Gathering Mushrooms

The perfect year, late summer rains. I've never found so many Boletus. They're huge and they're everywhere. Made a couple of racks to dry them on, in slices, for mid-winter risotto. Very much like the dried Porcini from Italy, the recipe I first read. Another favorite is from "The Joy Of Cooking", a risotto alla Milanese, adding cooked chopped chicken livers and gizzards at the end. Often add a cup pf green peas because it looks so nice. Important if serving, as I do, the dish as the main course, with just bread, because it looks like a big plate of slightly yellow library paste. Little cubes of butternut squash make a great addition. I think that's John Thorne. Risotto gets a bad rap because it does require attention, but I read while I'm stirring, a paperback I can hold open in one hand, and besides, the stove is warm in winter and I'm often hovering over there anyway. Left-over risotto makes a superb pancake the next morning. Usually make a quick gravy for these, because maple syrup doesn't work, a scant spoon of bacon fat, some chicken broth, a little corn starch: I know, I know, I just railed against thickeners, but this is a breakfast gravy, not an evening sauce. I cheat. I'm a cheap date. A decent cook with no pretense. I don't want to work in a restaurant, own a restaurant, cook in a restaurant. I like to cook and eat, I enjoy cooking for a few friends, but I hang shows for a living, tend the needs of a museum, then, the rest of the time is my own. Wanting to spend most of your time alone is viewed as an aberration, I know, but I make no excuse for leaving whatever function, and no one expects me to, they're surprised I'm there in the first place. It's a perfect fit, me at the museum now, I hope Penny stays and I can teach her to clean toilets and to put away her tools. I never was a teacher. Frankly, I'd rather do it myself. I'm generally flying in this zone where I might be, for instance, trying to codify a prehistoric artifact, or looking at a painting. Pegi was cute today, I love her, she was making amends, combing her hair, wanted me to understand that both she and D felt that I should earn more money, but times are tight. Right. I got that. What about the next show? Everything is always the future. I sit back on my ass, but the future is always what you might construct. I want to do another, better, river show. Less compromise, I'm always suspect of compromise.