Ingredients:

3 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp cumin seeds
2 bay leaves
1 large piece cinnamon stick
2 black cardamom pods, lightly crushed
6 black peppercorns
6 green cardamom pods, lightly crushed
4 cloves
1 small onion, roughly chopped
large handful raw cashew nuts, whole
200 g / 7 oz fresh wild mushrooms (girolles, morels, ceps, oyster mushrooms, etc, wiped clean with damp kitchen towel, and cleaned of any grit)
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
salt, to taste
300 g / 10½ oz basmati rice, washed well and soaked (soak the rice while you chop the mushrooms)
390 ml / 13¾ fl oz water
1 tsp lemon juice, or to taste

Directions:

Heat the oil in a large wide saucepan. Add the whole spices, cook for 20 seconds then add the onion and cashew nuts. Be careful as they may splatter a bit. Fry for about 4-5 minutes, until the onions are soft and browning at the edges.

Add the mushrooms, garlic and salt and sauté over a high heat for 4-5 minutes. Drain the rice that's been soaking and add to the pan along with the 390 ml / 13¾ fl oz water, bring to the boil then cover and lower the heat to very low and cook for ten minutes.

After ten minutes, check a grain of rice to see if it is tender. If not, leave for another minute. Take off the heat, remove the lid and allow any excess moisture to evaporate. Gently stir in the lemon juice, taste and adjust seasoning if necessary and stir gently with a fork.

The simple mushroom is used in cooking all over the world and lends itself handsomely to
the Indian style of cuisine. Personally I like to lightly cook the mushrooms so they just pick up the exotic flavor of the sauce.

Here, the mashed bean curd is shaped into halved pear-shape pieces resembling the celebrated Chinese musical instrument the pi pa.

During the slow braising of this dish, the dark soy sauce, enriched by sugar, permeates the boiled gluten and dyes it red. The bamboo shoots give a contrasting texture to the spongy gluten and tender mushrooms. In keeping with the Buddhist tradition of vegetarian food, neither ginger, garlic, scallions, nor wine is used.

A delicately flavored steamed dish much enjoyed by the Cantonese and Fukienese. The egg white lightens the pork, and the bamboo shoots or water chestnuts add just a bite to the otherwise smooth texture. The sauce glistens on the stuffing, giving a transparent effect.

In Fukien, this dish is made from fresh winter bamboo shoots, but in the West we have to be content with the canned product, which, fortunately, retains much of its characteristic crispness.

Dried abalone, which ranks with shark’s fin and bird’s nest in gastronomic prestige, is sadly out of the question for most people’s pockets; these days canned abalone graces even the best tables. Although it lacks the depth of taste found in dried abalone, its subtle taste and slightly chewy texture satisfy the palate of many a gourmet.

The tender wonton wrappers, deep-fried to a crisp before being dunked in the soup, lend special character to this dish. The color of the ingredients, suspended in the clear soup, is especially attractive.

This soup is a hearty blend of brown lentils, vegetables, and a variety of mushrooms. I love the texture because each bite is wonderfully chewy. The scallions, parsley, and thyme finish it with a burst of green crunchiness. This is my dad’s favorite soup. I always drop off a quart for him the day I make it. I usually check later to see how he and my mom liked it, but then I learn that my mom never even got one bite of it!

This hearty soup updates the recipe that many of us remember, unhappily, as a bowl of brown mush. Instead of those blah button mushrooms, I decided to use portobellos, shiitakes, chanterelles, and enokis. Each type contributes a different texture. I also enriched the basic stock with tomato paste and red wine. Best of all, I cook the barley for no more than an hour, which leaves it with some spring in its bite.

Mushrooms play a starring role in our kitchen during the autumn months.We look for specialty varieties, such as floppy-brimmed shiitakes, trumpet-shaped chanterelles, and feathery-looking hen of the woods. I like to use a combination of wild mushrooms in this bisque. It makes an appealing first course for an elegant Thanksgiving or Christmas meal.

The first time I ever tried hot and sour soup, I was twelve years old. My sister, Janie, and I walked from our house to our favorite local Chinese restaurant, Seven Star Mandarin, for lunch. Janie, fourteen, was in charge of ordering. She told me that we were getting this crazy-looking soup and to just eat it instead of asking a million questions about it. “You’ll love it,” she insisted. The soup was like nothing I had ever tasted and it was even better than Janie had predicted. Ever since then, I’ve been hooked on this Chinese combination of opposing flavors and textures—hot pepper, tangy vinegar, crunchy lily buds, velvety eggs.

If you’re tempted to walk up to a seafood counter and pick out one thing from each display, try this stew. A take-off on French bouillabaisse, it combines six kinds of seafood in a tomato and saffron-enhanced broth. There’s not any racy story behind its name. I was just trying to emphasize its robustness.

Right before the holidays, we always make giant batches of porcini mushroom soup at our stores. I think of these prized mushrooms as an indulgence that fits perfectly with the holiday theme of celebration. They have a distinctive, deep, woodsy flavor that permeates anything in which they are used. Almost any Christmas dinner entrée can follow a festively-presented bowl of this soup.

Spring rolls, also known as egg rolls, are a tasty filling wrapped in a thin dough and deep-fried until crispy. Here, for the filling and pork marinade, use medium-dry sherry if Shaohsing wine is not available.