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So the evening was a treat.  I wore a sweater, thinking it would be chilly but the warm air was perfectly clingy.

I cut the morels long so there would be more surface area to be coated in the rich reduction.  They sautéd in the butter and walnut oil for a few minutes then I added the chopped garlic, a half teaspoon of demi-glace and a good glug of red wine.  Salt, pepper, moved the pan to a side heat then stood back for about 10 minutes while they bubbled away.  Meanwhile the rib-eyes and some sweet peppers went on centre stage.

A handful of flat leaf parsley finished the dish and with a swift plating dinner was served.

To my taste I had oversalted the morels.  Derek thought it was perfect.  The food my mother cooked for me as a child was barely salted which as a result grants me taste buds with a heightened salt perception, not such a bad thing.  Perhaps my low sodium diet in some way counteracts my gluttonous appetite for wine?

I hope to eat morels more often in my lifetime.   They are earthy and chewy.  They soak up and retain whatever scrummyness you choose to add.  Next time I shall do the creamy pillowy pasta dish and accordingly roll my eyes in ecstatic joy.  Long live short supply, suppression can be so rewarding.

 

 

 

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