Today , it being the first day after rain in the Languedoc for the bones of six weeks, we decided to go up to a place we know (neither wild horses nor thumbscrews would persuade me to divulge its location) to see if we could find some Ceps (my favourite mushroom and even possibly my favourite food of all time .)

This year we took an advantage with us.
Síle’s brother Colm , he from whom no flora remains hidden.
(It paid off.)

We arrived back with over a kilo of god’s own mushroom.
(all found by Colm)

Fantastic.

We had them for supper, very possibly (we all agreed) one of our best suppers ever.
Here’s what the chef did.

First I put on about a quarter kilo per person of potatoes to steam.
Then the Ceps were cleaned and sliced and fried-gently in butter with a scrape (a small clove, squashed and then removed at the last moment) of garlic, a squeeze of lemon and a whole heap of butter, salt and black pepper , until just soft – and then kept them warm.
Then I pushed the pots through a sieve (or mashed them very carefully) with milk butter salt and pepper and put them somewhere warm.
In the meantime I grilled three rashers (streakys please for best flavour) per person until crisp and then kept them warm.

Now (and in that pan) I fried in the minimum of two eggs per person until just set .

On each persons plate put a generous spoon of potato, put on top the rashers and the eggs , and then spoon over the ceps.

A Feast Fit For a King.

NB. We took the ceps into the chemist for verification before eating, a free and essential service here in France.