Stuffed Asiago-Basil Mushrooms

Week 492, and the tomatoes ripening, the corn arriving, the garden in full production, the heat in the kitchen. I am 68 years old and the days have a rhythm now — the morning writing, the afternoon visits to Cedarhurst, the evening cooking, the weekly blog post — and the rhythm is the structure, and the structure is the sanity, and the sanity is required because the rest of it, the losing and the loving and the carrying, requires a sane woman at the helm, and I am sane, mostly, except when I cry in the car in the Cedarhurst parking lot, which is not insanity but its opposite: the specific, targeted release of emotion in a contained space, which is the most rational thing I do all week.

Thanksgiving for 14; grandchildren all have jobs; food perfect; photo at place. These are the facts of the week, the data points, the things I would put in a report if I were writing a report, which I am not — I am writing a life, and the life includes the facts but is not limited to them, because the life also includes the way the kitchen smells at six in the morning when the coffee is brewing and the challah is rising and the house is quiet and the quiet is both the grief and the peace, simultaneously, and the simultaneous is the condition, the permanent condition of a woman who is 68 and alone and not alone, who is a grandmother and a wife and a writer and a cook and a caregiver and all of these things at once, always at once, braided together like the challah.

I made turkey and full spread this week — because it was what the week needed, because the week always needs something and the something is always food, and the food is always the answer, and the answer is always the kitchen, and the kitchen is always mine, and the mine-ness of the kitchen is the one thing that has not changed in sixty-seven years of living, from Sylvia's kitchen on the Grand Concourse to this kitchen in Oceanside where I stand every morning and every evening and many of the hours in between, making the food that is the chain, that is the love, that is the thing I do when I don't know what else to do, which is always, and especially now.

I brought food to Marvin at the usual time. The visit was what visits are now — quiet, steady, the feeding by hand when necessary, the reading aloud always, the holding of the hand that may or may not know it is being held but that is warm and alive and present, which is the definition of love in this particular year: warm and alive and present. He ate what I brought. He received what I gave. The receiving is the relationship. The receiving is the vow. In sickness and in health, in recognition and in forgetting, in the recliner and in the kitchen, the receiving is the marriage, and the marriage continues, one container at a time, one visit at a time, one day at a time, at two o'clock, every day, because the chain does not break.

When you are feeding fourteen people and the kitchen has been running since six in the morning, you need dishes that hold — that sit on the table and stay beautiful and welcome people before the turkey even arrives. These Stuffed Asiago-Basil Mushrooms have been part of my full spread for years now, the kind of thing that disappears first even though everyone claims they’re saving room. This Thanksgiving, with all the grandchildren home and the kitchen full of noise and hands and love, I made a double batch — because this is what the week required, and the week always tells you exactly what it requires, if you listen.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 22 minutes | Total Time: 42 minutes | Servings: 14 (as appetizer)

Ingredients

28 large cremini or white button mushrooms (about 2 lbs), stems removed and reserved
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup finely chopped yellow onion
1/3 cup plain dry breadcrumbs
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1 cup freshly grated Asiago cheese, divided
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, finely chopped
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of crushed red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. Wipe mushroom caps clean with a damp cloth and arrange them cavity-side up on the prepared pan.
Cook the filling base. Finely chop the reserved mushroom stems. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring, for 3 to 4 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and chopped mushroom stems and cook another 3 to 4 minutes, until any liquid has evaporated and the mixture is dry. Remove from heat and let cool for 5 minutes.
Build the stuffing. In a medium bowl, combine the cream cheese, 3/4 cup of the Asiago, the breadcrumbs, basil, parsley, salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Add the cooled mushroom-stem mixture and stir until fully combined.
Fill the caps. Using a small spoon, mound the filling generously into each mushroom cap, pressing lightly so it holds. Drizzle with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and sprinkle the tops with the remaining 1/4 cup of Asiago.
Roast. Bake on the center rack for 18 to 22 minutes, until the mushrooms are tender, the filling is set, and the tops are golden and bubbling. Let rest 5 minutes before serving — they hold their heat well and are even better after a short rest.

Nutrition (per serving)

Stuffed Asiago-Basil Mushrooms — The Thing You Bring When the Table Is Already Full