I start this post, and a Sylvia Plath poem about mushrooms goes through my head. Can’t remember it all, but the last few lines suggest that, one day, mushrooms will take over the world. From my point of view, that wouldn’t be a bad thing…if I got to eat them.
Mushrooms. A great divider. Some hate the softness of texture, see it as slippery. (And if you’re on pickled mushrooms, a Polish delicacy (for some), I’m with you there.) But many others love the pungency, the juices as they cook, the beautiful natural colour palette between cap, gills, stalk.
I love the look of large mushrooms (the kind you can stuff), when you remove the stalk, and you get to see the dark folds of the gills. Just before you hide them in butter, garlic, herbs, cheese…that kind of thing.
Week by week, my veg selection may change when I shop, but mushrooms are part of it, pretty much every time. Whether they’re adding texture to a pasta sauce, nestling in a risotto, they’re welcome.
They also happen to be a brilliant ingredient for involving kids in cooking. Too little for chopping with knives? Mushrooms can be ripped, broken up with the fingers. I still love the ‘clunk’ of separating mushroom cap from stalk. It’s this pattern of little pleasures in cooking that draw us to ingredients, as much as the tastes, I think.
I had an early experiment in salad creation, pairing raw mushrooms with oranges, and using some of the juice as an alternative dressing. It didn’t go a great deal beyond that, to be honest, but I still like raw mushrooms too. Writing this, I’m now thinking some babyleaf spinach wouldn’t go amiss, and maybe a little honey in the dressing?
Mushrooms as a child also included Campbells condensed mushroom soup. Dan doesn’t go for this (smell and texture I think is the issue), though it can make a great easy sauce for cooking chicken with. I also had a small phase of making cheese on toast with grilled mushroom on top – pretty good, though I think my heart belongs to tomato instead as a topping.
I also have a memory, as I write, of Little Grey Rabbit books. There’s one where she meets…a traveller? I can’t remember how he’s described. But he teaches her various things, including cooking mushrooms in the fire until they are smoky and juicy. I’m sure part of my food memory of mushrooms comes from this, imagining how good it would taste.
There’s that famous comment ‘Life is too short to stuff a mushroom‘. (Sadly, can’t remember the origin just now, and I’m writing this quickly, so I’ll maybe check another time.) [Update: it was Shirley Conran, in her book Superwoman.]
Still, I think there’s ALWAYS time to stuff a mushroom – or indeed, to deep fry it if you can, in breadcrumbs. In my veggie days, breaded mushrooms were one of my great delights on the occasions we went out as a family and I could choose a starter. And I wouldn’t say no to them now, either.
Later, I came upon a pretty good substitute – baked mushrooms. Nigel Slater and Nigella seem to go halfers on whose idea this is, but it’s pretty fabulous with – again – garlic, butter, and so on. I love the way that, even with little button mushrooms, they can look unassuming as they come out of the oven. But the juices…just make sure you’ve got plenty of bread for mopping.
I’m pretty happy with mushrooms as part of a breakfast too. I remember a great one, where my great aunt had found field mushrooms while out for a walk – it may have been a brunch, or even an evening meal, but the mushrooms rose to the occasion.
Some Polish friends in Edinburgh are great mushroom picking aficianados. I keep meaning to ask to go with them, because I love a little foraging (usually limited to brambles and the odd wild raspberry), and getting mushrooms, not just fresh but FREE, would be even better.
Some mushroom tastes I still have to acquire. I’m not the greatest on dried mushrooms, for some reason, although my brain recognises the notion as good. I’m not that keen on straw mushrooms either, which crop up in Chinese cooking. Something a little too musty about them, I think.
The whole point of mushrooms taking over the world is – well, that’s kind of what they’re meant to do. Growing on dead trees. In hollows. On compost heaps. So they taste great, and they just happen to help with decomposition. Here’s to the ever helpful mushroom.