Magic Mushrooms

and an answer to the burning question: is cooking hereditary?

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From Karyl’s Cook & Tell Newspaper Column (July 9, 1981)

Amie’s back in town. The daughter is here for the summer, along with her stereo, her records, her favorite pillow, her tennis racket and—wouldn’t you know—her own crepe pan. Just like twins who are separated at birth and find each other as adults only to discover they speak fluent Ukrainian and are married to men named Fred, this mother and this daughter, living under different roofs for so many months, turn out to be crepe fanatics.

Not only that, she brought her own cookbooks. Vegetarian cookbooks.

The Kid (I was wrong when I reported some time ago that The Kid had grown too tall, too sixteen, too attractive to be called The Kid anymore. Sorry, she is still The Kid, at seventeen) had been here a week when she announced at dinner one night, “This is the most meat I’ve had in a month.” On this occasion, I had used hamburg in the chili—the one meal in a week that was faintly meaty—because, of all things, I was out of bulghur, the grain that packs the dish with the wallop more conventionally provided by beef.

When chicken made an appearance at the table a few days later, Amie was sure she’d found Meat Street USA, right here on Love’s Cove.

There are things we differ on, but when it comes to crepes, we are sisters of the skillet. The first thing she offered to make for all of us was mushroom crepes. But there were conditions. “You can’t come into the kitchen and watch me,” she said. “I don’t want you telling me I slice my mushrooms wrong.”

“Can I watch one crepe?” I asked, trying to convey genuine interest with no desire whatsoever to criticize. I called it crepe appraisal on a non-judgmental basis, whatever that is. She gave her qualified consent: mind your own business was the implied modus operandi.

Once allowed in the kitchen and having observed one crepe, I was permitted to futz around doing supportive tasks like garbage and wipe-up. Not once did I peek at her whacking her mushrooms. It was frightening enough to this mother’s ear to hear the thud of blade on board that told me her slicing technique was still in the developmental phase. It was better that I didn’t see how she held that chef’s weapon or whether she tucked in her thumb.

It's not because she’s my daughter that The Kid makes great crepes; hers are simply better than mine. Fact is, cooking is neither catching nor hereditary. And even though I wanted to gush praise, I tried to stick with my resolve to be non-judgmental. “These crepes are wonderful,” I told her over and over.

I guess I struck the right balance between spirited congratulations and yawning indifference, because the list of dishes posted on the fridge that Amie intends to make while she’s here is growing. It looks as though mushroom moussaka and mushroom quiche are coming up next, a fact that makes me wonder if it might be to our advantage to investigate the possibility of growing the fungus of the hour in our damp dirt cellar. I’m not about to risk losing the best chef I ever had by complaining about the cost of mushrooms.

Not only that, but if any member of the family is looking forward to a vegetarian summer with anything but gratitude, they are reminded that two months is a very small portion of a whole lifetime, and that willing kitchen help is a veritable treasure.

Amie’s Headnotes

I’d been living up north with my dad and stepmom for a couple of years when I returned to spend that summer with my mom. It was the early 80s, I was a year away from high school graduation, and I’d become a full-fledged vegetarian after working at a vegetarian co-op restaurant with a bunch of hippies at an old mill. My cooking bibles were The Vegetarian Epicure (both volumes) and Moosewood Cookbook. I still have all three cookbooks, I still post the weekly menu on my fridge, and I’m still a vegetarian for the most part, although I’ll never refuse a crab roll or a hearty bowl of haddock chowder.

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illustration by my mom, Karyl Bannister

AMIE’S APPROVED CREPES

Makes 15-16

• 3 large eggs

• 2/3 c. milk

• 1/3 c. light cream

• ½ c. water

• ½ t. salt

• 1 c. flour

• 1 T. butter, melted

• 1 T. sugar

Beat eggs, then beat in milk, cream, water and salt. Add flour gradually, beating until smooth or use a blender for everything. Stir in butter and sugar. Let batter rest for at least ½ hour, up to 2 hours. Melt a bit of butter in your crepe pan (or small iron skillet) and when it sizzles pour in just enough batter to cover the inside of the pan (about 3 T. for a 7” pan). Cook over medium heat about a minute, loosen edge with thin spatula, turn (fingers are good for turning) and cook the other side less than a minute. Use a tiny dab of butter between crepes to oil the pan and don’t let it brown or the pan will be too hot. Keep warm, stacked on a plate and covered with a slightly damp dish towel in a warm oven. Or stack with slips of wax paper between and roll up in a plastic bag and store in freezer.

Fill with:

CREAMED MUSHROOM FILLING

• 12 crepes

• 1 ½ pounds mushrooms

• 4 ½ T. butter

• ¼ c. finely chopped onion or shallot

• 2 T. flour

• 1 c. heavy cream, heated (Amie used milk)

• Salt and pepper

• 1 ½ T. sherry

Slice mushrooms thickly (watch your thumb). Sauté onions or shallots in 2 ½ T. butter for 2 min, add mushrooms and sauté over high heat, stirring until juices are released and evaporated. Season with salt and pepper. In small pan, melt remaining butter, stir in flour, cook 2 min stirring constantly, then stir in cream or milk. Beat with whisk until smooth. Simmer and stir several minutes. Stir in sherry. Add sauce to mushrooms, heat and stir for a few minutes. Spoon a small amount of mushrooms down center of each crepe and roll up over filling.

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Amie’s Endnotes

Here’s a Whoopie Pie update from on-the-scene reporter and subscriber, Cheryl S, who was actually not on the scene for last month’s Whoopie Pie Festival in Dover-Foxcroft, Maine:

“I’m sorry to report I didn’t attend this year’s Festival,” Cheryl writes. “I spent the day on the pontoon boat on the lake – very nice!! I hear it was a huge success and everyone had a great time!  Also, as always, the variety of whoopie pies were amazing!”

I’ll cut you some slack this year, Cheryl. If the weather was anything like the last Festival I attended in 2022 (triple digits, if I recall correctly), I’d have been out on the lake, too.

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To all the new Cook & Tell subscribers, welcome! We’re glad you found us.

Your Pantry Pals,

Amie & Karyl