How to Cook 'The Last of Us' Mushroom People

I'm sure the rules of the game say I can't, but there's simply too much potential to just... compost them?

‘Now Steaming’ is a cooking newsletter combining a love of food with an obsession for pop culture. Sometimes, it’s a recipe inspired by a new movie. Other weeks, it’s—well, it’s an assessment of how to best cook a mushroom monster from a TV show. This is for foodies who love to eat in front of the TV.

Look at her. I want you to look her right in her fungi face.

That is a mushroom diva with so much potential. Them little crevices at the top? The sturdiness of her mushroom body? The way that her structure suggests she would yield a slightly crispy exterior with the promise of an umami fluff on the inside? This is your favorite mushroom’s favorite mushroom. Of course, she is sentient, so there are some ethical issues at play, but also not, because she’s not real. Just a beautiful figment of the imagination of some truly fucked up individuals who created The Last of Us—the hit (HBO?) Max show that follows a small lesbian and her handsome psuedo-daddy as they traverse a world where mushroom zombies have taken over.

This particular mushroom, pictured above, is a thicker variation. We haven’t seen many of them yet, but they’re not to be trifled with. Ask Gabriel Luna, who had to use an entire tank of gas to flamethrow (flambée? sear? blacken?) it to death after it nearly killed him. And there is this understanding in the show that these mushroom people are almost certainly toxic, just based on the fact that a bite from one will turn you into a mushroom man, but scorching it to death also begs the question… what does that taste like?

Now this query hasn’t plagued me for too long because prior to this season, most of the mushroom people we’d seen were only partly-mushroom, with spores and mushroom caps sprouting from their necks and heads and shoulders, but when this thickums was introduced, the game changed. Remember, back in the 2000s, when it was really popular to serve sushi on top of a naked person? This mushroom person reminds me of that. Am I suggesting that we should be eating food off of people’s bodies again? God no.

I’m suggesting we should be eating the body itself.

So I had me a little think. If I were to, say, have one of the big mushroom queens at the ready, already dead and prepared for the kitchen, what would I do with her? How do I really make her best qualities work on a plate?

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Deep-fried mushroom

I start with this recipe for two reasons: (1) I am who I am. I love fried chicken, and a spin on it for my vegetarian lot is so important. (2) If you’re doing a fried-chicken-as-mushroom situation, you have to choose a mushroom that’s up to the job, and she can handle it. I think too often, people consider any mushroom a candidate for frying, and in some respects, you’re right. You can fry anything. If you’ve ever been to a redneck Thanksgiving with a deep frier and peanut oil to spare, you already know that. But from a more logistical standpoint, I think this mushroom would be ideal for a fried chicken-adjacent recipe because this is a stout mushroom that’s not going to lose flavor against all of that breading and oil. You’d really have to fry this queen to hell and back to destroy her essence, which I imagine has a sweet nuttiness to it, similar to an oyster mushroom. That said, those crevices are basically begging to be battered. Imagine all of the extra, seasoned breading that’s going to get trapped in the nooks and crannies. Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside? Chef’s kiss.

Pesto mushroom parmesan

Now this one is all about this diva’s versatility. She’s big, so she has the potential to be sliced into a cut of mushroom unseen before. Think of it like… eggplant parmesan-size. You feel me? I’ve sat here and considered whether you’d want to flatten her out any, but I really don’t think you do! Let that spongey texture shine through and give each bite substance. Again, because of the size and type of mushroom, I think you can be pretty liberal with the pesto. I think I’d do a quick sear on the mushroom before layering on the pesto and a shockingly thin layer of parmesan. We’re talking enough to completely cover, but not so much that we’re trying to hide any flavor. Roast on 425 until the top just begins to brown. Do not serve over pasta.

Sautéed, over linguine, with a garlic sauce

The other mushroom that comes to mind when I look at this beauty is the ever-trendy morel. That, of course, suggests that we should fry her up, but I think because of her meaty qualities, there’s an opportunity to bathe her in a sea of butter, onion, and perhaps a bit of thyme and let her sautée for a while. Let her create her own earthy sauce. Remove her cut up bits from the pan, drop in some minced garlic (perhaps some ramps?), then add the daintiest pour of cream and combine with the mushrooms again. Serve over linguine? Hell yeah.

Mushroom ramen

Notice that a through line of my ideas are all about featuring the mushroom’s best qualities. I just think that’s the kind of diva we’re dealing with! For this last one, we’re putting her to the test though and really making her be both the supporting actress and the lead, kind of like Julia Roberts in August: Osage County. For a mushroom ramen, I think that you want to start out by using this mushroom to create a broth that marries the dish together, but I also think that some thinly-sliced slivers alongside some ginger, scallions, and a soft-boiled egg would be a perfect combination to let her flavors sing.