Leek and Mushroom Pie

Preparation: 1-2 days before melting the butter:

Find a Swedish person, and catch him.  Give him an old hat and send him off into the forest.  When he emerges, the hat will be full of wild mushrooms.

Crust:

Melt 2 Tbl butter. Stir in 3/4 cup finely ground walnuts, and 1/2 cup Italian bread crumbs.

Press into an oiled 8 inch round pan (cake pan or pie pan).

Heart of the matter: 

Melt some more butter (or use olive oil if your guilt over the rest of this recipe is too severe) and fry 2 small finely chopped leeks, 2 cloves of garlic, 1 Tablespoon of fresh thyme, and 1 hat (~2-3 cups) of mushrooms until nice (reserve hat for future Swedes).

Blend:

8 ounces of ricotta cheese
8 ounces cream cheese

1/2 cup grated Pecornino Romano cheese

2 eggs yolks

2 egg whites, beaten to stiff peaks

Salt, Pepper & freshly grated Nutmeg

Fold in the two stiffly beaten egg whites, and onion and mushrooms

Spoon onto crust

Sprinkle with chopped parsley (not necessary -- just for vanity's sake).

Bake at 325 for 1 hour to a wild infusion of nyckelharpa* until the pie is set and the mushrooms have stopped dancing.

Nyckelharpa, by Fredrick Soderstrom

Nice with a salad involving mixed greens, figs, pears and blue cheese, rice vinegar, olive oil.  Why not?

*No, nyckelharpa cannot be purchased from speciality food stores, but you can get it on youtube: The Dragonship, Vasen & the Duo

Nyckleharpa was what Linneaus would have listened from time to time when he went to the pub on a cold winter night, with Northwind on percussion. History seems to be a bit vague regarding whether or not he liked it.

Carolus Linnaeus

 

      When I visited my friend Ulf in Uppsala last fall he took me mushroom hunting with this sons. Mushrooms were gathered in the forest, plucked from their mushroom nests of moss and granite. The forest was cool and green, with sunlight on birch leaf, pine scent in autumn air. Sparer than I had dreamed they would be, these were welcoming woods that you could move though, get comfortably (and easily) lost in, as you wound your way looking down to the earth in hopes of mushroom sightings. The mushrooms companionably grow in little mushroom groves; by spotting one you can take its near kin and family. I couldn’t see the mushrooms very well, small and dark on the forest floor, trying to look inconspicuous.  Ulf’s gracious and beautiful sons would stand look intently at a spot, for me to follow their gaze and have the illusion of the delight of the discovery.  (They also let me carry the bag; they are men of huge heart.) 

     The mushrooms were being cooked up for dinner that night at the home of Ulf’s son Nils.  Nils is a quiet man of many talents, among them being a brilliant cook and neurosurgeon in training when he isn't busy painting. Thats just the kind of guy he is. The mushrooms we gathered that day, earth scented, tasty, were served with a reindeer stew and a lingonberry sauce. They were perfect. As we were walking down the street towards Nil’s house, following the promise of mushrooms on the evening air, a gentleman on an old bike came riding by, with a violin dangling from the handle-bars.  He knew Ulf, so stopped to say hello.  I asked where he was going with the violin -- turned out the annual Uppsala Swedish Traditional Music Festival was that night.  I dragged Ulf over to it after dinner.  Hundreds of nyckleharpas, fiddles and clarinets (clarinets, no kidding), were there, being played in small circles of musicians.  I had never met a nyckleharpa before.  It was love at first note.  Ulf got his friend to set down his violin and dance with me.  Strut strut strut some random number of struts. Chin high. Strutting like you mean it.  Then, when this partner of mine was so moved, he would break into brief bouts of wild spinning involving foot-weaving. Very tricky for a novice. After tripping, apparently a key part of the dance for beginners, more strutting was done to allow one to breathe.

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