An October version of pasta e ceci
with plumped-up porcini in the broth & crisp, fried mushrooms for topping
As I’ve said before, for some odd reason, I turn to mushrooms when I’m tired and lacking in energy. Some hopeful part of my brain believes they will revive me.
I’m very specific on the desired outcome. I want deeply browned mushrooms (the fun, firm varieties please) with a crisp exterior, seasoned with something acidic. These salt and vinegar roasted mushrooms, from exactly this time last year, tick all the boxes for me.
However, for today’s recipe, I favour frying rather than roasting the mushrooms, simply because I’m already at the stove for the brothy pasta e ceci that they will be scattered over. I alternate my attention between the pot and the pan, depending on what needs stirring, seasoning, checking in on. You could, of course, crank up the oven and opt for the salt and vinegar roasting method instead; they would work a treat here. The desired outcome is the same: deeply browned mushrooms, and revival.
An October version of pasta e ceci
With plumped-up porcini in the broth & crisp, fried mushrooms for topping
I wrote this recipe for Northern Pasta Co, an amazing British brand championing regenerative farming. I love everything about their pasta: small batch! British grown spelt! bronze cut! slow dried! For pasta e ceci, I like to use what is undoubtedly the cutest of all their shapes - conchigliette. The little shells are perfect for holding puddles of broth, nuggets of plumped-up porcini, and the occasional chickpea that nestles its way in.
Serves 4
20g dried porcini
1 large onion
2 celery sticks
4 garlic cloves
400g seasonal mushrooms (ideally a mixture of fun, firm varieties such as king oyster, shiitake, maitake/hen of the woods)
Olive oil
1x 570g jar of chickpeas (including the bean liquid) or 2x 400g tins, drained and rinsed 1 litre good quality chicken or veg stock
1 unwaxed lemon
Four handfuls of small pasta such as conchigliette, datalini or orecchiette (about 150g)
Bunch of parsley
Parmesan and chilli flakes, for serving
First things first, put the dried porcini in a small bowl and cover with just-boiled water. Set aside to rehydrate and soften.
Finely chop the onion and celery and thinly slice the garlic. Roughly tear any particularly large mushrooms, leave the rest whole.
In a large, heavy based pot, warm a good glug of olive oil (about 3 tbsp) then add the onion, celery, garlic, a big pinch of salt and lots of black pepper. Cook gently for 17-20 minutes, stirring every so often, until very soft and lightly golden.
Meanwhile, set a large frying pan (I like cast-iron here) over a medium-high heat. Add a generous drizzle of oil to coat the base of the pan and once warm add roughly a third of the mushrooms. I like to work in batches of the same variety so that they cook at a similar rate. Leave the mushrooms to fry undisturbed for a few minutes before turning. It’s tempting to peak or move them about, but please resist that temptation to allow for deep browning! Having said that, you can press the pieces down with tongs or a spatula to ensure even contact with the pan and therefore encourage the browning. Once deeply brown on both sides, transfer to a large plate or tray and immediately season with salt and grate over a little lemon zest. Repeat with the rest of the mushrooms, replenishing the pan with glugs of oil as needed.
Once the onion mixture is very soft, add the chickpeas and stock. Lift the soaked porcini out of their liquid, roughly chop and add to the pot. Slowly pour in the soaking liquid, being careful to leave behind any grit that has sunk to the bottom of the bowl. If you’re still browning the mushrooms at this stage, leave the broth to gently simmer.
Add the pasta to the broth and cook until al dente, stirring every so often.
Roughly chop the parsley, stir this through, then squeeze in the juice of the lemon. Taste for seasoning then ladle into bowls and top with the fried mushrooms. Finish with drizzles of olive oil, a pinch of chilli flakes and grated parmesan.
Bits & bobs
Terrible advice, don’t take it