Mushroom Penne in a Pinch

A few nights ago, hungry and tired late on a raining evening, my boyfriend and I tumbled out of a birthday party. Too late to sit down to a meal and too famished to wait for take-out, we racked our brain for what was left in the refrigerator at home.

Some white button mushrooms, an onion, garlic, tri-colore pasta, celery, and a red pepper were the neglected remains of a few home cooked meals from the week prior. A quarter of a jar of marinara sauce saddled up on the side shelf. It seemed like a bare-bones collection of ingredients for a meal, but with the help of my mandoline, I was able to whip up something fast and satisfying, with a touch of gourmet.

A mandoline is a device used in many professional kitchens to slice vegetables, fruits, roots, etc. very thin. They can get fancy and expensive, but there are also extremely functional $20 versions available quite widely. Mine is from the Bowery Kitchen Supply in Chelsea Market; and, as I cook more and more, I find myself using it for more everyday preparations simply for the sake of saving time (it slices incredibly fast). The thin slices also add an air of elegance to any dish.

And such was the case on the rainy, cold evening last week. Ravenous, I knew I had to act fast. I put a pot of boiling water on as soon as we walked in the door. I then sliced the mushrooms and onions with the mandoline, heated some oil in a pan and sautéed them down, and sliced garlic into the mix and sautéed a little more. I added the pasta sauce and let the mix simmer. I boiled the pasta while I sliced the celery and the red pepper with my magic machine. I tossed the green and red mixture with olive oil and balsamic vinegar and set it on the table. When the pasta was soft, I drained it, added the mushroom sauce, and set in on the table, too.

Voilá! The tri-colore pasta laden with caramelized onions and velvety mushrooms steamed at the table. Next to it rested the refreshing little salad. There was nothing fancy or fussy about the dinner—served at midnight—but there was something incredibly luxurious about it. We lit a candle, served each other, and thoroughly enjoyed our late-night fungi on the fly.