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.