Mushroom Madness

“What are chanterelles?” It was a simple enough question, but speaks volumes about Jeannie’s awareness of food, given that I’d just been telling her about mushroom ragout. Good thing I didn’t mention the cremini and porcini which also played a role in my dinner party’s piece de resistance.  For that matter, she wasn’t quite sure what polenta was (“Now isn’t that some kind of pasta?”) Even my father, impaired though he is, spoke up to correct her.

No one has ever been better suited than Jeannie to the era of 1950s convenience cooking.  While feeling obligated to cook for the family, she always made it as easy for herself as possible. Even when not working, she never saw the point of getting creative in the kitchen.  A special dinner for company might consist of her famous sherry beef: chunks of stewing meat thrown together with two cans of Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, dry onion soup mix, and a cup of sherry—just serve over rice and there you are.

My teen years found me for the first time eating canned mushrooms (stems and pieces, no less) in many forms: over watery turbot filets, mixed with frozen peas, folded into meat loaf. Another specialty of the house was honey chicken: equal amounts of honey and soy sauce, with minced dehydrated onions all poured over chicken, then covered tightly with foil and steamed in the oven for nearly two hours.

Anything that went into the oven had to be covered in foil; the goal was always to minimize “cooking smells” and avoid the possibility of spattering. The oven truly was as clean as on the day it was delivered. As added insurance, the exhaust fan was always running no matter what was on the stove—even boiling eggs.

One time my stepbrother decided to fry a couple of hot dogs while Jeannie was out; she came home to find a few spots of grease on the stove, a telltale frankfurter aroma lingering in the kitchen—and quickly went into Medea mode, racing through the house while shrieking imprecations, turning on fans and throwing windows open.  For once, I didn’t envy my stepbrother.

Now, of course, the convenience factor trumps everything. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, just the thought of scrubbing a potato overwhelms her. Instant rice, canned mushrooms and, as always, dehydrated minced onion are Jeannie’s loyal friends. And while she usually shuns frozen dinners, I think when she gets to the point of relying on them, everyone will be much better off.