Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Mushroom, mushroom

Recently I ate a Portobello burger at the Getty Villa.  I was being brave.  I've eaten at the Villa before to great success.  They are by no means Michelin Star chefs, (not that I would have any experience with that...wish!) but they've got some good food.  

Two words:       Not.  Good.

I laid off the mushrooms for awhile.  

A couple weeks ago I braved the mighty mushroom again.  But I left it in my own hands.  I'm the only one I trust.   And if I may be so bold as to say, it was a VERY tasty mushroom sauce.   For the cod I brought home.  (Frozen.  I don't fish).  If anyone's interested you can find the recipe here.  I substituted the vermouth for white wine and it turned out just fine.  More than excellent.  So there.   

So I'm feeling oddly pro-mushroom. 

The parentals have an alarmingly large crop of 'wild' mushrooms growing in their yard.  It seems such a wasted shame.  They look so harmless.  I wish I knew more about mushrooms.  But even if I knew a lot about mushrooms...I still wouldn't be brave enough to harvest and EAT them.  I might die.  Dying is bad.  Besides, I prefer to purchase mushrooms at the store.  It seems oddly safer.  Even though I have no idea where in the world they actually come from.  Or how they grow.  And that I'm trusting in complete strangers to supply me with a FUNGUS.

Here's a sample of the lovely ladies:

And in honor of the mushroom topic...a little re-visit to some days gone by.  I think of this song whenever I handle mushrooms.  Happy times.


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