Truffle Butter Grilled Cheese with Fontina and Duxelle

 There’s little in life more comforting than a grilled cheese sandwich.  We can appreciate the simplicity of a nice classic grilled cheese, served alongside a steaming hot bowl of tomato soup, as much as anyone. But, we also love to kick things up a notch and play around with new flavor combinations.

This grilled cheese, which we created in celebration of Grilled Cheese Month, was the product of some of that creative experimentation. As we shuffled through the freezer last weekend, we came upon a stash of truffle butter we’d whipped together last fall when black truffles went on sale at a local gourmet grocer (and yes, it's the same butter we used for that amazing truffle butter popcorn... So. Good.). When we opened the fridge, we noticed that we also happened to have a small bowl of mushroom duxelle in the refrigerator, left over from a recipe we’d made the weekend before.  


Peef was hungry for grilled cheese.  
And that’s when inspiration hit. 

Fortunately for us, something magic happens when you combine the earthy flavors of truffle butter and a simple mushroom duxelle with the creamy nuttiness of melted fontina.  I swear there was singing. And sunshine. And… well, you get the point.  This was the sort of sandwich that’s right up our aisle. A little bit fancy, but not too fussy. And best of all, it was delicious.

Serve these mini grilled cheese sandwiches to friends at your next cocktail party. Or make them for yourself and take the time to relish one of life’s little indulgences.

Truffle Butter Grilled Cheese with Fontina and Duxelle


You can find this recipe, along with plenty of other mouthwatering dishes, on GoBoldWithButter.com  Seriously -- you should check it out.  So. Much. Good. Food. 

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Roasted Porcini Chicken: They Call Me Mimi

Lo: How about Porcini chicken for dinner tonight?
Peef: You want to make a Puccini chicken?
Lo: NO -- PORCINI chicken.
Peef: Oh, ok. Can we call the chicken Mimi?
Lo: What?! Um... no.  Besides, I don't like to name my food, remember?
Peef: Oh, yeah.

(After some time)

Peef: Is it ok if I call her Mimi?
Lo: Do what you must, just keep it to yourself.
Peef (Out loud): Come here, little Mimi, let me get my hands under your skin.
Lo (now disgusted): PEEF! Enough!

This scenerio may or may not have actually taken place in the Burp! kitchen.  Nonetheless, we like the idea of a little opera singing chicken named Mimi.

For those completely lacking in knowlege of opera trivia, Puccini (a pretty famous opera composer) just happened to have a little opera by the name of La Boheme.  It wasn't exactly about a chicken. But, well, you'll forgive us for our imagination, won't you?

The fact is, there is a character in La Boheme whose name is Mimi... well, Lucia, but people call her Mimi. And Mimi is just lovely (much like this chicken recipe).

If you're in the mood for a bit of culture while we're cooking, here's a snippet of the wonderful and talented Maria Callas singing Mi Chiamano Mimi.

 Italian not so good?
Well,  that's not a problem. The gist is that Mimi just met her neighbor, Rodolfo, who happens to be a writer. They are attracted to each other and she sings him this aria which mentions something about living alone and making these beautiful fake roses.  They don't smell pretty, but she likes them, and she adores April kisses and, conveniently, she also likes poetry. By the end of her aria, Mimi & Rodolfo end up being quite enamored of one another.

And that's your music lesson for the day. And it serves a dual purpose because you can totally picture Peef as Rodolfo -- thinking his chicken named Mimi is pretty innocent and cute, right?

The fact is, we love a good roasted chicken. This one happens to be full of flavor -- thanks to the simple magic of something called "porcini dust," which just happens to be dried porcini mushrooms ground into a fine powder with a coffee grinder.

The porcini powder is mixed with fresh garlic, white wine, salt, and a bit of olive oil, and then spread between the skin and the meat of the chicken. 

Earthy and garlicky, this chicken is completely & amazingly delicious.  And, although it makes wonderful use of the rich, deep flavor of porcini mushrooms, it does so judiciously, so it won't completely break the bank.

The recipe gets even better when you choose to cook the chicken in the same pan with halved new potatoes and quartered turnips.  The vegetables caramelize nicely and they absorb plenty of the earthy flavor from the porcini mushrooms, along with that deliciously savory chicken flavor.

Perfect for company.  Just pair with a green salad and a bit of crusty bread.

Porcini Roasted Chicken


©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

The Morel Files: Manicotti with Mushroom Ragu

... if you were wondering what we did with the two pounds of morels we won from Marx Foods (and you might be, because we've been neglectful in our blogging on that topic), I'm pleased to tell you that we savored every last bit of them.
There was a pizza topped with morels and manchego, a steak with a side of sauteed morels, and lovely homemade pasta with morel cream sauce. And then, there was the manicotti.

I should begin by telling you that Peef has fond memories of manicotti. It was the meal he requested for his birthday every year during his childhood. It was the meal that allowed me to feed him tofu for the first time (tofu ricotta is really fantastic, for those of you who've never tried it). And it's been an occasional staple at our house for years. Now, we love classic Italian dishes as much as anyone. But, we also love giving beloved recipes a bit of a spin. Needless to say, we'd never made manicotti like this. Until now.

It all started, of course, with a nice pile of those morel mushrooms. LOVE those 'shrooms. Nutty and slightly smokey, I'm convinced that a morel makes everything better. But, that doesn't mean that there's not a dark side to these friendly fungi. There's ALWAYS a dark side.
Despite my love affair with morels, I do get a bit grossed out by the creatures that live within them. So, I'm in the camp of people who like to soak the morels in a bit of salted water before slicing and dicing them. You still have to see the little beasties that float out of the mushrooms, but it's easy enough to just pour them off the top of the water and get on with your life. Oh, yes, and -- as Peef is kind enough to remind me -- there's a lot less screaming that takes place when I don't come across creepy crawlies while slicing my mushrooms.

We also picked up a package of dried shiitakes -- which we reconstituted in hot water while the morels were soaking. And we reserved that precious mushroom "stock".
We chopped the shiitakes nicely, and added them to a bowl of fresh ricotta cheese.
In a large saute pan, we sauteed about 1/2 pound of morels along with another 1/2 pound of creminis, a Vidalia onion, some garlic, and a tablespoon or two of freshly chopped rosemary. We added the mushroom "stock" and reduced it by about half. When the mushroom stock was reduced, we added a 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes and allowed the sauce to simmer for 15-20 more minutes.In the meantime, we cooked up our pasta and got to work on the filling. To the ricotta mixture containing the shiitake mushrooms, we added a generous handful of Parmesan, Romano, and some Asiago cheese.
Once the pasta was ready, and the filling was thoroughly mixed, we poured a bit of the mushroom ragu into the bottom of a large ceramic baking dish and got to work filling the manicotti.

An easy way to fill manicotti shells is to "pipe" the cheese mixture into the pasta shells. To do this, put mixture into a heavy-duty plastic food storage bag. Seal it and cut off a 1-2 inch opening in one corner of the bag. Then gently squeeze the bag to fill the pasta with the cheese mixture.

Of course, I opted for a more challenging route... and filled the manicotti shells with a small spoon.
I managed to do a rather decent job, but I'd still recommend the plastic bag approach -- which WILL take years off of your life.
Lay the filled manicotti onto mushroom sauce in the pan... and keep on going until all of the manicotti are filled.
Then cover everything with the remaining mushroom sauce...
... and a generous sprinkling of cheese (more of that Parmesan, Romano, Asiago mixture does just wonderfully).
Cover the manicotti pan with aluminum foil and bake at 350ºF for about 30 minutes. At that point, remove the foil and bake for another 10-15 minutes (until the cheese is lightly browned).
We adored this "mushroom lover's" manicotti. The filling was creamy and cheesy and the shiitakes added some depth and tied it in nicely with the mushrom ragu. The ragu was nutty and earthy. The subtle pine-like flavor of the rosemary balanced the sweetness of the tomato sauce and brought out the best in the savory flavor of the mushrooms. And then there was the cheese... ah, the cheese!
The mushroom ragu was fantastic for the manicotti, but it would also be great served with a bit of roasted lamb or baked cod. It would make a great sauce served over a simple bowl pasta -- or baked into a cheesy pan of ziti.

If you're interested in the stats, check out the recipe.
Mushroom Ragu with Morels


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Spinach Stuffed Portabella Mushroom Burgers

We certainly eat our share of burgers around here during the summer months -- beef burgers, bison burgers, turkey burgers... you name the burger, and we eat it. But, believe it or not, one of our favorite burgers is actually not made of ground meat. It's made of mushroom. Stuffed mushroom.

Portabella burgers are nothing new. People have been grilling up savory mushroom burgers for years. People have also been stuffing mushrooms for a very long time. And stuffed mushrooms aren't exactly original either. They usually appear as part of an appetizer menu. But, if you ask us, they also make a very fine burger.

So, get out your charcoal grill, and give these a try.

First, take a few nice portabella mushroom caps and give them a good 20 minutes to marinate. Our favorite marinade is comprised of a few tablespoons of good quality balsamic vinegar, some red wine, a bit of tomato juice (spicy is nice), a few teaspoons of Dijon mustard, and a tablespoon (or so) cajun seasoning. You can also use your favorite Italian (or other spice) blend. We like to remove the gills from our ports before marinating; not only does this preserve the color of the mushroom, but it also keeps the 'shrooms from getting too soggy during the marination.
While the mushrooms are getting their marinade on, gather up a few cloves of garlic and a nice pile of fresh spinach leaves.
Saute the chopped spinach and minced garlic in a bit of olive oil, and then toss with a liberal handful of breadcrumbs (we make our own, but you can also purchase dried breadcrumbs in the supermarket).
When your filling is ready, retrieve your portabella mushroom caps and take them out to your preheated grill. Place the mushrooms cap-side-up on the grill, and allow to cook for about 5 minutes, or until the caps are nicely browned.Flip the mushroom caps over, fill with the spinach filling, and grill for another 3-4 minutes -- until they're browned on the other side and the filling is heated through.
Now, if you're like us, you'll agree that any burger is better with a bit of cheese. You can add a bit of feta cheese to the top of your burger for a Greek-inspired burger... a bit of bleu if you're feeling like a steakhouse burger. Or you can do as we did, and cover your port burgers with a slice of Swiss or cheddar cheese.
Cover the grill and allow the cheese to melt. When everything is lovely and melty, remove your portabella burger from the grill and place on a nice crusty bun. We grilled our sprouted grain buns over the fire for a moment or two to give them a bit of crusty appeal.
These burgers are juicy enough that they don't even need that spot of ketchup you're just dying to add to the mix.

Spinach Stuffed Portabella Mushroom Burgers



©BURP! Where Food Happens

Mushroom Tofu Stroganoff

Every dish has a story, or so it seems.
Legend has it that stroganoff was invented for a culinary competition held in Saint Petersburg during 1890's. An inventive chef -- who happened to be employed as a cook for the very rich, very famous Count Pavel Alexandrovich Stroganov-- combined the classic flavors of beef, mushrooms and sour cream, and took home the first prize.

Count Stroganov would probably be appalled at our liberal adaptation of this recipe for less carnivorous tastes. But, let's ignore that. Shall we? This recipe is just as delicious as the original... with quite a bit less saturated fat. It's a perfect addition to add to your repertoire of meatless meals. It can be easily thrown together on a weeknight. AND, if you'd prefer a vegan option, this recipe can be easily adapted.

You should begin with the loveliest mushrooms you can find. These are the backbone of the vegetarian version of this dish. So, choose wisely. I like the meaty flavor of baby portabella/cremini mushrooms. For a fancier, more company-worthy dish, try a melange of wild mushrooms. You won't be sorry.
You'll also want to pick up a package of the firmest tofu you can find. I recommend a nigari-style (or baked) organic tofu, which will give you the firmest texture and best flavor. Once you've pulled the tofu out of its package, you'll want to drain it, slice it, and press it to remove as much water as possible. I like to wrap mine in layers of flour sack towels and place it under a few ceramic plates for 15-20 minutes.
When the tofu has been adequately drained, you'll want to dice it into cubes. I like mine to be bite-sized so that they're easy to manage in the frying pan.
Now heat up a bit of your butter or oil, and fry the tofu. You'll want to get the cubes brown on all sides, which means cooking them over a fairly high heat (and being a bit patient... good things take time). When you take these out of the pan to drain, you'll want to snitch one or two for nibbling. These make a fantastic snack, especially when paired with a dipping sauce for a bit of flavor (try bbq sauce... or a bit of wasabi mayo). Don't eat too many, of course, or you'll be too full for dinner... and you won't have any tofu for the stroganoff!!
After prepping the tofu, you'll work on sauteeing up some onions and garlic. You'll caramelize all of those delicious mushrooms, adding layers of delicious flavor to the finished dish. And then you'll add dill, a pinch of cayenne pepper, some shoyu soy sauce, and the fried tofu. Stir well to combine, cover, and set the whole, delicious mess aside until your pasta is cooked.

When your pasta is ready, add your sour cream. Stir well, and toss with the pasta.
When everything comes together, you'll have a hearty, heady dish redolent with mushrooms, dill, onion, and garlic. If you've done your job, your tofu will be firm and toothy, your caramelized mushrooms will be rich and meaty, and your kitchen will smell as if you spent the whole day simmering up something wonderful.
Seriously, folks, my mouth is watering just thinking about this.
I'm pretty sure you'll want to try it out for yourselves.

Mushroom Tofu Stroganoff



©BURP! Where Food Happens

Winter Comfort: Black Bean Chili with Mushrooms

It was four winters ago now that I discovered this fantastic chili recipe. I remember it well. I was sorting through cooking magazines on a Saturday afternoon when I came upon a copy of the new Eating Well. A long-time fan of the magazine, I was bummed out when they ceased publication in 1999 -- and equally thrilled when they revived the magazine in 2002. Although the new publication turned out to be a far cry from the original, I still enjoyed the intelligent articles and occasionally found a recipe that gave me inspiration.

Glancing through the recipes, I saw black bean mushroom chili... and I was intrigued enough to give the ingredient list a peek. Cardamom & mustard seeds... interesting. Tomatillos... nice. At the time, the recipe was a bit of a stretch for us; but, we were adventurous sorts. And it seemed to give us another option for using up all that quick roasted tomatillo sauce in the freezer.

I'm actually NOT a big fan of the crockpot, but I'm a huge fan of frying spices. So, when I saw that the instructions called for a nice singe on the mustard seeds, I was hopelessly hooked.
The first indication that the recipe would be a winner was the smell of the house when we walked in after a long day's work and found the chili bubbling away. Rich, savory... meaty even.
Spooning the soup into bowls, we noted that the color was fabulous. The beans were creamy and flavorful. And that cardamom? Well, it disappeared seamlessly into the dish, imparting intrigue to a soup that might otherwise have fallen a bit flat.
It's gotten to be such a staple around our house that I almost don't need a recipe. In fact, we've departed so far from the original in this case that I actually sat down the other night and typed out the entire process.
Try it for yourself!
Black Bean Chili with Mushrooms


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Roasted Chestnut and Porcini Soup

I didn't expect to find locally grown chestnuts in our local market the weekend before Thanksgiving. But, when I found them, I couldn't resist buying up a nice handful. I wasn't sure exactly what I'd do with them at first. But, when I ran across this recipe, which I'd clipped out of an old Bon Appetit magazine, I knew it would be the perfect starter for our Thanksgiving dinner.

We'd never roasted chestnuts before, but we figured that now was as good of a time as any to figure it out. We didn't have an "open fire" lying around, so we opted for a more modest method -- roasting the nuts in a cast iron pan. It worked out quite well, if you ask me. And I'd recommend it, if you've ever got yourself a few cups of chestnuts and a 1/2 hour's time. If you're interested, you can read about our technique here.
When the chestnuts were done roasting, they needed to be peeled. A bit labor-intensive, maybe... but totally worth it in my guesstimation. I am all about enduring a bit of pain for the sake of good, honest food, though. So, take my opinion with a grain of salt if you're the type who looks for instant gratification.
While we were peeling those pesky chestnuts, we set a few porcini mushrooms afloat in some nice hot water.
The rehydrated porcini and roasted chestnuts were thrown (albeit gently) into a mid-sized saucepan with some delicious stock. We let them frolic there for between 20-30 minutes so that their flavors could meld and the chestnuts could pick up a bit of additional tenderness. And then we pureed the crap out of them...
... which resulted in one of the silkiest, smoothest soups you can imagine.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we chopped up some rutabaga and carrots and sauteed them until they were nicely caramelized. We'll spare you the details, but when all was finished, we piled them nicely into our prepared soup bowl.
When covered with the delicious soup, the veggies bobbed up top for a bit of air.
This soup definitely relies on the porcini mushrooms for its earthy character; but the chestnuts lend sweetness and texture that really takes the soup up a level. The caramelized root vegetables add interest, and they offer something toothsome to the otherwise creamy soup.

On Thanksgiving day, it was just the two of us. But, this soup is good enough that it needs to be shared. So, I'm suspecting it will have to make an encore performance at Christmas Day dinner.

Am already looking forward to it. *slurp*


©BURP! Where Food Happens