POSTCARDS FROM THE SEASIDE.

What you really bring home from a holiday are ideas.

I send postcards to myself when travelling. Imaginary ones.

They say things like ‘tiepido’ scrawled on the back, like some strange and mysterious code. That one’s from the Italian Portofino Coast, where it’s so hot I barely have the energy to order an insalata di mare tiepido. Tiepido – such a better word for luke-warm, or room temperature, than tepid.

At the Eden Roc restaurant overlooking the sparkling waters that almost surround the Excelsior Palace Hotel in Rapallo - a wonderfully old-school Italian beachside hotel of marble floors, antiques, formal aperitivo services on the terrace, and light switches and shower taps that are reassuringly manually operated - the prawns, mussels and calamari are delicately arranged around a smooth, glossy lemon gel.

I’m already adding to the postcard in my head. “Make this! It’s great! But how do you make lemon gel?” etc.

Home again, I collect my metaphorical mail.

I think this insalata di mare would be a charming dish at any time of the year. The nice thing about it is indeed that it is tiepido, so you can cook it a couple of hours ahead and leave it to rest in its own juices.

Mussels are great right now, so they are a must. Calamari, of course. A couple of prawns. Don’t overdo it; hold back. Your best olive oil. Add capers if you like. Finely sliced celery, maybe, or fennel? A judicious pinch of dried roasted chilli. I never did get to work out how to do the lemon gel, but a quick whisked emulsion of lemon juice and olive oil is close enough.

If you want to turn it into a meal, add chickpeas and a couple of cooled-down roasted tomatoes to squish into the dressing. If you want to keep it more budget-friendly, do it with mussels and soft chunks of steamed potato.

Or dump the whole lot onto steaming hot, drained pasta, and let the pasta warm up the seafood and the seafood cool down the pasta, the two fusing together into Italy-by-the-sea.

INSALATA DI MARE TIEPIDO, or

WARM SEAFOOD SALAD.

Serves 4

• 1 kg fresh mussels or clams

• 500 g small fresh squid, cleaned

• 2 tbsp olive oil

• 150 ml white wine

• 2 garlic cloves, finely sliced

• 8 fresh green prawns, peeled

• 2 tbsp lemon juice

• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

• Sea salt and cracked black pepper

• 1 tbsp flat parsley leaves, torn

• 1 lemon, quartered, for serving

Scrub the mussels clean, debeard, and rinse.

Clean and rinse the squid thoroughly and cut into 1 cm rings, or into 4 cm pieces, scoring the inside lightly to help them curl (I do both).

Heat the olive oil, white wine and garlic in a heavy-lidded frypan.

Add the mussels, cover tightly, and turn up the heat.

Shake the pan after 1 minute and remove any opened shells.

Cover and return to the heat for another minute, then remove any opened shells.

Repeat, until all shells are open.

Strain the broth into a smaller pan and gently heat.

Add the prawns and simmer for 1 minute or until pink, then pick them out and leave to rest.

Add the squid and simmer gently for 30 seconds until just cooked and tender.

Strain the broth into a jug and save for future potential.

Whisk the lemon juice, olive oil, sea salt and pepper together until thickened, and gently toss the mussels, squid, prawns, sea salt and pepper until coated.

Arrange on a plate, tip the last of the dressing over the top, and leave to cool.

Serve with lemon wedges.

Thanks for dropping by! And thanks for your comments and suggestions. Special thanks to Terry for joining me in ordering insalata di mare to share, followed by fritto misto di mare to share, in what I consider to be a perfectly balanced meal by the sea. (And for sneaking scallops into my version above).

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I would like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the lands and waters upon which I work, live, cook and play; the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. Thank you for sharing your culture, traditions, knowledge, spirit, art, music, humour and food traditions, allowing us all to experience a sense of belonging in this ancient land.