Market days

This morning started off splendidly in the form of a generous helping of wild chanterelle bread pudding for breakfast, the product of a rather ambitious endeavor I undertook earlier in the week. On Thursday, I made my first brioche--or at least, I attempted to make my first brioche. Everything went according to plan initially, and after the first rising I delighted at the perfectly elastic and smooth ball of buttery dough I had created. Unfortunately, my decision to refrigerate it overnight to let it rise a second time on Friday morning proved unwise--the dough failed to swell up enough to fill my pan, and due to a time crunch I ended up baking the loaf anyway despite the size problem. Though it did taste okay, it certainly did not manage to achieve that almost-ethereal lightness that defines a truly divine brioche. I felt like such a rookie.

Nonetheless, on Friday afternoon, I ended up cutting my slightly tiny and deformed brioche into small cubes and toasting them in the oven as I moved on to a task I knew I could handle--sautéing a gorgeous heap of chanterelles with some minced shallot and garlic in an almost-sinful amount of butter (here I admit that my standards are markedly lower than either Julia Child's or Paula Deen's). I bought the chanterelles last weekend from the man from Misty Mountain Mushrooms in Yamhill who sells just around the corner from Winters Farms at the farmers' market. I adore this man--he gave me such guidance when I bought the last of the season's morels from him in a spur of the moment splurge earlier this summer. Those morels were divine, by the way, sautéed in butter and garlic atop a generous pile of blanched and salted green beans. Summer, you are too good to me.

Once the chanterelles had given up enough of their moisture, I threw in a few small handfuls of Italian parsley and let them rest while I lightly whipped a few eggs from Raynblest Farm with half and half from Noris Dairy. After the mushrooms had sufficiently cooled, I tossed them into the egg and milk mixture with the toasted cubes of brioche and let the oven work its beautiful magic. The result was outrageously decadent. I filled little ramekins of the pudding for me, Sara, and Anne as we all sat down to watch The OC on my couch. I like the thought of coupling a rich, earthy dish of bread and mushrooms with something as contrived and flighty as a teen soap. It suited me quite nicely.

This morning I awoke to more bread pudding and was delighted by how much more involved the flavors had gotten with each other since the night before. I admit it's a little bit early in the season for chanterelles, and my brioche was less than stellar, but this dish has enormous potential to become a staple in the winter months when I need to pack on my hibernation pounds. Portland winters are cruel sometimes, and I can think of no better comfort than a hot plate of bread and mushrooms soaked in butter, eggs, and cream. Sometimes I marvel at how cavalier I can be about those years of veganism I racked up not so long ago. To be fair, of course, most of the food I cook continues to be vegan. But how liberating it feels to have relieved myself of some of my previous culinary dogmatism! As long as I know where it all comes from, I do not plan on forfeiting my new and blossoming relationship with eggs and dairy any time soon (meat, on the other hand, is unlikely to make an appearance in my life for a long, long time).

After bread pudding, I was ready to head to work at the farmers' market until I realized the worst: a flat tire, pathetically flopping against the rim of my bicycle's back wheel. With no patch kit/spare tube/spare bike to be had, I ended up having to take the bus to work and arriving forty minutes late. Marven was sympathetic (I called well in advance to let him know the situation), but I still felt bad for the mishap. I consoled myself with lots and lots of raspberries and blackberries like any sensible lady would after a morning of fat and carbs and no bicycling.

I walked away from the market more empty-handed than usual, since on Monday I'll receive my first delivery from my wintertime CSA! Huzzah for Hood River Organics. I feel that extreme giddiness that swells in the last few days leading up to Christmas, and have spent all day pondering what sort of bounty awaits me. Anyway, I ended up buying more eggs from the woman at Raynblest, plus five pounds of insanely gorgeous prune plums. I saw a recipe on Orangette for prune plum tart and I felt inspired. They were too plump and perfect to pass up. I also walked away with another bag of chanterelles from the mushroom man, who delighted at my tale of the bread pudding. This week's mushrooms were bigger and brighter than last week's, which can only mean wonderful things for the early fall. And perhaps a more spectacular fate awaits these beauties--I found a recipe for swiss chard and ricotta gnudi (like gnocchi, but made with ricotta and flour!) with chanterelles from Bon Appetit. I have high ambitions to make my first block of cheddar cheese this week, and I figured I could use the whey to make ricotta for this recipe.

After the market, Julia and I went to Three Friends coffee shop for a latte. Such a nice way to spend a lazy and cool Saturday afternoon. We chuckled at the sight of our hands--neither of us has figured out how to wash away the semi-permanent stains of berry juice from our fingers. I probably didn't help the situation by coming home and peeling some beets I boiled to set aside for beet bundt cake. Our blender broke earlier this week and our food processor is also defunct, so I need to find some kind of replacement soon so I can experiment in the realm of vegetable-based desserts (I made a killer zucchini-olive oil cake last week from Gina DePalma's recipe from Babbo, so I have faith in this combination). After cleaning off the beets, my hands were such a bright and gorgeous red that it seemed a shame to wash them off. Admittedly, the red isn't completely gone, so at least I have some reminder of my berry-and-beet filled day.

I settled in to a dinner of fusilli with some sautéed tofu, broccoli, zucchini, and chili peppers and a side of roasted beets and baby yukon gold, new, and purple potatoes with fennel oil and a splash of red wine vinegar. It was kind of a funny combination, but I had so many leftovers that begged of me to eat them that such a pairing was pretty much inevitable. Plus, who cares as long as it all tastes good, right?

Tomorrow, Sara and I are going to the Pittock Mansion in the West Hills to take in what is supposedly one of the best views in the city. I can't wait. Then, I shall settle in to a calm and relaxing evening with my mountain of textbooks. Hard to believe that in the midst of so much food, I still have all of those classes to take.

WILD-MUSHROOM BREAD PUDDING

adapted from Gourmet.com

SERVES8

• ACTIVE TIME:35 MIN
• START TO FINISH:1 1/2 HR

4 cups (1/2-inch) fresh brioche cubes
1 1/2 lb chanterelles
1/2 cup finely chopped shallot
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 cups half-and-half
4 large eggs

1. Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.
2. Bake bread cubes in 1 layer in a large shallow baking pan until golden-brown, about 10 minutes.
3. Tear or cut mushrooms lengthwise into 1/4-inch-thick pieces.
4. Cook shallot in butter in a 12-inch heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until beginning to soften, about 3 minutes. Add mushrooms, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and cook until liquid mushrooms give off has evaporated, about 15 minutes. Add parsley and garlic and cook, stirring, 2 minutes. Remove from heat.
5. Whisk together half-and-half, eggs, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in a large bowl. Stir in mushrooms and bread cubes until coated well and let stand 10 minutes for bread to absorb some of egg mixture.
6. Butter a shallow baking dish (I used a 10" square pan) and spoon in the mixture. Bake until firm to the touch, 30-35 minutes. Serve and enjoy.