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CAULIFLOWER MUSHROOMS, DAIKON SPROUTS, AND SAGE FLOWERS

Because Mondays are always so good at Monday-ing—my good friend Garfield famously hates them for a reason—I have a weekly recurring event titled “special supper @ home” in my calendar to make things feel less “Mondayne.” As last week’s version of that meal was coming together, I was fixated on timing—steak was resting, blanched and shocked green vegetables were back on the heat with grilled endives and sauteed shallots, hollandaise was off the burner but keeping warm in a bowl over still-steaming water, and salad needed to be dressed without becoming soggy. I had a blowtorch, my chef’s knife, sage flowers and serving spoons on standby, and I was seconds away from assembling everything when Sam opened a cupboard and, in classic Monday fashion, one of his camera lenses came tumbling down and knocked a full glass of water all over his desk. 

During what they referred to as “restaurant simulation” in culinary school, one of my chef instructors shared an imaginary update with the class: Surprise! My water broke while I was working the fish station, which meant I had to sit the rest of service out (a pretend baby was on the way…), and everyone else had to keep things moving—in my own restaurant work experience, these types of unforeseen scenarios happened much less dramatically, but it’s true that you’ve got to be quick to adapt. When actual water was spilling over Sam’s desk—where so much of his real life lives—being quick to adapt meant forgetting about everything that’s happening in the kitchen and doing whatever I could to help save the laptop, hard drives, notebooks, and USB cables. Thankfully (thankfully is an understatement) nothing got ruined, and the only signs of damage were seen in the hollandaise—which were easy enough to undo with an extra squeeze of lemon juice and a whisk. 

I was unsuccessful at winning Sam over with sage after I shared an Eater Instagram post featuring nine herbs and a prompt that read “One Must Go” and he picked it. I went to the grocery store with my fists all balled up to prove him wrong, and it didn’t work but their purple blossoms made me happy. I also always get a high from the silly banter that comes from forced choice food games, which are some of my favorite ways to procrastinate. I have the best memories from working in the office at SSENSE, where at the editors’ table we once described ourselves as different nut varieties, and in the kitchen at Providence, where we sometimes played “Fuck, Marry, Kill” not about people but ingredients in the restaurant. 

Cooking throughout the remainder of the week was mostly mellow. On Tuesday I opted for a sheet-pan spread of brussel sprouts, shallots, red yams, and hickory smoked bacon. Leftovers were mixed into a scramble on Wednesday morning, and then dinner relied on instant ramen with eggs and loads of broccoli and bok choy. Thursday involved a twist on cauliflower gratin (more on that to come). Friday was “National Grilled Cheese Day,” an entirely made-up holiday that Sam and I figured we might as well celebrate with brioche, dijon, gruyère, et al. Daikon sprouts became a new favorite topping, which punctuated almost everything I made with a nice peppery bite—more than their taste, I just love their scribbly shapes. 

The weekend weekend-ed in the most warming and wonderful ways—our usual family dinner was bumped up to Saturday in order to celebrate an actual national holiday (a very special birthday). A Sunday dinner party—hosted by women I admire beyond measure—was not only exquisite but full of the kinds of conversations you sometimes forget you’ve been desperate for. I’m so grateful for that, and I’ll be dreaming about every single bite for the foreseeable future.

Until last Thursday, I was unaware that cauliflower mushrooms (Sparassis) exist. I was searching for a recipe when Google brought their curly caps to my attention, and it had been a while since I spent time reading up on fungi—around this time last year, courtesy of one of my chef instructors, black trumpets sparked a new obsession. I willingly went down the rabbit hole again. 

Here were my takeaways: They’re invasive, but only mildly? They’re both easy to spot and hard to find. They kind of look like soaped-up loofahs, but given their intricate curves and tiny folds, they’re notoriously difficult to clean—to remove hidden bugs and dirt and pine needles, you gotta get in there with a tiny tool or toothbrush. A James Beard Award-winning author and chef considers them “the ultimate soup mushrooms.” Their spores—not intended for consumption—are available for purchase on this website, where research hospitals can also source syringes of phallic hallucinogens (enter that rabbit hole if you dare). This website sells tinctures of extracted cauliflower mushrooms as somewhat of a wellness substance. Six recipes for things to make with them can be found on this website, where one in particular stood out as something I could put together without cauliflower mushrooms but rather a quick forage through the fridge.

The goal for dinner became cauliflower and shiitake gratin, in which butter, chives, garlic, green onion, gruyere, jalapeño, panko, parmesan, shallots, and slivered almonds would join forces to build upon a comforting Ina classic. I chopped two types of cauliflower and one bunch of baby broccoli into florets and blanched them in heavily salted boiling water for about two minutes. I transferred them to an ice bath to stop them from cooking any longer and drained and dried them as best as I could—they were about to enter a 375 degree oven and bake in a cheesy bechamel bath, and I did not want to make mush. I did want to make mushrooms, so I thinly sliced shiitakes and quickly seared them with two jalapeños, two shallots, and six cloves of garlic (all finely diced), and mixed them together with the other vegetables. I handed Sam three large blocks of cheese—one gruyère, two parmesans—along with a microplane and said nothing more than “all of this.” I made a blonde roux, to which I added about two cups of milk and several pinches of salt, white pepper, cayenne, and shiitake powder. I turned off the heat and stirred in ¾ of the grated cheese (grateful for you, Sam), until things were smooth. To the remaining ¼ of cheese, I added an equal amount of panko. In a square baking dish, I ladled down a layer of cheese sauce and added enough of the vegetable mixture to cover it, then repeated those two steps until the dish was fully loaded and covered with sauce. I sprinkled the panko-cheese combo evenly over everything, seasoned it with salt and pepper, poured some melted butter on top, and popped it into the oven. About 10 minutes before the gratin was ready, I added slivered almonds and waited for them to get golden and toasty as the cheese reached ideal levels of bubbling gooey goodness. When it came time to serve it up, I garnished it with chopped chives and curly green onions. 

Our friend Ryan came over shortly after, and while making him a plate, I nervously rambled on about how I usually try to make things visually appealing, but prioritizing comfort (with things you probably wouldn’t find in a restaurant but still spark joy at home) has been the move this week. “Oh,” he said, after a couple bites, “I’m very comfortable.” All three of us burst into laughter and it was perfect. 

And once again, some email headlines that marked my food news intake this week, and some that have been permanently put on the back burner:

The Olipop Contest Drama, Explained
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Delta Gatti

Update: 2024-12-04