you aren’t prepared to kill your own food, you shouldn’t be prepared to eat it. I see little difference between, for example chicken and chickens, except of course for the obvious fact that one is dead and one is still clucking. For the record, I was totally prepared to kill these slithering snails (and was looking forward to smelling them sizzle in my pan). It was hacking off the moving limbs and organs, with my bare hands, of a very much alive and slithering whelk that was the problem. I considered plunging them into boiling water to kill them instantly, but thought the better of it - just grow a pair and bare them live.
It was all very dramatic. I gave it a fair go, but my girly instincts meant I squealed and recoiled and became giddy – I’m flinching even as I write this and I can’t stop, my face is nearly sore from flinching. They are giant snails after all, alive and slithering. Who knows if they could feel anything. Somewhere between being barbarically evicted from of their home, getting their so called foot and tiny penis (see the photo below) brutally amputated with a blunt knife, my courageous boyfriend (who scoffed and stepped up after my dramatics) put them out of their misery. Slowly, I would imagine. Time of death? It’s difficult to say. Surely they must have been dead by the time I cut them up with a scissors?
For the record Luke thinks they were already dead. They were not. He wants to clear his name as welch killer. He’s also in denial.
Whelk or Conch Chowder
Despite all of the drama an bother of getting to the actual cooking of the whelks, this recipe is a very simple and tasty one. The whelk tastes a bit like scallops and had the texture of rubbery squid. This recipe calls for the whelks to be cooked long and slowly so that they tenderize nicely. Mine were on for an hour and half and this still wasn’t time enough. But we were hungry and tired after the ordeal of cleaning them (I did watch after all), and couldn’t wait any longer. Some bits were tender and some were extremely chewy. Be patient and give it two hours or more, easier still, cut the whelks up into smaller pieces. All in all, this was a tasty and comforting soup with lovely morsels of shellfish and veg. If you fancy some culinary excitement in your life, this is the one for you.
Serves 2
5 whelks, cleaned in salted water (see link below)
1 small red onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
1 potato, diced
2 strips of bacon, chopped
1 tin of chopped tomatoes
a dash of worcestershire sauce
40g tin of lobster (for extra fishiness)
a splash of milk or cream (about 200ml)
Clean the whelks and chop them into bite sized pieces (as I didn’t clean them you should watch this link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8teuNuqRsg that should explain how to clean a conch, and therefore a whelk). Fry the bacon in a large pan until crispy, then add all of the ingredients except the tinned tomatoes, a splash of water and simmer for about fifteen minutes. Then add the tinned tomatoes, a splash of worcestershire sauce and season with salt and pepper. Simmer until the whelk is tender. Now you're whelkome to enjoy.
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