
Chef Thomas
A Proper Bacon Sandwich
Back bacon in a hot pan, good white bread, soft salted butter. Ten minutes between waking up and the first bite of something that makes the morning make sense.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by Chef Thomas
Field mushrooms seared in butter with thyme and garlic, piled onto thick toast and eaten standing at the kitchen counter on an October morning when the light is low and the air smells of woodsmoke.
October. The kitchen window is cold to the touch and the light outside is that thin, silver kind that makes everything look like a photograph. This is mushroom weather.
I brought field mushrooms home from the Saturday market last week, the big flat ones with dark gills and a smell like damp earth and something quietly mineral. They sat in a paper bag on the counter until Tuesday morning, when I tore them into rough pieces and cooked them in butter with a clove of garlic and some thyme stripped from the plant by the back door. The butter foamed, went quiet, then started to smell of hazelnuts. The mushrooms caught at the edges and turned golden. The kitchen filled with a smell that made the morning feel serious in the best possible way.
This isn't a recipe, really. It's a reminder. Good mushrooms, real butter, a hot pan, thick toast. Your nose will tell you when it's done. Trust it. There are few better feelings than putting a warm plate in front of someone on a cold morning, and this is ten minutes of your time. We're only making breakfast.
I wrote it down in the notebook afterwards. "Mushrooms. Butter. Thyme. Tuesday. Cold morning. Didn't measure anything. Didn't need to."
Quantity
400g
field, chestnut, chanterelles if available, torn or thickly sliced
Quantity
a generous knob, plus extra for the toast
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
2 cloves
thinly sliced
Quantity
a few sprigs
Quantity
a squeeze
Quantity
2 thick slices
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
small handful
roughly chopped
Quantity
2
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| mixed mushroomsfield, chestnut, chanterelles if available, torn or thickly sliced | 400g |
| unsalted butter | a generous knob, plus extra for the toast |
| olive oil | 1 tablespoon |
| garlicthinly sliced | 2 cloves |
| fresh thyme | a few sprigs |
| lemon juice | a squeeze |
| sourdough or good white bread | 2 thick slices |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| flat-leaf parsleyroughly chopped | small handful |
| eggs (optional) | 2 |
Tear the larger mushrooms into rough pieces with your hands. Halve or quarter the smaller ones. You want irregular shapes, not neat slices, because the torn edges catch the heat and go crisp and golden in ways a knife cut never will. Leave any small ones whole. Give them a brush if they're dirty, but don't wash them. Wet mushrooms steam instead of frying, and steamed mushrooms are a sad thing.
Put a wide, heavy pan over a high heat with the oil and half the butter. Wait. This matters more than anything else in the recipe. The pan needs to be properly hot, not warm, hot. You'll know because the butter will foam, spit once, and start to smell toasty. That's your moment. If you add the mushrooms to a lukewarm pan, they'll leak water and stew. A hot pan sears them. The difference is everything.
Tumble the mushrooms into the hot pan and spread them out. Now leave them alone. Two or three minutes without stirring. Let the undersides catch colour. When you see the edges turning golden and the kitchen starts to smell like autumn, give them a turn. Add the remaining butter, the sliced garlic, and the thyme sprigs. Toss everything together. The garlic needs a minute, no more, just enough to soften and lose its raw bite. Season generously with salt and pepper. Taste one. Adjust.
While the mushrooms finish, toast your bread until it's properly golden and firm enough to hold what's coming. Thick slices. Butter them while they're still hot, so the butter melts into the bread and disappears.
Squeeze a little lemon juice into the pan, just enough to lift things, not enough to taste sour. Scatter the parsley through and stir once. Pile the mushrooms onto the buttered toast, letting the pan juices soak into the bread. All of them. Don't leave anything behind in the pan. Eat immediately. If you're adding an egg, fry it in the mushroom pan while the toast is going, so it picks up all the butter and thyme left behind. Set it on top. Let the yolk run into everything.
1 serving (about 300g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Thomas
Back bacon in a hot pan, good white bread, soft salted butter. Ten minutes between waking up and the first bite of something that makes the morning make sense.

Chef Thomas
Tinned beans warmed with butter and Worcestershire, spooned over thick toast and topped with a fried egg. The meal that half the country falls back on when the day asks nothing more of them.

Chef Thomas
Oats soaked overnight in milk and cream with grated apple and lemon, then spooned into bowls and buried under whatever the orchard and the hedgerow are offering this week.

Chef Thomas
Thick slices of black pudding fried crisp in butter, served alongside sharp apple wedges softened in the same pan. A cold-morning breakfast that smells like someone is paying attention.