Enoki

Thirty seconds in hot broth. Longer and the strands go to thread.

It carries seasoning better than it carries flavour. Lean on that.

Rolled inside thin slices, grilled. Fat outside, crunch inside.

Same shape, opposite bite. The plate stops looking like straw.

Coarse flakes cling to the strands where fine powder would not.

A slick coat makes the squeak read as pleasure and not as raw.

Citrus acid on a mushroom that is already faintly sour. Doubles down.

Both go limp at the same second. Add them to the pot together.

Wrapped and grilled; the fat renders straight into the bundle.

Zest only. The mushroom cannot survive a second acid in the bowl.

Pan-fried in butter to a tangle of crisp brown. Not Japanese, still right.

Sharper and greener than yuzu; matches the grassy note exactly.

Petals and strands, both bitter-green. A nabe garnish that earns its place.

Both crisp, both faintly acidic. Julienne together, dress with rice vinegar.