Bearded bivalves have never tasted so good.
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In one direction, the outline of the You Yangs breaks the horizon. In another, Melbourne's skyscrapers jut into the skyline. We're standing on the deck of Valerie, a 40-year-old trawler, as it bobs on the waters of Port Phillip Bay. A winch is heaving lines from the depths. When it stops, we're staring at thousands of glossy shellfish gently swinging on ropes near the boat's starboard. It's our first glimpse of today's lunch.
"Look for the big ones," says Connie Trathen, today's deckhand, who's holding a stainless-steel bucket. "Yep, they're good," she tells me when I point to a couple of the larger mussels. I pluck them, rub the pad of my thumb over the shell to send some other hitchhiking creatures - baby mussels, aquatic worms, skeleton shrimp - back into the ocean and drop them in Connie's bucket.
Our captain Lance Wiffen, who owns Sea Bounty, the company that runs this marine farm, splits one open with his knife. "This one's a male," he says, displaying it in his palm. "They have white flesh." He hands it over for someone to try and opens more until he finds one that's bright orange: a female mussel. "Taste that one," he says, giving it to the same guest: "See if there's a difference." The female mussels are more bitter, he tells us, the corners of his mouth flicking upward in a quick grin.
An hour earlier we'd been on the jetty at Portarlington, the town on Victoria's Bellarine Peninsula that has become the state's mussel capital. That's where we met Lance, who's been farming the waters off the town since 1986.
"I'm a fourth-generation farmer on the Bellarine," he says from Valerie's wheelhouse. "My family were dairy farmers and, when that became unviable, we moved into fishing then mussel farming."
The Wiffens gave scallops a go then started with three hectares of mussels. Now they have more than 200 hectares and 17 employees. Despite Port Phillip Bay having almost perfect conditions for growing the mollusc, those first years weren't easy. Sales were glacier-slow and spat, the larval mussel necessary for farming, was in short supply. Now, Sea Bounty sells more than a thousand tonnes of mussels each year.
Best of all, mussel farming is sustainable. "The more you grow, the better it is for the environment," says Lance. There are no inputs - no fresh water, no food, no chemicals or pesticides - and the farms create a habitat that attracts other marine species, creating a diverse ecosystem. Even the mussel shells act as a carbon sink. As far as sources of protein go, this one is super green.
Tours had been on his mind for more than a decade, ever since some of the world's best chefs and food writers wanted to see how his operation worked up close. He'd take them out on the working vessels, but conditions were less than ideal. Today, Valerie is alongside one of those boats. It's called Feral, and certainly looks as though it could live up to its name. Late March saw the launch of these luxury tours on the beautifully restored Huon pine trawler, and it was worth the wait. The details are outstanding, from the plush blankets for tucking around chilly knees to a video set-up that allows guests to watch Lance's wife Lizzie's cooking demonstrations. Guests are greeted by a cheese board, sourced from local producers, and there's a selection of Bellarine Peninsula wines and beers to enjoy.
There's another treat to relish as we're sailing the bay: native angasi oysters, which were once prolific in these waters. "Great middens of angasi oyster shells dot the sand around Port Phillip Bay where Boonwurrung and Wathaurong Aboriginal people sat for the original oyster frenzies," Lance tells us. Early European settlers soon developed a taste for them and, by 1841, the Boonwurrung women, who'd been feeding their families with the oysters for thousands of years, were banned from harvesting them. By the 1880s, the oysters were as good as fished out. Now, Lance has begun farming angasi oysters. He's trialling different commercial methods, but so far is only growing enough for visitors on his tour. As fast as he can shuck them, we devour the small, creamy oysters. Surprisingly, they have a stronger flavour than their more widely available siblings.
Like any good foraging tour, this one ends with a feast. Lizzie is an expert on the pans and shares how to cook the fresh-from-the-sea mussels. The trick, she says, is to steam them quickly. Just three minutes and they're ready to go. "Don't worry about whether they open or not," she tells us, in opposition to widely held wisdom. The ones we're eating today, having been plucked straight from their rope homes, are as fresh as they come. If you're cooking mussels you've bought from the fishmonger, just prise a closed one with a knife until it's open. If it's no good, says Lizzie, you'll smell it straight away.
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She prepares the first batch Kilpatrick style. "This is my job every Christmas," says Lizzie, as she plates up. "We'd go through 10 kilograms of mussels easily with this dish."
And it's easy to see why. The plump, juicy mussels are complemented perfectly by the topping. Then it's on to the second course: bowls of mussels soused in a delicious cider and herb sauce. With the sun peeking through clouds, the breeze blowing and bellies full of fresh seafood and local riesling, we head back to port a little more aware of just what it takes for a salty sea captain to farm these delicious shellfish.
SNAPSHOT
The three-hour Portarlington Mussel Tour departs on the weekends (see the website for upcoming dates). It costs $230 a person (maximum 12 guests), which includes cooking demonstrations, local produce, a mussel lunch and a complimentary beverage of choice from a selection of Bellarine beers, ciders and premium wines. See portarlingtonmusseltours.com.au
Pictures: Carrie Hutchinson; supplied