Friday, June 27, 2008

on the shroom




some time ago I had the pleasure of partaking in 'the black soup', a herbal concoction made from bark, roots and other bits of plants for which the cook had no English translation, and I, bereft of Chinese knowledge beyond ni hao, also cannot name. the soup, a recipe from EC's mother, has a reputation for health, healing and restoration; it's potent, and shouldn't be eaten too often. it also contains fungus. that night EC treated us to other fabulous mushroom dishes, since we're both confirmed fungus addicts (someone needs to restrain this woman when she gets her hands on truffle oil, and I know what she means). and so the reciprocal mushroom feast was born.



i'm hooked on the great mushroom dishes of autumn in Italy and Spain. hazelnuts and chestnuts and all things bronze, brown, gold and, well, mushroom coloured come together with rich, earthy flavours. dried things become useful again, as the burst of summer freshness wanes. I start thinking about polenta.

cooking polenta for the uninitiated is a bit of risk, especially when you tipsily preface the dish with
'most Italians won't even eat this stuff',
and your guests wonder why the hell you're cooking it. but it makes a wonderful pillow for mushrooms gently cooked in butter, garlic and a little sweet white wine or vermouth, and a scattering of roasted hazelnuts. it's even better with taleggio and buttery sage folded through the corn, as anyone who's had the pleasure of polenta at Café di Stasio will attest.






the two starters preceding this rich dish were also rich and heavy; great in small amounts, and a tribute to all things cheesy and fried. probably my favourite mushroom morsels, we had a variant on my family's recipe for stuffed mushrooms, and Frank Camorra's mushroom croquetas.

the stuffed mushrooms are beautifully simple to make; the croquetas are fiddly, finicky, messy, and likely to fail. they are, however, entirely delicious if successful, and therefore worth trying.

Stuffed mushrooms

preheat the oven to 200°c.
cut the stems out of whatever size and type of mushroom you desire, and lay them gills up on a baking tray.
in a food processor, blend a mixture of torn bread, feta cheese, crushed garlic, olive oil and thyme, oregano or parsley.
while the mixture shouldn't be runny and should hold it's shape when baked, it may need to be moistened with a bit of yoghurt, milk or water. other cheeses can be added for flavour.
fill each mushroom top with the stuffing mixture and bake for 20 - 30 minutes, until the mushroom is cooked and the stuffing is golden on top.
the mushrooms can be stuffed and refrigerated for some time before baking if you need to prep ahead of time; it can be quite helpful in softening the mushrooms and aiding the cooking process as the oil permeates the mushroom and prevents drying.


Mushroom croquetas

start at least half a day in advance, or the day before.

chop your desired mushrooms into small cubes. a kilo of mushrooms will make about 16 croquetas, as a rough guide.
fry the mushrooms on a medium heat in oil, or a combination of oil and butter, with some finely chopped onion or shallot, bay leaf, pepper and salt. the aim is to cook the mushrooms down until they begin to reduce in size, some moisture evaporating to give a reasonably dry result.

the mushroom mixture is then bound in a very stiff béchamel base:
melt a few tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, and add a few tablespoons of flour. stir this mixture occasionally and keep at a low heat for about 10 minutes, until the flour is 'cooked' but not browned.
add the mushroom mixture, stirring well and ensuring that the flour begins to absorb liquid. add milk in small pours, allowing for absorption each time.
keep working over a long, slow heat, until you have something slightly more fluid than dough. it will firm a little when it cools, but it will need to be handled in order to form the croquetas. too much liquid makes this impossible.

add plenty of nutmeg and taste. it doesn't take much to lift the flavour of the mixture if it seems too bland; adjust with salt, pepper and nutmeg. add finely chopped garlic and grated parmesan if you want a slightly more Italian version, however the pleasure of these fried morsels is in the subtle earthiness of the fungus, spiced with nutmeg and bay.

refrigerate the mixture for at least 2 hours, or overnight.

shape into croquetas, crumb each one, and set aside until you're ready to fry.
deep fry, or shallow fry and turn over until they're golden all over.

watching Frank Camorra's crumbing method on Food Safari was quite helpful- keeping one hand away from the egg and therefore crumb-free for the dry stages really reduces the frustration of crumbing.