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Created by Chef Thomas
Field mushrooms cooked dark and slow in butter with mace and nutmeg, packed into ramekins under clarified butter. A quiet, old-fashioned thing that belongs on a cold evening with hot toast and good company.
October rain on the window. The kind of evening that arrives early and settles in. I brought field mushrooms back from the market on Saturday, big flat ones with gills so dark they were nearly black, and I knew before I'd taken my coat off what I was going to do with them.
Potting is a very old way of keeping things. Meat, fish, cheese. You cook something down, pack it tightly, and seal it under a layer of clarified butter. The Victorians were serious about it. The mushroom version is the quiet one, the only entry in the tradition that doesn't involve an animal, and I think it might be the best of them all. Mushrooms cooked slowly in butter with mace and a grating of nutmeg concentrate into something that tastes far richer and more complex than the sum of its parts. The mace is the thing. Warm, a little floral, old-fashioned in the best sense. Trust your nose when you add it. You'll know when it's enough.
This is the kind of recipe I keep coming back to in the notebook. "Mushrooms. Mace. Tuesday. Raining." It never needs more detail than that. You cook them down until the pan is nearly dry and the kitchen smells like damp earth and warm spice, pack them into ramekins, pour over the golden butter, and put them in the fridge. Tomorrow, or the day after, you take them out, let them come to room temperature, and spread them on hot toast. There are few better feelings than putting something like this in front of someone on a dark evening, something you made two days ago with twenty minutes of real attention and almost no effort at all.
Quantity
500g
cleaned and roughly chopped
Quantity
100g
Quantity
80g
Quantity
1 small
finely chopped
Quantity
1 blade or generous pinch
Quantity
generous grating
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
a squeeze
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| field mushrooms or chestnut mushroomscleaned and roughly chopped | 500g |
| unsalted butter (for cooking) | 100g |
| unsalted butter (for clarifying and sealing) | 80g |
| shallotfinely chopped | 1 small |
| blade mace or ground mace | 1 blade or generous pinch |
| nutmeg | generous grating |
| dry sherry or Madeira | 1 tablespoon |
| lemon juice | a squeeze |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
Melt the 100g of butter in a wide, heavy pan over a medium heat. When it foams, add the shallot and cook gently for a minute or two until it softens and turns translucent. Add the mushrooms, the mace, and a good grating of nutmeg. A pinch of salt. Stir everything through the butter and let it cook. The mushrooms will release a startling amount of liquid. This is what you want. Let it bubble away, stirring now and then, until the pan is almost dry and the mushrooms have gone dark and concentrated and smell of something ancient and earthy. This takes fifteen to twenty minutes. Don't rush it. The flavour is in the reduction.
Add the sherry and let it sizzle away to almost nothing. Squeeze in a little lemon juice. Taste it. The mushrooms should be deeply savoury, warm with spice, with a faint sweetness from the sherry underneath. Adjust the salt. More pepper than you think. Take the pan off the heat and let it cool for a few minutes.
Pulse the mushroom mixture in a food processor until you have a rough, spreadable paste. Not smooth. You want texture, the sense that this was once a mushroom and not a mousse. Alternatively, chop it by hand on a board if you prefer the exercise. Spoon the mixture into ramekins or a single small jar, pressing it down firmly with the back of the spoon to remove any air pockets. Leave about a centimetre of space at the top.
Melt the remaining 80g of butter in a small saucepan over a very low heat. Let it bubble gently. The milk solids will sink to the bottom and the surface will become clear and golden. Carefully pour or spoon the clear butter over the mushrooms, leaving the white sediment behind in the pan. The butter should form a complete seal across the top. Put the ramekins in the fridge and let the butter set firm. This takes an hour or so.
Take the potted mushrooms out of the fridge twenty minutes before you want them. The butter should soften just enough to yield to a knife. Serve with hot toast, the thinnest you can manage, and let people spread it themselves. A few cornichons alongside if you like. Nothing more.
1 serving (about 90g)
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