The white plate contains the mushrooms - now we contain them!
The Chef looking slightly unsure of her job
Jean shaving - presumably in case we had to look tidy at the A and E Department
A friend called in this morning a dropped off a bag of wild mushrooms.
"I had some for supper last night - delicious" he reported, and we both looked at him closely for any signs of food poisoning.
"The best thing is to cook that one a bit longer and cook it with other sorts and then it won't give you any problems".
"What sort of problems?" I enquired nervously, but he had moved onto other subjects, like the fact that the regular mushroom spots weren't particularly fruitful this year, nor had they been last year.
Assuming that if he hunted mushrooms and survived the harvest each year, we should be OK, so following instructions (and checking on the status of Jean's insurance policy), I proceeded to cook them in salted butter along with barbequed pork chops and some fresh tomatoes dipped in olive oil and dusted with Herb de Provence.
I have to confess that the results were delicious, and here we are an hour later, still alive to tell the tale. However, I did take a photo of each of us plus the aforementioned mushrooms, just in case anyone needed to do a post-mortem, and wanted to know what they looked like - the mushrooms, not us!
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