It was the Wife, In the Kitchen, With the Mussels

Anyone up for a game of Clue?

After taking my cooking class and learning how to make some typical Belgian recipes, I just had to try a few on my own (especially since I paid for the class). I needed to get my money's worth! Waterzooi was a big hit with my husband, so why not try mussels? Well, for one reason, my husband was a little nervous since they can be deadly if not cooked correctly.

I was respectful of his apprehension and took detailed notes while Guy (our cooking instructor) taught us the secrets as to delicious, safe, mussels. The main object is: Do not cook the mussel if it is not closed. If they are open, they are dead and deadly. I'm a rule follower, so that seemed easy enough.
After purchasing the mussels from the local Delhaize Monday, I opened the package, cleaned them, examined them, and tapped them with the spoon if they were the slightest bit open. If they were living, then they would close is what I had learned and written down in my notes. I pitched the ones (about 5) that wouldn't quite close all the way, proud of my cautiousness. I then cooked them as I was supposed to and added the extra yummy ingredients for a special sauce.

After devouring the whole kilogram of mussels from my newfound recipe, K and I went about our nightly routines of washing dishes, putting kids to bed, going to bed ourselves, etc.

It was a night just like any other until about midnight when K arose from bed to head to the bathroom. I was hoping just to relieve his bladder, but my fears came true as I heard him getting sick. By the way, are all men so loud when they're sick? He made so much noise in there! My guilt climbed higher and higher as he got louder and louder. It turned into about a 3 hour ordeal of him climbing into bed after an episode, only to have him roll out again and head back into his vomiting position. What a night! I of course couldn't sleep either because I felt empathy for him, guilty that I convinced him the mussel recipe would be safe. The peculiar thing is that I never got sick. We can't decide if he's allergic or if we just got a bad batch of mussels. Either way, I'm ditching the recipe and he's never eating them again...even in a restaurant where they supposedly know what they're doing.

Sidenote: This story was not funny while it was happening. It has taken us a few days to get to the laughing stage.
Sidenote #2: I did ask his permission to add this story to the blog.
Sidenote #3: I did not get any pictures of this.