Taste Memories

Creamy Roast Mushroom and Garlic Soup with Thyme

Have you ever had the experience of craving a food that you don't actually like? It has happened to me a lot recently, first with black beans, then with brussel sprouts, and most recently with mushrooms. Never one to resist a craving (I like to think that our bodies know what they need, if only we would listen), I succumbed promptly, and trotted off obediently to Wholefoods to stock up on portabellos and dried porcini mushrooms. I decided to make a soup with them, to christen my shiny new Cuisinart stick blender (thank you, Daniel Santa) and my delightful new Polish pottery bowls (thank you, Mum and Dad Santa). Aren't they adorable?

And you know what? The soup I threw together was ridiculously good, and exactly what I wanted. I've always been scornful of those who bizarrely insist that mushrooms are meaty (how could that be possible?), but they sure are savory, and earthy, and full of umami punch. The addition of thyme manages both to elevate and ground this soup in a way that's difficult to describe, but easy to appreciate.

This was so good, in fact, that I have devoured the entire batch of soup singlehandedly this week (silly Daniel thinks creamy soups are the pits). But if you were to ask me, I'd still deny liking mushrooms. As well as being stubborn, naturally.

 

Ingredients:

kosher salt

olive oil

1 oz dried porcini

6 large portobello mushrooms, destalked and cleaned with a damp cloth

4 garlic cloves

1 tbsp unsalted butter

1 large onion, diced

1 tbsp fresh thyme, taken off the stalk

3 cups vegetable stock

½ cup sour cream (I used light)

½ cup half and half

 

Method:

Preheat the oven to 400˚F.

Lightly oil a baking sheet, and pop the mushrooms and garlic on it. Drizzle them with a little olive oil and sprinkle them with a little kosher salt.

Roast the mushrooms and garlic for about 50 minutes, or until they are both nice and soft.

Meanwhile, soak the porcini in 2 cups of boiling water for about 30 minutes.

Place a large pot over medium heat, and add the butter.

Sauté the onion with another pinch of kosher salt until it is soft and golden (about 5 minutes), adding the thyme during the last minute.

Add the portobellos, porcini and their soaking liquid, as well as the stock, sour cream, and half and half. Blend thoroughly with a stick blender or a standing blender.

Reheat gently, and serve the soup warm, perhaps with an additional dollop of sour cream and a few sprigs of thyme.

 

Serves 4 – 6.

Dark Days, Enlivened

Although I was pretty desperate to see my family during the Australian leg of our recent vacation, I was sort of dreading the shift in seasons that comes with travelling halfway around the world. I love the snow and the cold, and I despise the heat that I knew would beset Melbourne in December. It wasn't until I was back in Melbourne, devouring a mango with flesh that cut like butter, that I realized how much I missed the summer, if only for its produce. Upon returning to Boston, I subsequently found myself yearning for the freshness, acidity, and tang of the food I'd eaten whilst on holiday. All of a sudden, being doomed to months of woolly pears and yams and kale just did not seem fair. (The woolly outfits, I don't mind).

What should come to my rescue but Myer lemons? Some speculate that these big, glossy yellow beauties are a cross between regular lemons and oranges, but that description, while plausible, doesn't even come close to capturing their charm. Myer lemons are incredibly fragrant, and their zest livens up too many dishes to name. They are sour but not bitter, and with a good dose of sweetness too (so you can do as I do, and eat them raw). Myer lemons are one of my favorite aspects of the American winter, just as concord grapes are one of the best parts of the New England Fall.

So much do I love Myer lemons that, upon spotting them at Wholefoods a few days ago, I actually exclaimed in delight. But I nearly didn't succeed in procuring any. You see, being Australian, I drop my 'r's, so words like 'myer' tend to come out of my mouth as 'myaahh.' In consequence, when I instructed Daniel to go grab me a bag of Myer lemons, he came back empty-handed, reporting that there was only a different kind of lemon available. The misunderstanding was quickly rectified, but it just goes to show the mayhem that can result when an interaccent couple shop for groceries, without a translator in tow.

Anyway, I've been using my Myer lemon stash in just about everything I've cooked since – the juice has been utilized to perk up the aforementioned sautéed kale (which I really do love, for all that) and brown butter brussel sprouts (so good, it's almost criminal that some people won't try them). The zest has come in handy for salad dressings and pasta dishes. But the best thing I've made with them is this champagne Myer lemon aioli. To amp up the Myer lemon flavor, I used my new favorite lemon-flavored oils and vinegars to make it (I never thought I'd hold anything so trendy as a flavored oil in such high esteem, but these are really worth a try). If you don't have these, however, this aioli will still be delicious made with regular extra virgin olive oil and champagne vinegar. I'd serve this aioli alongside pretty much any seafood dish, and it would also go well with chicken, simple steamed vegetables, or even with eggs. Its applications, in short, are innumerable. I'd wager that, with a nice little bowl of this in your icebox, your uncontrollable longing for Spring may well wane.

Champagne lemon aioli, served alongside chipotle-dusted shrimp, and a pared-down version of this salad, made with Myer lemon zest (naturally).

 

Champagne Myer Lemon Aioli

Ingredients:

1 egg yolk

1 tsp good dijon mustard

A pinch of good salt

¾ cup safflower oil

¼ cup good extra virgin olive oil (I used this one)

2-3 tbsps champagne vinegar (I used this one)

The juice of 1 Myer lemon

2-3 cloves of roasted garlic, ground to a paste (I roast my garlic for 3 hours at 225˚F for particularly mellow results, but you can also get away with less time at higher temperatures)

 

Method:

Whisk the egg yolk, mustard, and salt together in a large, heavy bowl.

   

Add the combined oils to the yolk/mustard mixture in tiny drips, whisking constantly. After a short while, you'll see the mixture start to thicken up to the consistency of heavy cream – at this point, it wants to be mayonnaise.

   

Now add the oil in a steady stream, whisking constantly, until it's all used up.

   

Stir in the remaining ingredients, proceeding slowly, and adjust for seasoning and acidity and garlickiness (if I may).

Our Vacation, in Pictures

Sorry for my absence! Will you forgive me if I showed you where I've been and what I've been doing?

I had forgotten how beautiful the morning light in Australia is. This shot was taken in the Cottlesbridge / Kangaroo Ground area, northeast of Melbourne, where I grew up (and where my parents still live).

Dinner, our first night in Australia, courtesy of my Mother's spectacular welcome hamper: local arugula, smoked trout, orange, and radish salad, with an amazing balsamic vinaigrette.

My homeland, literally.

Spot the kangas!

Apollo Bay, my family's holiday destination of choice for over twenty years.

Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean.

Spot the transition. Our next destination was Girdwood, Alaska (Daniel's Mom's town).

The fact that my eyelashes froze in the -15˚F (-25˚C) weather should distract you from the fact that my eyebrows need some serious attention.Ahem.

Daniel, in contemplative mode.

Moooooooose.

I could hardly believe how beautiful it was.

Haunting, almost.

Quite magical.

And did I mention it was cold?

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.