We
ate many mushrooms in France. We ate orange chanterelle schmoored down in drip
drip butter and entire heads of garlic smoosh-smoosh in pan hot and swipe the
pan clean with pieces of pan-toasty bread with chop chop parsley. And then out
of the pan with our hands for breakfast the next day.
We ate
brain-spongy morilles hidden half in somewhat soggy omelettes and drowned in jus under lamb chops from French lambs.
We
seared more chanterelle in more butter and ate big bowls of them with
still-chewey barley. On top we put perfect temperature comté because we were
where comté comes from and we didn’t have a fridge.
Another
time we grilled them and put once-chopped parsley and lemon juice squeezed on
them.
