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Mushroom —Carnitas” -- The Cabinet Mushrooms That Started It All

The leaves began to turn this week — not yet at peak but unmistakably moving, the maples on the road in showing real color now, the birches beginning their yellow, the oaks holding on as oaks do. I drove out to the overlook on Route 12 Wednesday afternoon for the first foliage viewing of the year — alone this time, Owen having been at school — and stood for the usual twenty minutes looking at three counties of color and feeling the small annual recognition that the season is doing what it does and that I am here to see it for the seventy-second consecutive autumn.

Made a beef barley soup Saturday — the first proper fall soup, beef chuck cut small and seared hard, then onion and carrot and celery, then barley and broth and the dried mushrooms from the cabinet. The soup cooked for three hours and I ate it for three nights, the barley thickening the broth in the way it always does. Beef barley is the soup that announces the cooking calendar has shifted into the heavier register, the long simmers and the slow braises and the patient suppers of the cold months. The shift always feels like a relief, the lightness of summer cooking giving way to the depth of autumn cooking, the body responding to the cooler weather with an appetite for the heavier dishes.

Ben called Sunday from Portland — he had assigned the Helprin novel to his juniors three weeks ago and the first wave of reactions had come in. About a third of the students had stopped reading by chapter ten. About a third were keeping pace and engaged. The remaining third had read ahead and were impatient for the discussion. Ben wanted to know what to do about the bottom third. I told him: do not punish them and do not let them off. Hold the standard. The ones who are not reading will either start reading or they will not. The ones who do start, late, having seen that the discussion is happening without them, will get something out of starting late that the early readers will not. He was quiet for a moment. He said: that's a useful frame. We talked for half an hour about the rest of his teaching and his classroom and the small constant negotiations of being twenty-eight and standing at the front of a room full of seventeen-year-olds, which is one of the most demanding jobs a young person can take on and which I have never told Ben I admire him for, because telling people you admire them is not a Bergstrom habit, but I admire him.

Those dried mushrooms I mentioned — the ones pulled from the cabinet for the barley soup — got me thinking about how much weight a good mushroom carries when the cooking calendar shifts into autumn. This recipe puts the mushroom itself at the center rather than the background: shredded, seared hard the way I seared that chuck, and finished with citrus in a way that keeps the depth without losing the brightness. It’s the kind of patient, low-fuss cooking that the cooler months call for, and it rewards the same attention I was telling Ben to hold his students to — don’t rush it, and the ones that are ready will show you.

Mushroom “Carnitas”

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs oyster mushrooms or king oyster mushrooms, hand-shredded into thin strips
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
  • 1/3 cup fresh orange juice (about 1 orange)
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
  • 1 teaspoon soy sauce or tamari
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • Black pepper to taste
  • Fresh cilantro, sliced radishes, and warm tortillas, for serving

Instructions

  1. Shred the mushrooms. Using your hands, pull the mushrooms apart into long, thin strips roughly 1/4-inch wide. Smaller pieces will crisp; longer ones will stay tender — the variation is good.
  2. Sear in batches. Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large cast-iron or heavy skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add mushrooms in a single layer — do not crowd the pan. Cook undisturbed for 4 to 5 minutes until deeply browned on one side, then stir and cook another 3 minutes. Work in two batches if needed. Transfer to a plate.
  3. Build the spice base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and the garlic to the pan and cook, stirring, for 1 minute until fragrant. Add cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, oregano, and cayenne and stir for 30 seconds until the spices bloom and smell toasty.
  4. Return and glaze. Return the seared mushrooms to the pan. Pour in the orange juice, lime juice, and soy sauce. Stir well to coat. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for 6 to 8 minutes until the liquid has mostly absorbed and the mushrooms look lacquered and sticky.
  5. Final crisp. Spread the mushrooms into an even layer and raise the heat to medium-high. Leave them alone for 2 to 3 minutes to pick up a final sear on the bottom. Season with salt and pepper, taste, and adjust with more lime if needed.
  6. Serve. Pile onto warm tortillas with fresh cilantro and sliced radishes. A few shakes of hot sauce and a wedge of lime alongside are not optional, in this kitchen.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 155 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 390mg

Walter Bergstrom
About the cook who shared this
Walter Bergstrom
Week 497 of Walter’s 30-year story · Burlington, Vermont
Walt is a seventy-three-year-old retired high school history teacher from Burlington, Vermont — a Vietnam veteran, a widower, and a grandfather of five who cooks New England comfort food in the same kitchen where his wife Margaret made bread every Saturday for forty years. He lost Margaret to a stroke in 2021, and now he bakes her bread himself, not because he's good at it but because the smell fills the house and for an hour she's still there.

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