Mushroom Bourguignon

The scene of the solo kitchen is a strange one.  Sometimes lonely. Sometimes a bit eccentric. When cooking for just myself, just me, only me, my creations are less gastronomic and more businesslike. I am hungry – what will make that go away?

A few crackers with peanut butter becomes a meal. Or some vegetables, haphazardly sauteed and served atop an egg or slice of tofu. It’s nothing spectacular and certainly nothing to blog about.

But when my roommate is around, or company becomes part of the equation, I will go to great lengths. I’ve spent up to six hours preparing a special meal to serve to people I love. Everything is colorful. The plates are arranged nicely. I’m an adventurer then, perfectly willing to pick out an unknown cookbook, turn to a page and do what it says.

But why is this so? Don’t I deserve the same care and dedication that I put into other people? Don’t we deserve to serve ourselves something attractive and delicious and special?

One of my new favorite books addresses this idea. Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant is a collection of 26 stories about cooking, dining and feeding ourselves. It’s about what we eat when we think no one else is looking. The stories are sometimes heartwarming, sometimes sad, and entirely moving and entertaining. An excerpt from the title piece:

“Dinner alone is one of life’s pleasures. Certainly cooking for oneself reveals man at his weirdest. People lie when you ask them what they eat when they are alone. A salad, they tell you. But when you persist, they confess to peanut butter and bacon sandwiches deep fried and eaten with hot sauce, or spaghetti with butter and grape jam.” —Laurie Colwin

Before my trip to Paris,  I decided to take an evening and make the effort. Enough with foraging in the cabinets! Enough!

This Julia-Child-inspired vegetarian* dinner was worth an hour or so of prep, simmering, stirring, until it came out just right. Intoxicating flavors and smells. So you there – make this. Take the evening and make yourself a hearty and luxurious plate, infused with good wine and local produce. Tuck in and feel good. You deserve it.

Mushroom Bourguignon

Recipe from Smitten Kitchen, slightly adapted to serve one special lady (with leftovers)

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon butter, softened
150 grams (about 1/2 cups) button mushrooms, in 1/4-inch slices
1/2 carrot, finely diced
1/2 small yellow onion, finely diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup merlot or your favorite full-bodied red wine
1 cups vegetable broth
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (1/2 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2 spring onions, chopped
Egg noodles, for serving

Directions:

Heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a heavy sauce pan over high heat. Sear the mushrooms until they begin to darken, but not yet release any liquid — about three or four minutes. Remove from pan.

Lower the flame to medium and add the rest of the oil. Toss the carrots, yellow onion, thyme into the pan and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onions are lightly browned. Season with fresh salt and pepper. Add the garlic and cook for just one more minute.

Add the wine to the pot, scraping any stuck bits off the bottom, then turn the heat all the way up and reduce it by half. Stir in the tomato paste and the broth. Return the mushrooms with any juices that have collected. Once the liquid has boiled, reduce the temperature and simmer for twenty minutes, until mushrooms are tender. Add the spring onions and simmer for five minutes more.

Combine butter and the flour with a fork until combined; stir it into the stew. Lower the heat and simmer for 10 more minutes. If the sauce is too thin, boil it down to reduce to the right consistency. Season to taste.

To serve, spoon the stew over a bowl of egg noodles, dollop with sour cream (optional) and sprinkle with chives or parsley.

*P.S. Did I mention that this lovely vegetarian dish can also be made vegan with a snap of your darling little fingers? Substitute a vegan pasta and switch the butter for margarine. Or skip the butter-flour part and just use flour to thicken. Will require a bit more vigorous stirring.