Alpine Mushroom Ragù

We’d driven a road with more hairpins than I could count, parked up where the air was thin and the evening came in cold off the rock, and what I wanted was something dark and slow and warming. No butcher for miles, but a roadside stall had mushrooms the size of my hand. This is what they became.

Where the depth comes from

People assume a ragù needs meat to taste of anything. It doesn’t, it needs time and browning. The dried porcini do a lot of heavy lifting here: their soaking liquid is pure savoury depth, almost like a stock cube but real. Brown the fresh mushrooms properly, give it three quarters of an hour it doesn’t strictly need, and nobody at the table asks where the meat is.

Method

1. Cover the porcini with a mugful of just-boiled water and leave them to soak. This is your stock and your secret weapon, so don’t throw the liquid away.
2. Soften the onion, carrot and celery slowly in olive oil with a pinch of salt, a good 10 minutes. Add the garlic for the last minute.
3. Turn up the heat and fry the fresh mushrooms hard until they’ve given up their water and started to brown. Crowding them steams them, so do it in batches if your pan is small.
4. Stir in the purée, pour in the wine and let it bubble away. Add the tomatoes, the chopped porcini, the strained soaking liquid, and the herbs.
5. Simmer low for 30 to 40 minutes until dark and glossy. Season hard, toss through pasta, and grate over far too much cheese.