Saved by a woman in a grey coat with a tartan shopping trolley. Not that I hadn’t noticed the porcini I was about to buy were a bad lot. Even my amateur eyes could see that the worm holes were more craters than pin pricks, that the half-dozen specimens looked like they had been in a scrap. Yet again though, as is also my way in clothes shops and Italian perfumeries, I was trapped in a transaction; somehow indebted to the man and about to spend the best part of 20 euros on some dodgy mushrooms.
The woman’s interception was impressive. Was I making soup? she asked, putting herself between me and the crate. “If so, a few of the coral capped ones and field mushrooms would do the job – just boost them with porcini secchi (dried porcini); even a handful of chestnuts.” At that she put her bag of chestnuts at the top of her trolley and headed to the butcher.
Porcino means something reminiscent of a pig or piglet, perhaps after the bulbous stems, pale with five-o’clock shadow, which is often almost as wide as the chestnut-coloured cap. Their botanical name is Boletus edulis, from the greek bolos, which means lump (they come up like lumps in chestnut, beech and conifer woodlands), and the Latin edulis, edible. Porcini are not just edible but magnificently edible, both their fleshy cap and their stem creamy and succulent, with an almost meat-like texture, while being resolutely vegetal. At this time of year, fresh porcini are the pride of tables, shaved thin and tossed with shards of parmesan, grilled whole, dipped in batter and fried until golden, sautéed with herbs and garlic for grilled bread or tossed with ribbons of pasta.
Porcini are expensive to buy and, because they deteriorate and are prey to insects, hard to choose – especially when you are faced with a wily seller who has no doubt given his best to a local restaurant. Thank goodness for the woman in grey and the dried porcini, which are sold in small clear plastic packets on markets and in shops and supermarkets, usually behind the tills along with pine nuts, triple-packs of Ferrero Rocher, batteries and fancy disposable razors.
Porcini dry well, retaining a remarkable amount of flavour. Some people even suggest their flavour is improved by dehydrating them, their musky fragrance concentrated when slices are dried to slim leather-like pieces. The slices need to be soaked back to softness and, as they they do, they produce a broth. Oretta Zanini De Vita calls a handful of soaked porcini mushrooms and some of the broth a “kitchen workhorse”, giving flavour and substance, a turbo charge for soups, stews or any dish using cultivated mushrooms that needs a helping hand. Today’s is one such recipe, inspired by the Calabrian food writer and teacher Rosetta Constantino. I made it three times last week and it has instantly joined my small army of regulars and almost usurped Rowley Leigh’s potato and porcini bake as a favourite use of a small packet of porcini.
The hope for every recipe is that the group of ingredients will come together and result in something good to eat. This recipe is just that, with bells on; one in which the ingredients – just seven if you include salt – feel particularly cooperative. It’s the recipe equivalent of a friendly dance off where everyone has a moment in the centre of the circle doing their thing, to approving cheers, before everyone joins in for the finale panful.
First soak the dried porcini back to life, and in the process transform the water into a well-flavoured and bosky stock the colour of tea. This stock is then used to cook and flavour the potatoes, giving starchy body to the soup – which you can encourage with a few mashes. The mushrooms are fried in another pan in olive oil, along with their kindred spirits garlic and thyme, until dark and soft and producing some rather delicious juices. To finish, you mix the two pans together, season and let everything bubble and give off a scent as inviting as a sofa in front of a fire after a woodland walk. You decide if you want to puree some or all of the soup, which turns it from brothy brown to raincoat beige. Try to leave a portion for the next day, reheating with a handful of small pasta maybe – it is even better.
Mushroom and potato soup
When buying dried porcini look for the packet with the largest, palest pieces. You could of course make this with fresh porcini, in which case use light stock to simmer the potatoes.
Serves 4
25g dried porcini, soaked then chopped
750g potatoes
350g mushrooms
5 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
A small sprig of thyme
Salt and pepper
1 Put the porcini in bowl, cover with 500ml warm water and leave to sit for 20 minutes, then chop. Peel and dice the potato into 1cm cubes. Wipe the mushrooms clean with a damp cloth and pull the stems from the caps, then chop both stems and caps into (approx) 1cm dice.
2 Lift the soaked porcini from their soaking liquid and set aside. Strain the soaking liquid into a heavy-based soup pan and add another 500ml of water, a pinch of salt and the potatoes. Bring to the boil and then reduce to a simmer for 15 minutes or until the potatoes are tender.
3 Meanwhile, in a frying pan over a medium-low heat, gently fry the garlic in the olive oil until fragrant. Add the mushrooms, thyme and a pinch of salt and fry/sweat until the mushrooms are tender. Add the porcini and cook for a few minutes more.
4 If you want, use a masher to break up some of the potatoes in the pan for texture. Add the mushrooms and any juices to the pan, also a grind of black pepper, and simmer for another 5 minutes.
5 Check for seasoning. If you want a creamier texture, remove some of the soup, blend it and return to the pan. Serve, with croutons if you wish.
The woman’s interception was impressive. Was I making soup? she asked, putting herself between me and the crate. “If so, a few of the coral capped ones and field mushrooms would do the job – just boost them with porcini secchi (dried porcini); even a handful of chestnuts.” At that she put her bag of chestnuts at the top of her trolley and headed to the butcher.
Porcino means something reminiscent of a pig or piglet, perhaps after the bulbous stems, pale with five-o’clock shadow, which is often almost as wide as the chestnut-coloured cap. Their botanical name is Boletus edulis, from the greek bolos, which means lump (they come up like lumps in chestnut, beech and conifer woodlands), and the Latin edulis, edible. Porcini are not just edible but magnificently edible, both their fleshy cap and their stem creamy and succulent, with an almost meat-like texture, while being resolutely vegetal. At this time of year, fresh porcini are the pride of tables, shaved thin and tossed with shards of parmesan, grilled whole, dipped in batter and fried until golden, sautéed with herbs and garlic for grilled bread or tossed with ribbons of pasta.
Porcini are expensive to buy and, because they deteriorate and are prey to insects, hard to choose – especially when you are faced with a wily seller who has no doubt given his best to a local restaurant. Thank goodness for the woman in grey and the dried porcini, which are sold in small clear plastic packets on markets and in shops and supermarkets, usually behind the tills along with pine nuts, triple-packs of Ferrero Rocher, batteries and fancy disposable razors.
Porcini dry well, retaining a remarkable amount of flavour. Some people even suggest their flavour is improved by dehydrating them, their musky fragrance concentrated when slices are dried to slim leather-like pieces. The slices need to be soaked back to softness and, as they they do, they produce a broth. Oretta Zanini De Vita calls a handful of soaked porcini mushrooms and some of the broth a “kitchen workhorse”, giving flavour and substance, a turbo charge for soups, stews or any dish using cultivated mushrooms that needs a helping hand. Today’s is one such recipe, inspired by the Calabrian food writer and teacher Rosetta Constantino. I made it three times last week and it has instantly joined my small army of regulars and almost usurped Rowley Leigh’s potato and porcini bake as a favourite use of a small packet of porcini.
The hope for every recipe is that the group of ingredients will come together and result in something good to eat. This recipe is just that, with bells on; one in which the ingredients – just seven if you include salt – feel particularly cooperative. It’s the recipe equivalent of a friendly dance off where everyone has a moment in the centre of the circle doing their thing, to approving cheers, before everyone joins in for the finale panful.
First soak the dried porcini back to life, and in the process transform the water into a well-flavoured and bosky stock the colour of tea. This stock is then used to cook and flavour the potatoes, giving starchy body to the soup – which you can encourage with a few mashes. The mushrooms are fried in another pan in olive oil, along with their kindred spirits garlic and thyme, until dark and soft and producing some rather delicious juices. To finish, you mix the two pans together, season and let everything bubble and give off a scent as inviting as a sofa in front of a fire after a woodland walk. You decide if you want to puree some or all of the soup, which turns it from brothy brown to raincoat beige. Try to leave a portion for the next day, reheating with a handful of small pasta maybe – it is even better.
Mushroom and potato soup
When buying dried porcini look for the packet with the largest, palest pieces. You could of course make this with fresh porcini, in which case use light stock to simmer the potatoes.
Serves 4
25g dried porcini, soaked then chopped
750g potatoes
350g mushrooms
5 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
A small sprig of thyme
Salt and pepper
1 Put the porcini in bowl, cover with 500ml warm water and leave to sit for 20 minutes, then chop. Peel and dice the potato into 1cm cubes. Wipe the mushrooms clean with a damp cloth and pull the stems from the caps, then chop both stems and caps into (approx) 1cm dice.
2 Lift the soaked porcini from their soaking liquid and set aside. Strain the soaking liquid into a heavy-based soup pan and add another 500ml of water, a pinch of salt and the potatoes. Bring to the boil and then reduce to a simmer for 15 minutes or until the potatoes are tender.
3 Meanwhile, in a frying pan over a medium-low heat, gently fry the garlic in the olive oil until fragrant. Add the mushrooms, thyme and a pinch of salt and fry/sweat until the mushrooms are tender. Add the porcini and cook for a few minutes more.
4 If you want, use a masher to break up some of the potatoes in the pan for texture. Add the mushrooms and any juices to the pan, also a grind of black pepper, and simmer for another 5 minutes.
5 Check for seasoning. If you want a creamier texture, remove some of the soup, blend it and return to the pan. Serve, with croutons if you wish.
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