Wild Mushroom Tartine

Start with the mushrooms. This is where everything lives or dies. Seek out what your market or forager offers: chanterelles with their apricot perfume, hen of the woods with meaty density, or even good cremini if that is what you find. What matters is that they were picked recently enough to smell like the forest floor, earthy and alive.

A tartine is the French answer to the open-faced sandwich, but calling it that misses the point. It is a vehicle for whatever is best right now, piled onto bread that can hold its weight without collapsing. In cooler months, when the woods and farms yield their mushrooms, this is what I want for supper.

The technique is almost nothing. Sear the mushrooms until they give up their water and turn golden. Add garlic and thyme at the end so they stay fragrant instead of bitter. Melt good Gruyere over the top until it bubbles and browns. Let things taste of what they are.

Every meal is a meaningful choice. When you buy mushrooms from someone who foraged them or a farmer who grows them with care, you are keeping that connection alive. The tartine will taste better for it. I promise you this.