Still Cooking, Through Thick or Thin

Sometimes I don't know how I ever got the idea that I could cook. In my cooking life, I've failed in ways that would discourage the best of us. For example, there's the time back in the day (when Clinton was still president) when I decided it would be a good idea to invite the-man-who-would-become-my-husband over to dinner at my apartment, and show off what a great cook I was. For as George Meredith said, "Kissing don't last: cookery do." I suppose two weeks into a relationship is a little premature to start relying on cookery, but I'm a girl who likes to hedge her bets.

Being greeted at the door by a billowing cloud of smoke and a disheveled woman who quickly yanks you inside in order to avoid triggering the building fire alarm could not have appeared promising. Yet for some reason my future husband stuck with me and I stuck with cooking.

I guess in the end, love and determination (translation: co-dependency and sheer, unrelenting obstinacy) are what gets us through.

Recently I decided to cook a fancy wedding anniversary dinner for my husband and myself. I won't say much about it; let's just say that the gnocchi alla romana didn't gnocchize. Failure. Stupid, annoying failure. Please note the theme I am developing here: Show-offs never prosper. Luckily, my husband bought us a bottle of something nice.

He's obviously a man who has learned to hedge his bets as well.

The next day, I was back to feeling annoyed about the gnocchi. I decided to make something fabulous and decadent so those gnocchi would know who's boss. Something with lots of mushrooms and cream, and a huge punch of lemon to blast through all that heaviness, both metaphorical and real. Something that would be good with pasta. Forget the gnocchi, who needs 'em? Not me.

In case you need proof that this sauce is very likable, my four-year-old daughter happily ate it. Not on her pasta, of course. But on the side. She even ate the oyster mushrooms without question. They have a mild flavor, somewhat reminiscent of seafood. Lemon works well with them. (You should eat them too. They're good for you!) Be aware that the amount of lemon I've recommended is quite assertive. I think it cuts through the heaviness of the cream quite nicely, but you could probably reduce the amount of lemon juice by half and be OK.

Oyster Mushroom Lemon Cream Sauce
2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, sliced in 1/2 inch pieces "against the grain"
4 cloves garlic, minced
half a pound crimini mushrooms, sliced
half a pound oyster mushrooms, cut into 1- or 2-inch pieces
1/2 teaspoon fresh rosemary, minced
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
juice of one lemon
3/4 cup cream
1/3 cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano (the good stuff)
salt

Melt the butter in a large saute pan over medium heat. Add the onions and saute them for 6-7 minutes, until softened. Add the garlic and saute about one more minute. Add the mushrooms and a few pinches of salt, and continue to saute until the mushrooms have softened and released their juices. Add the lemon zest and rosemary and saute a couple minutes more. Reduce heat to very low and add the lemon juice and cream and stir to combine. Heat but be very careful not to boil. Stir in the Parmigiano. Add more salt if needed. Serve tossed with pasta, with additional Parmigiano sprinkled on top. Farfalle (bowties) work well.