First For Everything: #4 Oyster Mushrooms

Pleurotus Ostreatus (oyster mushroom) is so named, both in English and Latin, for their resemblance to the bivalve of the same name. According to our friend Wikipedia it was first cultivated in Germany as a reliable food source during the first World War. Attempting to feed an entire army on fungus? Those crazy Germans.

Pretty little things, aren't they?

I love mushrooms and so the idea came about to try a more renowned variety other than the ubiquitous white shroom that has a million different names. The particular batch I have is full of older mushrooms; much like the elderly they have flabby appendages and tend to leak water when pressure is applied.

I decided to cook them quite simply: olive oil, butter, sea salt and white pepper. Because of the their water content one must slow cook them to release the juices and then, once they have wept beautiful mushroomy tears, turn the heat up to add some colour. I did it for about 6 minutes so if this isn't long enough or an egregious amount of time feel free to send me some hate mail correcting the matter

They look fine to me, but then I get my facts from online comics

Just in terms of appearance they look lovely; more like wilted petals than a tree-born fungi. Their texture is also deceptively refined. A little bit spongy, a little bit firm, a nice bite to it but not chewy with a fibrous quality. It perfectly capitulates the fact that it's technically neither plant nor animal.

In terms of flavour they're mushrooms Mk II. That distinctively earthy, umami flavour is dialled up to eleven with a nutty back note. They also absorb flavour like a sponge. When you cook then whole and uncut you almost get two versions; the gills soak up whatever is in the pan whilst the stem is a bit more resilient and gives you a more neutral representation of the mushroom. Considering how simple the preparation was they really are delicious.

My serving suggestion? A couple of these, sautéed as above, in a soft roll with crispy streaky bacon and a sweet chilli conserve. Try it. If it goes well, I'll take the credit. If it doesn't, I accept no responsibility.