There isn't much you can do wrong with a mushroom. Some love them (me) some can't get past their apparent sliminess (weirdos) some just go with the flow. As their true wild season comes to a close, one last blast today is in order. Mushrooms on toast for breakfast and a slow braised beef casserole with fat handfuls of every variety I'm able to get my hands on is a fitting Sunday any which way you look at it.
Sunday breakfast has to be where the weekend makes any sense, and filling the house with the smell of sauteed mushrooms, toasted bread and fresh coffee cannot fail to get the day rolling just nicely as in Plan A. Lightly toasted focaccia just because it soaks everything up like the most delicious edible sponge. A pile of evenly sized of the harder mushrooms like pied bleu, hedgehogs and even buttons and chestnuts. Butter, a tiny splash of cream at the end. A fat pinch of really good salt and plenty chopped parsley and black pepper.
Beef will go on shortly and cook throught the day. I'm looking at a fist full of ceps to go with diced shin and a load of garlic, shallots and thyme. A decent bit of red wine in nice and early, maybe spiked with a hit of chilli, and probably farted about with a bit more still. More on all that as soon as I've snoozed off breakfast and pretended to read the Sunday papers.