Mushroom Soup with Garlic & Parsley

Some lovely plump chestnut mushrooms have turned up in the organic box. It’s chillier than it should be for this time of year, so something warming is needed.

25g butter

½ an onion, finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

40g plain flour

700ml vegetable stock

250g sliced mushrooms

10 dried porcini mushrooms

A good handful chopped flat leaf parsley

75ml single cream, organic if you can

Salt & pepper

Melt half the butter and gently cook the onion and garlic. I’m making this for an early lunch and have Radio 4 on. The boy comes padding out of the bedroom in his pyjamas. He goes padding back in again when he realises there is no immediate food in the offing.

Stir the flour in – it will usually need a really good stir, to avoid any lumps. After a minute, add the stock. I have time, so mine is made from boiling an onion studded with cloves, two carrots, some thyme, celery stalks and a bay leaf in a litre of water. Usually I’d add some garlic but ours is too strong and it’s a little late for garlic scapes, which would be about right. The bay leaf is stolen from the tub outside our local pub. 20 minutes and that’s your stock. Purists don’t add peppercorns, which can make it cloudy. This is a creamy soup so it couldn’t matter less. I’m adding a few. Strain it once it’s done.

Add half the chestnut  mushrooms, all of the porcinis and parsley to the stock and stir well. It smells good and the boy comes padding out of the bedroom again. Once everything is tender, blend. It’s noisy so back into the bedroom he goes. My brother bought me a really good blender a few birthdays ago. I’m grateful. It has served me well.

In a clean pan, heat the rest of the butter and the remaining mushrooms. I’ve quartered them. Some music will temper this and I’ve chosen the live Callas recording of La Sonnambula, conducted by Bernstein. Am amazed to find that the boy likes it, given its rough sound. But it’s 1955, La Scala, there’s nothing like it. It would have been filled with white carnations. Bernstein was never as great as he thought he was. He brings out the emotion too easily. But Sonnambula can take it.  Stir in the cream, and heat it through. Ours comes from Jersey and looks almost yellow. The boy pops his finger into the waxed carton to have taste. He gets a swat on his bottom to send him on his way.  Pour  the blended soup into the pan and garnish with the rest of the parsley, salt and pepper. Quite a bit of both.

 We have a really good sourdough loaf, cut open lengthways, toasted  and rubbed with half a clove of garlic and a halved heirloom tomato from the garden. Both need to kind of melt into the bread. It has a drizzle of really green olive oil and a little flaky sea salt. We can then cut it into manageable pieces.  It’s the boy’s idea. He often has good ideas. A South African Chenin Blanc to go with.