Mushrooms are better with brown butter

As the weather cools, I find myself returning to the kitchen after months of warm-weather reprieve. This dish came about more by happenstance than planning, but I’m deeply grateful for that serendipity.

A few years ago, I wrote about the comforting magic of "soft and pliant" egg noodles, the base for one of my all-time favorite meals: my Nana's cream chicken. I described it as "a steaming bed of freshly boiled egg noodles, the curlicues dancing on the plate, topped with chunks of tender chicken and a blanket of creamy, rich sauce—its color reminiscent of Italian-American vodka sauce, but with flavors rooted in Eastern Europe. Best enjoyed in a large bowl, the sauce suffusing every nook and cranny of the chicken and noodles."

For the longest time, that was the only way I ever ate egg noodles. But one day, tired of the usual side dishes like rice, potatoes or vegetables, I decided to try something simple: egg noodles tossed with butter.

It was . . . sensational.

Over the years, I began experimenting — adding fresh or dried herbs, browning the butter, or tossing in a splash of stock or broth. One evening, while making a sautéed chicken dish with a rich cherry tomato and spinach sauce, I noticed a package of mushrooms languishing in the fridge. They were fast approaching the point of no return. I sliced them quickly and cooked them in a half stick of unsalted butter.

As I’ve written before, mushrooms are like sponges — porous as heck — and they absorb whatever you "feed" them. That day, I was in a brown butter mood, so I cooked the mushrooms until they were deeply crisped and golden, their flavor intensified by the nutty richness of browned butter.

I roughly chopped some parsley, stirred it in, and salted the mixture generously before tossing it with freshly boiled egg noodles and a few extra pats of butter.

Goodness gracious. Let me tell you: I devoured those mushroom egg noodles with far more enthusiasm than the chicken dish they were supposed to accompany. There was an unpretentious joy in the meal. I ate with gusto, going back for seconds of a "side dish" that completely outshone the main course. The combination of butter, mushrooms, noodles, and parsley elevated a humble, pantry-friendly dish to something extraordinary.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

Note: I used parsley because it’s what I had on hand (flat-leaf, Italian-style), but dill — or practically any other herb, fresh or dried—would be just as delicious. European-style unsalted butter adds a little extra richness, but use whatever you have. The mushrooms were baby bellas, or creminis, though any variety will work. As I always say, "It’s your kitchen."

Egg noodles with mushrooms, brown butter and parsley

Yields

4 servings

Prep Time

2 minutes

Cook Time

20 minutes

Ingredients

1 bag egg noodles (I love the No Yolks brand, extra broad variety)

1 stick unsalted butter, divided (or more? I won't tell)

1 pint mushrooms of your choosing, de-stemmed and sliced, but not overly thinly. This is a rustic dish so don't fret about the diameter of your mushroom slices, please.

Bunch of fresh parsley, stems reserved, roughly chopped

Kosher salt

Directions

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. 
2. In a saucepan, melt a half stick of butter and toss in sliced mushrooms. Cook, undisturbed, for 5 to 7 minutes. Toss, stir or other disturb your 'shrooms, stirring them around as your butter gets nutty and browned and your mushrooms take on the butter's characteristics. Do not salt! 
3. As your mushrooms cook, salt water and add egg noodles to boiling water and cook according to package directions. When just shy of al dente, drain in a colander. Return pot to same burner you cooked the noodles on, add pasta back to now-empty pot and turn heat off (the residual heat will help melt the butter later.) 
4. When your mushrooms are sufficiently browned, season with salt and add freshly chopped herbs. Stir well and add to pot with noodles, along with a few more pats of unsalted butter or whatever you have on hand.
5. Taste for seasoning; you might need a little more salt.
6. Serve in large bowls and don't be alarmed when your family or friends nearly bowl you over in a mad rush to eat . . . this smells absurdly good.