Mushrooms on miche

Tears in toilets (TIT) are never a great look.*

Particularly in a busy office. But some weeks can be a little more fraught than others. Being locked out of your house half dressed in the morning isn’t a great start to the day.

Compound that with some startlingly unrealistic expectations, a stern deadline and the sad ramifications of a rogue number, and it’s a TIT of a Friday.

The morning after, despite some medicinal efforts with pad see ew and pink wine, I was still a little frayed around the edges and dreaming of running away to the other side of the world. Perhaps to take eternal refuge in the ‘steadying’ cooking of Mr Fergus Henderson.

(For a little memory jog of jolly times at St John)

And so we were looking for some sticky tape to help meld the mental health back together. Since we’re in Sydney, we had to make do with what we could manage ourselves. This is what we found.

Mushrooms on miche.

1) Have a sensitive spouse pretend he’s just ducked downstairs for the Sydney Morning Herald and some milk. Have him return 15 minutes later from Sonoma with a half loaf of fresh baked, miraculous miche (a whole miche weighs in at a good 1.7 kilos- half is fine for us).

This caramellised apple coloured loaf is a miracle of creation; crusty yet cheekily spongy in the centre. They only make a limited number. You have to time your trip just right to come home with goods. But oh it’s worth it. The smell when it’s still warm is so comforting it’s like being wrapped in a doonasuit that’s been woven by bath-clean children and Yo Yo Ma.

2) Take an enormous bundle of mushrooms that are squatting in your fridge, waiting to be put to some gainful purpose. If they were boutique, heirloom varieties it would be great. But if you’re like me and don’t immediately have them to hand on a shabby Saturday morning, then just regular diced button mushrooms will do.

Take 50 grams of butter. Melt it. Add two diced cloves of garlic. Add the sliced mushrooms and introduce the fat to the fungus. We had about 40 normal, button sized mushrooms. We like our mushrooms. Twenty would probably suffice. But then I live with The Hungry One.

Keep the mushrooms moving around. I use a non-stick wok thing because there’s more room and I like its gentle curves. Add some chopped fresh parsley and thyme. I also had some marjoram. Marjoram just seems like such a bridesmaid of a herb- so I let her play along too.

I think she had a nice time.

Also added in is a good glug of olive oil, sprinkle of salt, pepper and two tablespoons of dijon mustard. The mustard just seemed to round it out.

3) Put on some music. John Mayer worked well. He cries in public too.

Poach three eggs (two for The Hungry One, one for me).

Now; since I’m in an oversharing kind of mood; here’s my new tactic to poaching eggs.

Line a muffin tray with squares of glad wrap. Crack the egg into the hole. Tie the tops like a halter.

Squat them in simmering water for three minutes until the whites have set but the yolks are still vulnerable.

There’s no swirling of water, you can multi task by making toast or setting the table at the same time and there’s no taint of vinegar.

It’s worth saying that turning them out can be slightly tricky- but them all good things that are created have the occasional stuff up along the way.

4)Get The Hungry One to make some coffee. Sit down and read the special on Art Month Sydneyin Spectrum (http://artmonthsydney.com) and marvel at all the great work your sister is doing.

5)Get a bit of perspective. Mop up the juices of the googy egg and the limpid mushrooms with the miche crust. Finish your coffee. Feel much better.

Enjoy the weekend.

* tears in toilets, a technical term for the act of running to the bathroom to have an emotional moment, usually born out of frustration and angst at work