Sunday Roasts

Sunday morning, 10am-ish. I scrunched my eyes open, saw the time. Huh. Don’t normally wake up this late. I had things I wanted to do, I knew. Took a few heartbeats before I remembered – potluck lunch.

So up I got, showered and laundered and got to work in the kitchen. Ripped stems off mushrooms, slathered butter onto the caps and laid them in rows, gills up, on a baking tray. Chopped the stems, chopped an onion, chopped a few cloves of garlic. Diced some franks. Fried them all with oil and a dollop of butter.

Dished out half the fried stuff and coated them with some of the sauce I had made from canned pumpkin soup, coconut cream and chicken stock (and a dollop of butter). Spooned the mix onto the mushrooms and in they went into the oven (about 15 minutes @ 180°C).

The rest of the fried stuff got fried with sliced leeks, then mixed with the rest of the sauce. And my potluck piece was done. It looked like this when I plated it for photography purposes:

Baked mushroom with leek in pumpkin coconut cream

Obviously looked nothing like that by the time it got to the potluck table.

Thanks to Cubitt for the soup and drinks and jelly, to Snowie for the lovely brownmoussies, to Spot for the roast pork and for the unrivalled star at the table – roast potatoes. Yes, roast potatoes. Obviously must be good as they were lathered in goose fat flown all the way from London (the fat, not the geese). Thanks to Will, of course, without whom we would not have had a dining table, plates or cutlery. Or fat.

Roast pork with crispy skin and potatoes roasted in goose fat

My gratitudes as well to Ed, who politely forced one mushroom down his throat, and to Kit, who politely said he did.

All in all, a very fun, fulfilling and most filling time with fine friends. Another Sunday, downed and digested, but the mammaries are bound to last.