Hot Mushroom Spread

Tuesday neurology appointment. Mom drove. The new medication regimen — slight increase, plus a second drug to help with the off times between doses — was prescribed and started Wednesday morning. The doctor said, Plan for these adjustments to need adjustment again in three months. The Parkinson's does what the Parkinson's does. The medication chases the symptoms. The chase is the long, slow work of the next decade.

Patrick had a slightly better week with the new medication. Not great. Better. The tremor was less Wednesday afternoon, less Thursday, somewhat less Friday. He fed himself Wednesday lunch with one hand. He had not done that in a week. Mom watched him and her shoulders dropped two inches in relief. She does not realize how high her shoulders have been carrying since New Year's. Sometimes you do not see the load until it shifts.

The Boise plan is set. Sarah booked me on a Friday morning flight out of Billings, returning Saturday morning. The hotel is two blocks from the venue. The ceremony is at six on Friday night. I have a suit that fit me at twenty-five and that I have not worn in five years. I tried it on Saturday. It fits. I look like a man who put on a suit. I will need new dress shoes. I will not buy them. I will polish my old boots. The award organizers can deal with boots.

I shod three horses across two days. The waiting list is at fifteen now. I have started telling new clients that February is full and that I can fit them in March. Some accept. Some go elsewhere. The income is steady. The medications are paid. The hay budget is on target. The cattle are wintering well. The new calf is now four months old and almost the size of the November weaners. He has made it. I will not take credit. The mother did the work. The mother always does the work.

Cooked Tuesday a venison shoulder Tom Whelan had brought over Sunday. Slow-roasted at two-eighty for five hours with garlic and rosemary and red wine in a covered Dutch oven. The shoulder is the cut nobody wants and that I love because the long cook turns it into something tender and falling apart and full of the deep iron-and-oak flavor of mountain venison done right. Mom said it was the best venison I had cooked. Patrick had three slices. Tom — who came over for dinner at my invitation — had four. Tom is eighty-one and he eats like a man of forty when the food is right. We ate at the kitchen table at six in the evening with the woodstove going and the wind outside and the cold pressed against the windows, and the conversation went late into territory it does not usually go — Tom told a story about his wife from before her diagnosis, the wife she was in 1968 when they were courting in Helena, the wife she was when she taught second grade in Roundup for thirty years, the wife she was when she could still recognize him in 2019 before the disease accelerated. Tom does not usually tell those stories. He told them Tuesday. Patrick listened. Mom listened. I listened. We did not say much. Tom said, at the end, Anyway, the venison is good. We laughed. He went home.

Saturday cookout was eight men. Marcus made one hundred twenty-two days, four months. We had pulled pork. The temperature was twenty. Pete brought a guitar and played three songs around the fire. He has not brought a guitar in two years. I had forgotten he played. He played quietly, mostly to the coals. The men sang on one of the songs, not well, not loud. The songs were country. The fire was big. The night was long. Marcus said, on his way out, Pete's songs were the best part. I said, Yeah. They were. The fire helps. The venison helps. Tom's story about Mrs. Whelan helps most of all because of what it cost him to tell it.

The venison shoulder was the centerpiece that Tuesday, but what I put out before dinner — while the shoulder finished its last hour in the Dutch oven and Tom was still stomping snow off his boots at the door — was a hot mushroom spread on thick bread, the kind of thing that gives people something to do with their hands while the kitchen fills up with rosemary and woodsmoke and the particular warmth of a house that means it. Tom ate three pieces standing at the counter before he sat down. That is the job of a good appetizer: it tells people they are welcome before anyone has said a word.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 lb cremini or mixed wild mushrooms, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
1/4 cup dry white wine or dry sherry
8 oz cream cheese, softened and cut into pieces
1/4 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Crusty bread, baguette slices, or crackers, for serving

Instructions

Cook the aromatics. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter with the olive oil. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook another minute until fragrant.
Build the mushroom base. Add the chopped mushrooms to the skillet in a single layer as best you can. Resist stirring for the first 3 minutes so they can brown rather than steam. Season with salt and pepper, then stir and continue cooking until the mushrooms have released their liquid and that liquid has cooked off, about 8–10 minutes total.
Deglaze. Pour in the white wine or sherry and scrape up any browned bits from the pan. Cook until the liquid is nearly evaporated, about 2 minutes. Stir in the thyme and Worcestershire sauce.
Melt in the cream cheese. Reduce heat to low. Add the softened cream cheese in pieces, stirring until fully melted and incorporated into the mushroom mixture. Stir in the sour cream until smooth and combined. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Serve warm. Transfer to a small oven-safe dish or cast iron skillet. Keep warm in a 200°F oven until ready to serve, up to 30 minutes. Garnish with fresh parsley and serve with crusty bread or crackers alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Hot Mushroom Spread — Something Warm to Put on the Table