Cèpes à la Provençale

Cèpes à la Provençale (porcini sautéed in the Provençal manner) teaches the discipline of a hot pan. Mushrooms must bronze in oil before they release enough water to stew themselves. Dry them, leave room around them, and wait for the hiss to sharpen. That is the one true thing to know before touching the pan.

The original formula assumed a cook tossing a half-pound service portion and a timbale waiting warm. This entry needs no saucier, stockpot, or salamander; its brigade scaffolding is simply that small pan and formal serving vessel. At home, a 12-inch skillet used in two uncrowded batches and a warm shallow bowl do the same work. The book's half-pound proportion is doubled for four side servings: one pound of caps takes two ounces of stalks, two teaspoons of onion, two tablespoons of breadcrumbs, and half a small garlic clove for the requested mite. The timbale can go. The very hot oil, late aromatics and crumbs, lemon, and parsley must stay.

Cooked properly, the cèpes arrive bronzed and succulent, with crisp edges, parsley caught in their folds, and only enough lemon to wake the earthiness. The breadcrumbs don't form a crust; they collect excess oil so the mushrooms remain glossy rather than greasy. One cook, one stove, one evening. The decisive step is the first sauté: give the cèpes space and let them frizzle before the onion and garlic ever enter.