My family has a tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation.  I’m sure many other families have it as well, but I like to think it’s unique to us.  And that tradition is that we make an absolute shit-ton of food for family gatherings, and then act like it’s everybody else’s fault that they didn’t eat enough food to cover up the fact that:

a) we have no idea how to correctly predict the amount of food an averagely overweight person might consume, and

b) we were unable to find the Duggar-sized homeless family that we had hoped to bring so we could make ourselves feel better about making a 9×13 dish of spinach and artichoke dip for four people.

(To be fair, I only witnessed it from my great-grandmother on down, but I’m willing to assume this went back way further.  I can see my ancestors in 13th century Hungary roasting twenty pounds of mutton and complaining about how the Magna Carta was crippling the economy, while wondering what was wrong with everyone because there were thirteen loaves of Challah left over and those should clearly have been consumed by six people.)

(Yes, I know the Magna Carta was in England, not Hungary, shut up you laughed and you know it.)

(Yes, the spinach dip thing actually happened.)

The point of this is, despite us having turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, a baked brie wheel, and bite-size shrimp and grits appetizers, I somehow felt like we might need a little something extra.  So I went back to one of my old favorites, sautéed mushrooms.

This recipe comes from Michael Chiarello’s Casual Cooking.  I’ve made a bunch of recipes from his cookbooks, and have never had one that was worse than just really, really good.

Now, the thing is, I got kinda lazy with this one, because I’d been in the kitchen for most of the previous two days (and one of them was with my mom, so really it felt more like 19 days).  And I didn’t feel like putting in a few hours of work on Thanksgiving Day, so I took some shortcuts.

The mushrooms came out pretty well, and were far less work than the original recipe.  I’m going to post the recipe I used, and then below it I will note how I deviated from the original.

I’m not going to kid you, the original recipe will taste better than the one I am giving you.  It will also take forever to make (if your family starts watching the John Hughes Anthology box set when you begin prep, you’ll finish cooking around the midpoint of Uncle Buck), and you will have to actively work it the entire time.  The recipe I give you will be really good, and will allow you to get smashed on the remainder of whatever white wine you choose to use while you wait for the mushrooms to finish roasting.

CAN I MAKE A MESS WITH THIS RECIPE?

Well the author himself is a pretty big mess, but that’s another story.  If you make them my way, you’ll make some mess; if you make it from the original recipe, then yeah, it’s going to get pretty sloppy.

YOU’RE BURYING THE LEDE, WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH MICHAEL CHIARELLO?

Ok, so the good chef has a brief history of bad behavior.  And by brief I mean sexual harassment suits, DUI, and possession of a controlled substance (allegedly meth).

THAT’S PRETTY COOL!  THE RECIPE, HOW DO I MAKE A MESS OF THIS?

Peeling garlic is messy because the paper skin sticks to everything.  The sauce spatters a bit, so you will have to clean up a bit after that.  If you make it the long way, then the oil you sauté the mushrooms in will get everywhere.

 

Bread was supposed to be this mysterious thing for so long.  You had to pray that the little yeast balls are still alive, get the water just hot enough to maximize their growth without being so hot that it kills them all, wait for them to belch their magical gases so the dough can rise, punch it down and knead it for 30 minutes, do that seven or eight times, shape it into a loaf or whatever, and hope that you didn’t knead out so much air that it comes out looking like matzo.

Then a few years ago, someone said, nah, fuck that, just dump it all in a bowl and stir it a few times, and blammo, bread.

And it’s pretty good bread too!  I mean, you couldn’t sell it in a bakery, but you could bring it to a party and people would think you worked all day on it, when in reality you just dumped a few ingredients into a bowl and then binge-watched Stranger Things.

The water temperature thing is a big deal too.  You don’t have to get the water to a certain temperature, room temperature is just fine.  A while back, I tried to impress my lady and make some cinnamon rolls, and I think the milk was too hot, because the dough didn’t rise a bit.  And they tasted fine, but they looked like these sad little people (thanks PC police!) cinnamon rolls, and she patted me on the head as if to say “aww, that was a nice try, I still love you despite your failings”.

Ok, that was quite the tangent.  Let’s get to the important stuff.

CAN I MAKE A MESS WITH THIS RECIPE? 

Yes, there’s definitely room to make a mess.

YOU SOUND VERY NON-COMMITAL, ARE YOU SURE THIS IS WORTH MAKING?

Anything with flour has the potential to make a mess.  It’ll get everywhere if you’re not careful, and you’ll be cleaning it up for years.  And the dough is sticky enough that your hands are going to get pretty messy when you form it into a ball.

WAIT, I THOUGHT YOU SAID THERE WAS NO KNEADING INVOLVED?

You’re not kneading, but you do have to pull it out of the mixing bowl and then form it into a ball using your fingers.  Hope that’s not too much to ask.

OK, I’M DOWN WITH THAT.

Good, because I’m writing this no matter what.

The recipe calls for instant yeast, I used active dry yeast, which is pretty much interchangeable for this recipe – if you’ve got either in those little yellow packets laying around, that should work fine.  You’ll have plenty left over for multiple loaves.