Crispy Satay-Flavored Mushroom Cigars with Thai Sweet Chilli Sauce, Charlie Brown, and I

Lucy: Aren't the clouds beautiful? They look like big balls of cotton. I could just lie here all day and watch them drift by. If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the cloud formations. What do you think you see, Linus?

Linus: Well, those clouds up there look to me like the map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean. [points up] That cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor. And that group of clouds over there ... [points] ... gives me the impression of the Stoning of Stephen. I can see the Apostle Paul standing there to one side.

Lucy: Uh huh. That's very good. What do you see in the clouds, Charlie Brown?

Charlie Brown: Well ... I was going to say I saw a duckie and a horsie, but I changed my mind.*




Since my buddy Mel of Gourmet Fury and I started co-hosting Beet n Squash YOU!, our monthly vegetable-themed food "fight," in November 2009, we have been dazzled by the ingenuity and talent that the participants have shown through their entries. Check out past records of our previous battles and you'll see what I mean.

I don't know about you, but sometimes that makes me a bit insecure.

You see, I'm all about simple dishes.

That's one of the reasons this blog is called shesimmers.com instead of shemakeslavendermacaronswithwhiteteainfusedganachetoppedwithgoldleaves.com, shecookselbulli.com, or shemakesmultielementdisheseveryday.com.

Simmering is easy. You throw stuff into a pot and simmer till done. Culinarily speaking, that's about how far I'm willing to go on a daily basis, really.

If you've been a regular reader of this blog, you already know that. If you're not familiar with this blog, well, feel free to dig into the archives and you'll see. Only once in a while do I whip up something that requires more than one or two steps of preparation like a liver mousse with gelée. But even that is considered novice-friendly. My philosophy: if it leaves many bowls and dishes to clean afterward, I don't make it.


Another thing which you've seen me do quite a bit of is making one dish and turning it into countless different things. As you'll soon realize, these crispy mushroom cigars are a spin-off of something else we've seen before. I like it better that way. What about you?

But then when I look around and see what other people make, I, like Charlie Brown, get a bit insecure about my duckies and horsies. I'm sure we'll see many awe-inspiring dishes from other participants, so I thought I would turn in my duckie early before being struck down by the try-too-hard-to-impress disease which had caused public embarrassment more than once before.


These mushroom cigars are the epitome of cheap and easy. I take slices of soft white bread and trim off the crusts, roll them paper thin, spread a mushroom filling on them, roll them up, and bake them until golden brown and crispy all over. That's about it.

But first, bread: Go for white and cheap. I wouldn't recommend white sandwich bread if you were to have an expensive picnic of Jamón ibérico and imported yak-milk cheeses. But for this very purpose, what's the point of using crusty artisan ciabatta from La Brea or Acme? Use Wonder bread. Better yet, use store-brand white sandwich bread.

Take 16 slices of cheap white bread, trim off the crusts, and roll them paper-thin with a rolling pin. Your bread slices should look like they've been run over by a truck. Crush them with all of your body weight when rolling them out; apply no mercy.


Filling: Again, if you're making marinated mushrooms, mushrooms baked en papillote, mushroom stir-fry, or anything where texture or aroma means a great deal, I would recommend that you use expensive wild mushrooms. In this case, we grind the mushrooms to a paste, and that has rendered the texture issue moot. Go for the cheapest white button mushrooms. Wash and dry 16 ounces of mushrooms, then grind them up finely in a food processor.


Saute the ground up mushrooms plus 2 teaspoons of salt in a wide skillet over medium heat just to dry them out. Mushroom releases tons of moisture so you will start off with very wet mushroom purée. But it will bubble its way to become a pâté-like, thick paste in 10 minutes or so. That's when you take the mushroom paste off the heat, add 1/2 cup of my mother's Thai peanut sauce to it, and mix well.

About the mushroom filling: one look at it and you'll be glad it's hidden inside the bready scrolls. This mushroom filling is ugly, very ugly. It's gray, gooey, and hideous. In fact, if your mushroom filling looks appetizing, you must have done something wrong.


Now get over the unsightliness of your filling and preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a cookie sheet with a piece of parchment paper. (Don't use a Silpat; it keeps the cigars from crisping up evenly.)

Spread 2 tablespoonfuls of the mushroom filling onto each slice bread which has been brutally flattened. Make sure the filling is evenly distributed. Roll up the bread slice like you do a cigar, not that I've ever done that.

Place the cigars seam-side down on the prepared cookie sheet, leaving at least one inch of space around each one to ensure even browning. Press down on them a little just to secure the seams. Brush or spray the outsides of the cigars with olive oil and bake for 30 minutes or until they are browned and crispy. Try to keep an eye on the cigars during the last 10 minutes to make sure they don't burn.

Serve the cigars with either Thai sweet chilli sauce or Thai Sriracha (ศรีราชา ) sauce, or both. This recipe makes 16 chubby satay-flavored mushroom-filled cigars as an entry for Battle Mushrooms.





*Charles M. Schulz, A Boy Named Charlie Brown, 1969. (Source)