September 14th. Eight years. I went to Holy Sepulchre before school — 6:30 AM, the cemetery just opening, the morning still cool, the kind of September morning that Jess would have said was worth getting up for. I brought sunflowers. I always bring sunflowers. I stood at her grave for longer than usual this year because I had more to tell her, and because this is the first September 14th since Babcia Rose died and I needed to tell Jess about that too.
I told her about the twins, who are almost two. I told her about the NICU and the slow cooker meals and the one-handed cooking post she would have found either brilliant or mortifying, probably both. I told her about Babcia Rose, about the golabki on the stove, about the notebook in my kitchen drawer, about how I finished what she started because it was the right thing to do. I told her I think about her more now, not less, because I have more to tell her.
I talked to Jess for about fifteen minutes and then drove to school. I taught my twenty students and I was present for all of them and at lunch I sat in my classroom and ate the mushroom soup I had brought in a thermos and I thought about the year I started making mushroom soup on September 14th, which was the first September 14th, when I was twenty-one and the loss was so new I did not know how to be in a body that was still alive without her. I know now. I have been learning for eight years.
Ryan made dinner that night. Without being asked, without a plan. He made pasta with marinara and he had two candles on the table and he said "for Jess" when I sat down and that was the whole acknowledgment, which is the right acknowledgment, which is exactly the right amount. The candles burned through dinner and the pasta was good and I said thank you, which covered more than the pasta.
The mushroom soup in the thermos started the year I was twenty-one, and it has never stopped — but this year, after dinner with Ryan and the candles burning for Jess, I wanted something I could actually make for the table instead of eating alone in my classroom. Portobello Mushrooms Florentine felt right: earthy and warm, the kind of dish that doesn’t ask anything of you except to sit down and eat it. Jess would have appreciated that. She always said the best food was the kind that felt like it already knew what you needed.
Portobello Mushrooms Florentine
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 large portobello mushroom caps, stems removed and wiped clean
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 5 oz fresh baby spinach (about 4 cups loosely packed)
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 1/2 cup ricotta cheese
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for topping
- 1 egg, lightly beaten
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
- 1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
- Fresh thyme or parsley for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Brush both sides of the portobello caps with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and place gill-side up on the prepared baking sheet. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
- Pre-roast the mushrooms. Roast the mushroom caps for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and carefully blot any excess moisture from the caps with a paper towel — this keeps the filling from getting watery.
- Cook the spinach filling. While mushrooms roast, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add garlic and cook 1 minute until fragrant. Add spinach and red pepper flakes, tossing until wilted, about 2–3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer to a colander and press out as much liquid as possible, then roughly chop.
- Make the Florentine filling. In a medium bowl, combine the chopped spinach, ricotta, Parmesan, beaten egg, and nutmeg. Stir until well mixed. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Fill and top. Spoon the filling evenly into each mushroom cap, mounding it slightly. Sprinkle shredded mozzarella over the top of each, then add a little extra Parmesan.
- Bake until golden. Return mushrooms to the oven and bake for 12–15 minutes, until the filling is set and the cheese is melted and lightly golden. For extra color, broil for the last 1–2 minutes, watching closely.
- Rest and serve. Let the mushrooms rest for 3–4 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh thyme or parsley if desired. Serve warm as a main or alongside crusty bread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 245 | Protein: 15g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg