When I was a kid and my mom was throwing dinner parties, I noticed that one of her go-to appetizers was stuffed mushrooms. The fungi in the spotlight were plain old white cultivated mushrooms stuffed with a mixture of buttery chopped mushrooms stems, onions, breadcrumbs and a little dried thyme or cheese. Those button mushrooms seem pretty ho-hum to us today, but back then they were downright exotic, if only because they were the only mushrooms in the store and they fetched a correspondingly serious price.
Today, it’s nothing but pastures of plenty. Go the supermarket and you’ll find mushrooms for miles. Even so, as I started developing this recipe, I began with white mushrooms partly as a sentimental nod to “auld lang syne” and partly because those particular mushrooms happen to be the cheapest in the store. Alas, the old standby didn’t have anywhere near the depth of flavor of its more darkly-colored cousins, namely cremini mushrooms, also known as baby bella or baby portabella mushrooms. So I went with the cremini.
Technique-wise, I was able to apply some of the moves I’ve learned since I cooked with my mom. The first is the proper way to wash mushrooms. During the ’60s, the prescribed solution was to wipe each one separately with a damp cloth. The theory was that mushrooms, being the little sponges that they are, would get soggy if you washed them. As you might imagine, this practice becomes tedious pretty quickly.
Happily, I learned a much speedier way in my restaurant days. It’s similar to washing lettuce. You fill up a bowl with cold water and toss in a handful of mushrooms. Then, working fast, you swish them all around, lift them out, and transfer them to paper towels to dry. They emerge from this quick communal bath clean and without having absorbed any water.