The Fungus Among Us (about $4, about 40 minutes including baking time)

Mushrooms are not a fungus. They're flowers. The fungus is underground, and the mushroom is its...

Sigh.

Well, that doesn't make them any more palatable in theory, does it? I mean, is it better to think you're eating a fungus (images flash by: someone's nasty fungal toenail; the gunk in the the crevices between tiles in the shower; the largest living organism on earth, which is now taking over an entire Northwestern state -- should I even go on?)?

Or a penis/uterus (new set of images [and here I avoid the more obvious]: the German cannibal, who started with his consensual victim's you-know-what [which they ate together and pronounced kind of tough] ; Rocky Mountain Oysters (a festival? REALLY?); folks who eat human placenta...really, I should probably stop)?

I know. It's a food blog. This is crazy talk for a food blog.

And yet.

Don't you wonder who first looked at this thing-- grey, a little damp, pushing up out of the dank ground -- looked at it and said, "Effin' YUM! I want me some of that!" -- Because I'm thinking that person was starving OR had already eaten some funny mushrooms. I'm also thinking: probably he died, since so many mushrooms can kill you, the nasty buggers.

So I'm also thinking that the person(s) watching him took notes, sent another idiot out there to try another kind, who fell dead, and so forth until folks found the ones that are really tasty. Because, really good mushrooms are REALLY good.

Like these.

What I have here are stuffed mushroom caps. I use button mushrooms because I can find them readily at the grocery store, but any cap with a sufficiently rounded aspect will do. Just so you can get a hole where the stem is -- and yes, I know -- how to avoid double entendres when you start the way I did, I don't know.

What you need:

About a pound of good-sized mushrooms or just the caps

1/2 c finely chopped walnuts

1/2 c plain bread crumbs

1 1/2 TBSP dried dill

4 oz finely crumbled feta

4 TBSP milk

pepper

2 TBSP olive oil

Oven to 375. Lightly grease a large flat pan. I use a lasagna pan for this.

Mix nuts, bread crumbs, dill, feta and milk. The resulting stuffing will be loose and crumbly. This is right. Don't worry.

Wipe the mushrooms off. Me, I wash them, in violation of all that's sacred about mushroom cleaning, I understand. Alas. But then, I eat a lot less dirt this way.

If the mushrooms still have stems, wiggle them back and forth with your fingers. They should pop right out. Save these in the fridge to chop up in your next soup.

Wash your hands.

With your fingers, lightly press the filling into the cavities of each mushroom. You want enough pressure to compact the stuffing, but not so much that you break the mushroom in half. Experiment. If you break the mushrooms, it's okay: just set the pieces next to each other in the pan and cook them with the rest. They'll look broken but still taste just fine.

You want to make a little heap of stuffing on top of each mushroom. It'll stay together, I promise.

Place each mushroom in the lightly greased pan. They can touch each other if they need to. If not, not. You can ask them about this and explain good and bad touch if you think that's good parenting. If you do, you might consider explaining about death, since -- well, they're headed into the oven, and ultimately into the hydrochloric acid of your gut (okay, I love this site), so I think it's probably fair to say something while you're talking to the mushrooms anyway.

When you've stuffed all the mushrooms -- and I've never done this without having stuffing left over, which freezes just fine -- drizzle them with the olive oil. Use less if you'd like.

Bake the whole thing for about 20 minutes, uncovered. The mushrooms will darken and the stuffing will brown just a little bit. When they're soft enough for your taste, remove from the oven and, waiting so you don't burn your mouth, consume.

There you go.

Turkey Shaped like a Football (under $15, about an hour)

I have the lyrics to "Secret Agent Man" (I know I used this in the last post, but it's just SO good) stuck in my head this morning. Only they're the wrong lyrics, they're the classically wrong lyrics: I'm hearing, secret... ASIAN man, secret... ASIAN man over and over again. It's a mystery. Can you be a secret Asian? Why would you keep that a secret, even if you could? Why can't the singer sing AGENT, with a nice hard G?

Look, I'm procrastinating. I need to write a paper, but instead I'm writing to you guys.

Everything isn't what it should be.

Welcome to meatloaf.

Once, I sat down at a table to a meatloaf made of god knows what dead animal -- what obese dead animal -- ground up and pressed into a big square corningware casserole. The grease was...impressive, if you're impressed by about half an inch of grease, say, floating on top of your meat. There was also ketchup somehow, but I never caught how.

I think of this particular meatloaf as an insult to the meatloaf deity.

My mother's meatloaf was never like that. When I ate beef, I liked hers, and conveniently enough when it's reshaped, it makes delightful meatballs. So when I stopped eating red meat, I began experimenting with her recipe. Her meatloaf was tender in the middle, crispy-edged (for those yummy heel pieces), savory, and remarkably ungreasy. I wanted that for my non-beef-loaf.

Here is what I came up with. Look at the pictures for what you want in consistency and meat-to-bread ratio. I make two loaves at a time and often freeze one for later.

about a pound and a half of ground poultry
about a pound and a half of poultry sausage (we like hot Italian turkey sausage when we can get it)
stale bread (maybe four cups), cut into cubes
about 1/2 c seasoned breadcrumbs
two eggs
some milk
oregano, thyme, red pepper flakes, salt
jalapeno paste, if you like it hot

Dump the cubes in a giant bowl.

Dump the ground poultry on top of that.

Squeeze the sausage out of the casings into the bowl. Discard the casings.

Add eggs.

Splash in maybe 3/4 c milk. Keep the milk out in case you need more.

Add the bread crumbs and spices.

With a potato masher, mash everything together. You want to do this until everything is WELL mixed, so give it some time. If the bread cubes aren't coming up into the meat, splash on a little more milk, but just a little at a time. Keep mashing. It should come together so that you can form balls of it with your hands. If you set them down, they should hold together and not crack or fall open. This may take five minutes of mashing, though I'd say it takes maybe two-three normally.

When you have everything mashed together, wash your hands, set the oven for 375 and get out two pans with edges. I use rectangular brownie pans because both with fit in my oven together. But use what you have and bake in stages if you have to. Lightly grease the bottom of the pans (I use spray grease). Divide the meat mixture in half, taking out one half with your hands and forming it into a footbally-loafy shape. Pat it smooth. Place it in one pan. Repeat with the other half and place it in the other pan.

Wash your hands (remember you're working with poultry) and then put the pans in the oven. Baking loaves can take from 45-60 minutes. You want to watch that they're uniformly brown on the outside, and they aren't pink in the middle.

If you need this in shorter order, divide the meat mixture in three or four and make smaller loaves: four loaves will cook in about 20-30 minutes.

To make meatballs, just form the meat mixture into balls whatever size you like. You can bake these, but I normally use a skillet and pan-cook them on the stove. Since they're very unfatty, you need a little olive oil in the skillet.

There you go.