I’ve had some version of a mushroom ragu in my repertoire for years now. It’s something that developed during my vegetarian years, and over time it has evolved with my tastes. At it’s most basic, it’s a combination of fresh and reconstituted dried mushrooms, sautéed with onion or shallot in olive oil, with herbs and a little blob of tomato paste added.

A splash of Sherry vinegar goes in for brightness, the strained liquid from soaking the dried mushrooms is added back, and the whole mixture is then cooked down to a saucy consistency – just how much is dependent on how I’m going to use it, because this is one dish that is very versatile.

A soupier version makes a great sauce for pasta, gnocchi or polenta; a slightly drier version is great stuffed into crepes; cook it down even more, so the mushrooms are just coated with a rich glaze, and you can mound it on slices of toasted or grilled bread for a snack or canapé – this is a standard at our parties, and it’s always a crowd pleaser.

It also lends itself well to variation – add a little butter to the olive oil for a richer flavor; swap in leeks, shallots, green garlic or scapes as the onion-y component. Change up the herbs depending on the season and what you have on hand – thyme, sage, marjoram, rosemary, flat-leaf parsley or summer savory all work well. Cepes or dried shiitake mushrooms are lower-priced alternatives to dried porcini, and they still provide a nice depth of flavor; likewise, plain white button mushrooms will serve just as well as fresh shiitake, oyster or wild mushrooms. Fresh or dried morels send it over the top, as does a judicious amount of cream cooked in at the end.

Last night’s version was largely shaped by things we brought home from the farmers’ market – a base of wild baby leeks, sautéed in olive oil until soft and aromatic, a generous amount of julienned purple sage added to season the mushrooms, and a big handful of chopped dulse stirred in and lightly toasted before the liquid was added. The dulse eventually melted into the sauce, imparting a lovely savoriness and velvety texture.

I used the sauce to dress farro spaghetti, which made for a dish that was very brown, but was earthy, hearty and delicious. Mike has tried many versions of this ragu over the years, and he said this was my best yet.

One of the more interesting items available at our farmers’ market these days is seaweed harvested from Maine. Before I even knew what I’d do with it, I had decided to pick some up, and I did just that a couple of Saturdays ago. The variety I chose is called dulse, which is, apparently, the “gateway” variety – mild and easy to work with, with a flavor that complements a variety of other ingredients. I’m told that some people in New England eat it like potato chips, popping crispy bits directly into their mouths as a snack, and after Mike and I tried it, I can see why: there’s something really familiar and satisfying about the taste and texture of it.

Deciding how to use it was a bit difficult for me. We had been told it could be sautéed with leafy greens like kale or spinach, or used in a soup or stir-fry, but I was a bit concerned about over-cooking it, rendering its unique character lost in the dish, so in the end I decided I would barely cook it at all, instead snipping it with kitchen shears and folding it into a mix of hot cooked rice and vegetables.

Our rice bowls were built on a base of organic wild and Wehani rices, cooked in the leftover porcini soaking liquid from Monday’s dinner until they were just tender, and then tossed with a drizzle of toasted sesame oil to lightly coat the grains. I added a mix of barely sautéed vegetables next: some sliced shiitake caps, grated carrot, thin slices of spring onion, and a handful of watercress. I tossed a good cup or so of chopped dulse in off the heat, stirring it through before spooning the mixture into our bowls, then I topped each serving with a sunny-side up egg, a sprinkle of salt, and some snipped scallion tops.

The combination was really delicious, with the earthy rices and mushrooms providing a nice canvas for the little bursts of onion, sweet carrot, and the slightly salty and almost bacon-y dulse to shine against. The egg, when chopped up and stirred through, gave it all a nice creaminess. This first foray into cooking with seaweed was a big success, and I’m really eager to try new ways of incorporating it into our meals.