Stuffed Mushrooms with Crabmeat

The week after publication, and the book is in the world — in bookstores in Charleston, in the library system (my library system, my former colleagues shelving my book, the irony and the honor indistinguishable), in the hands of readers I will never meet and whose reading is the book's purpose. The purpose is not fame. The purpose is not money. The purpose is the preservation of Carolyn Simmons's cooking, which is the preservation of Carolyn Simmons, which is the thing I have been doing for nine years and that is now, finally, done in the most permanent form available: a book.

The Charleston County Library hosted a reading on Saturday. The auditorium was full — three hundred people, including former colleagues, church friends, patrons I have known for thirty years, strangers who read about the event in the paper. I stood at the podium and I read from Chapter One — the she-crab soup chapter, the first chapter, the thesis — and the reading was the first time Mama's voice (my voice, carrying Mama's words) filled a room that was not the kitchen, and the filling was the gift, and the gift was the book, and the book was the reading, and the reading was the life I dreamed of at fourteen and that I am living at fifty-two.

A woman approached me after the reading. She was eighty, maybe older. She held the book against her chest and she said, "I lost my mother ten years ago. I read your book and I could taste her cooking again." The sentence broke me. The breaking was the purpose. The purpose was achieved.

Catherine Wells said the first print run sold out. A second printing has been ordered. The numbers are small — this is a small press, a small book, a small audience — but the small is sufficient, because the sufficient is enough, and the enough is the goal, and the goal was never bestseller. The goal was preservation. And the preservation is complete.

I made she-crab soup. I made it after the reading, at ten PM, standing at the stove in the kitchen where the book was born, and I tasted the soup and I tasted the book and I tasted Mama and the three were one.

She-crab soup was the book’s first chapter and the night’s last act — but when I think about what I want to share here, what feels right to carry out of that kitchen and into yours, it is this: stuffed mushrooms with crabmeat, a dish Mama made for every gathering worth remembering, the one she called “the appetizer that eats like a love letter.” The woman at the reading held my book against her chest and said she could taste her mother again, and I understood that completely, because crab done right — sweet, coastal, honest — is exactly the kind of flavor that collapses the distance between the living and the gone. Make these on a quiet night, or a full one. Either way, the crab will do what it does.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

18 large cremini or white button mushrooms, stems removed and reserved
8 oz lump crabmeat, picked over for shells
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for topping
2 tablespoons finely chopped green onions
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley, for garnish

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. Wipe mushroom caps clean with a damp cloth and arrange them cavity-side up on the prepared pan.
Make the filling. Finely chop the reserved mushroom stems. In a medium bowl, combine the softened cream cheese and mayonnaise, stirring until smooth. Fold in the crabmeat, chopped mushroom stems, Parmesan, green onions, lemon juice, Old Bay, garlic powder, and black pepper. Mix gently so the crab stays in recognizable pieces.
Fill the caps. Spoon the crabmeat mixture generously into each mushroom cap, mounding it slightly above the rim. Brush the exposed mushroom edges with melted butter. Sprinkle a little extra Parmesan over the tops.
Bake. Bake for 18 to 22 minutes, until the mushrooms are tender and the filling is golden and bubbling at the edges. The tops should be lightly browned.
Rest and garnish. Allow the mushrooms to rest for 5 minutes before serving — the filling will be very hot. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Stuffed Mushrooms with Crabmeat — The Taste That Brought Three Into One