We know D.C. Get our free newsletter to stay in the know.
It was the perfect weekend to cook those homegrown Portabellas. It was the worst weekend to cook those homegrown Portabellas.
It was perfect because Carrie and I were snowbound in our Takoma Park home, our cars buried in drifts and walls of snowplough-created ice, snow, and slush. (Plus, I did mention our cable/internet was down all weekend?). It was the worst because, well, I refused to play suburban Gladiator just to get my hands on a cartoon of milk, some double-stuff Oreos, and a family-size tube of Ben Gay for the post-shoveling team.
So I had to do what cooks always did before the advent of convenience stores, 24-hour Harris Teeters, and farmers markets. I had to whip up some godforsaken hash from the ingredients on hand.
I cleaned out the freezer (don’t ask, it’s always embarrassing), poked through the pantry, and fridge, and found enough to put together a very simple recipe for those Portabellas.
I cleaned the caps with a brush, sprinkled them with sea salt and pepper, and drizzled a little olive oil on them to make sure they wouldn’t dry out during a brief 7-minute roast. Then I poached some eggs, whipped up an easy lemon/butter/caper sauce, and pour it over the top of this stacked mushroom cap/poached egg. As a final touch, I drizzled a little extra virgin olive oil over the top and cracked some fresh pepper on it.
The final dish was, if I may say, delicious. Carrie then one-upped me the following morning.
She improvised some duxelles mixed with leftover dates, garlic, parsley, and a bottled hot sauce. She then used the mixture as the basis for a sweet-savory omelet that included the duxelles and some Spanish tetilla cheese that Carrie’s sister, Molly, had given us for Christmas.
I wolfed that omelet down like it was a last meal.