Marvelous Mushroom Soup

December. The school is doing its annual holiday concert, which is a secular event that manages to be both inoffensive and uninspiring, a carefully curated selection of winter-themed music that avoids religious content so thoroughly that it ends up celebrating nothing, which is a particular kind of American compromise that Irving would have found both prudent and depressing. I attend because my students perform and because supporting the school community is part of the job description, even when the job description is not explicitly stated.

Hanukkah begins on the 22nd this year — late Hanukkah, which means it overlaps with Christmas break, which means the Feldman-specific holiday preparations can happen without the competing demands of school. I have already purchased candles for the menorah and begun the mental inventory of Hanukkah foods: latkes, of course, always latkes, and sufganiyot (the jelly donuts fried in oil, because oil is the theme, oil is the miracle, oil is the reason we eat fried food for eight nights and do not apologize). I will make Sylvia's latkes — grated potatoes, onion, egg, flour, salt, fried in vegetable oil until the edges are lacy and brown and the center is hot and creamy. The latkes are not difficult. The latkes are ancient. The latkes are the food of a miracle, and I make them with the reverence of a woman who believes in the miracle, even when the evidence of miracles is thin.

Marvin had a visit from David on Saturday — David alone, without the children, which means it was a medical visit disguised as a social one. I know this because I know my son, and David without children is David with an agenda, and the agenda this week was assessing his father. He checked Marvin's medications. He watched Marvin move through the house. He sat with Marvin and talked and noted what Marvin could and couldn't do, and then he talked to me in the kitchen while Marvin napped, and we had the conversation we've been having for a year: how long, how much longer, when do we have to make the decision. David didn't say "facility." He said "additional support." I said, "Not yet." He said, "Okay, Mom." The "Mom" at the end was the important word. Not "okay." "Mom." He is still my son. He is also my husband's doctor. Holding both is his burden. I try to make it lighter. I make soup.

I said to David, “Not yet,” and then he left and Marvin slept and I stood in the kitchen with nothing to do with my hands. The latkes will come on the 22nd, with the candles and the oil and the miracle I still believe in — but that afternoon I needed something that could simmer, something that asked nothing of me except time and attention, which I had. This mushroom soup is what I made. It is earthy and deep and it fills the kitchen with a smell that says: someone here is being cared for. That was enough.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 pounds cremini or baby bella mushrooms, sliced
4 ounces shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, caps sliced
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 cup dry sherry or dry white wine
5 cups vegetable or chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Sauté the aromatics. In a large heavy-bottomed pot, melt butter with olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Cook the mushrooms. Add all the mushrooms to the pot in a single layer as best you can. Resist stirring for the first 3–4 minutes so they can brown. Then stir and continue cooking until mushrooms have released their liquid and it has mostly evaporated, about 10 minutes total. Season with thyme, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper.
Build the base. Sprinkle flour over the mushroom mixture and stir to coat. Cook 1–2 minutes to eliminate the raw flour taste. Pour in the sherry or wine and stir, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Cook until the liquid is mostly absorbed, about 2 minutes.
Simmer the soup. Add the broth and stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes, allowing the flavors to deepen and the soup to thicken slightly.
Finish with cream. Stir in the heavy cream and simmer gently for 5 more minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. For a partially smooth texture, use an immersion blender to blend about one-third of the soup directly in the pot, then stir to combine — this gives body without losing the mushroom pieces.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley. Serve with crusty bread or alongside whatever else you are making that night.

Nutrition (per serving)

Marvelous Mushroom Soup — The Soup I Make When Words Run Out