Creamy mushroom and thyme soup with a sherry swirl for cozy evenings

There is a particular hush that settles over a kitchen when the rain starts drumming on the window and a pot of something deeply savoury is just beginning to bubble. In our house, that something is most often a pot of creamy mushroom and thyme soup, with a ribbon of sherry swirled through each bowl at the very last moment. It is the kind of dish that makes a cool Brisbane or Melbourne evening feel like a small celebration, even when no one is coming over and the dog has stolen the warmest spot on the rug. There is something quietly festive about ladling a deep, golden bowl of soup and finishing it with a swirl of something bright, and I think that small gesture is part of why this recipe has stayed in my weekly rotation for years.

Australian mushroom growers are remarkably generous, and the quality of locally cultivated Swiss browns, field mushrooms, and the stubby cup mushrooms you find piled high at the Queen Victoria Market or Paddy's Markets in Sydney is genuinely hard to beat. They appear in autumn and carry us through winter, when a warm bowl of soup is more of a necessity than an indulgence. I like to use a mix of mushrooms for depth, but if you only have one kind in the fridge, the soup will still come out beautifully. Before I head out for a shop, I tend to do a quick wafli browse to see what might be worth picking up that week, and the mushroom section is always the first place I stop.

The sherry swirl is a small flourish, but it is the flourish that turns the dish into a meal with a little story. A glossy pool of dry sherry poured just before serving lifts the earthy mushroom notes and adds a whisper of nutty sweetness that you cannot quite place but absolutely want more of. It is a method I picked up from a chef in the New York restaurant world, and one that travels surprisingly well to a country kitchen in the Adelaide Hills or a flat in Perth where the windows rattle when the sea breeze picks up. Australians are lucky to have access to some of the finest fortified wines in the Southern Hemisphere, so the sherry in question does not have to come from Spain to earn its place at the table.

At Rich and Sweet by Bia Rich, I write about recipes that hold a memory and a method, and this one holds both. Over the years I have leaned on this soup during long weeks, slow Sundays, and the kind of grey winter days that beg for a second helping. The recipe that follows is loose enough to adapt to whatever is in your basket, but structured enough that a confident beginner can pull it off without panic. The best soups are the ones that bend rather than break, and this one has bent for me through a move across continents, a kitchen renovation, and more Sunday lunches than I can count.

Choosing and prepping the mushrooms

When I shop for this recipe, I treat the mushroom aisle like a small treasure hunt. A mix of Swiss browns and the larger flat field mushrooms gives the pot a meaty backbone, while a handful of fresh shiitake or oyster mushrooms, if you can find them, brings a smoky complexity. Avoid the pre-sliced supermarket packs if you can, since the mushrooms stay firmer and develop better colour when you slice them yourself at home. Whole mushrooms also keep much longer once they are home, which means you can buy them on Saturday and cook them on Wednesday without losing any of their character.

Give the mushrooms a quick wipe with a damp cloth rather than rinsing them under running water, which can make them soggy. Slice them thick enough that they hold their shape through the simmer, then let them sit in a hot pan with a little butter until they release their liquid and begin to caramelise. This is the step that gives the finished soup its soul, so do not rush it. If you are shopping at a farmers' market in Hobart or the Adelaide Central Market, ask the grower what was picked that morning; the answer usually helps you choose, and a quick chat is one of the small pleasures of cooking this way.

Even experienced home cooks benefit from doing their homework on a new technique, the way you might consult a leaderboard challenge guide before committing to something unfamiliar. Mushrooms reward that patience with a far better finished bowl, and once you have cooked through the basics, you will start to notice the small differences between varieties and how each one shifts the flavour of the pot.

The sherry swirl and other finishing touches

Sherry gets a bad rap in some kitchens because it is associated with cooking wine that has been sitting open for too long, but a good bottle of dry sherry is a transformative pantry staple. In Australia, look for a Fino or a dry Amontillado from the smaller importers, or consider one of the excellent Australian-made fortified wines from Rutherglen in Victoria, which work beautifully here as well. A small glass poured into the bowl at the table does two things: it adds a bright, slightly tangy finish, and it makes the whole bowl feel a little more considered. It is the kind of finishing touch that turns a casual weeknight soup into something you might serve to guests without embarrassment.

The swirl itself should be a tablespoon or so of sherry per bowl, gently tipped in just before the soup goes out so the spirit does not cook off. If you are cooking for guests who avoid alcohol, a tiny splash of brown rice vinegar mixed with a drop of honey can stand in, though the depth will be a touch different. A drizzle of good cream, a scatter of fresh thyme leaves, and a few grinds of black pepper complete the bowl without competing with the mushroom flavour.

Building the soup on the stovetop

Start with a heavy pot over medium heat and melt a generous knob of butter with a slick of olive oil. Add a chopped onion, a couple of stalks of celery, and a few cloves of garlic, and let them soften without browning for about six minutes. Stir in the mushrooms and let them cook down for a further eight to ten minutes, until their moisture has evaporated and they begin to stick to the bottom of the pot. This is the moment to be patient; the caramelisation that happens here is what gives the soup its colour and a good deal of its flavour, and it cannot be rushed without consequence.

Sprinkle in a spoon of plain flour and stir for a minute, then pour in warm stock, chicken or vegetable both work, and a small handful of fresh thyme sprigs. Let everything simmer together for twenty minutes so the flavours can settle, then blend until silky. Return the soup to the pot, season generously with salt and pepper, and stir through a generous pour of cream. Taste before you decide whether you want more thyme or a touch more salt, since mushrooms can be deceptive in their seasoning. If the soup tastes a touch flat, a small squeeze of lemon at the end will lift it back into focus without changing the character of the dish.

Serving, swirling, and pairing

A bowl of this soup is a fine thing on its own with a hunk of warm sourdough, but it is even better with a glass of something carefully chosen beside it. A glass of dry sherry is the obvious answer, but a lightly oaked Chardonnay from Margaret River or a cool-climate Pinot Noir from the Yarra Valley will both sing alongside the earthy mushrooms and the herbal thyme. If you are serving the soup as part of a casual lunch, follow it with something bright and crunchy; a sharp green salad dressed with lemon and good olive oil is more than enough. Crusty bread is welcome, but the soup is rich enough that a basket of plain crackers does the job just as well.

For presentation, warm the bowls first, ladle the soup in, and bring the sherry to the table in a small jug so each person can swirl their own. A small spoonful of crème fraîche or a drizzle of truffle oil is welcome but not essential. The idea is to highlight what is already in the bowl rather than to bury it. If you are planning a multi-course meal, the soup can lead beautifully into something chocolate-rich, and the rich chocolate mousse from the kitchen archives is one of my favourite ways to close an evening of this kind. The contrast between the savoury first course and the bittersweet finish is what makes the meal feel complete.

Variations, storage, and make-ahead notes

This soup is a forgiving creature and welcomes small adjustments based on what is in your kitchen. If you want a heartier meal, stir through a handful of cooked pearl barley or some crispy bits of bacon just before the sherry swirl. For a vegetarian version, swap the chicken stock for a rich mushroom or vegetable stock, and consider adding a spoon of white miso at the end for extra umami. A handful of chopped kale stirred in during the last five minutes of simmering is another favourite in our kitchen, especially when the winter winds pick up around Sydney Harbour. The greens soften just enough to add colour and a different texture without overwhelming the mushrooms.

Leftovers keep well in the fridge for three days and reheat gently on the stove, though you may need to add a splash of stock to loosen them. The soup also freezes beautifully if you leave out the cream and stir it in fresh when you reheat, since cream can split during freezing. As for the sherry swirl, always add it fresh at the table; it loses its magic if it is cooked into the pot. If you enjoy putting up preserves for the cooler months, the pickled okra and peppers from last autumn's preserving series pair wonderfully with a bowl of this soup on a cold night, and the tangy crunch keeps the rich soup from feeling heavy.

Worthwhile pantry additions

• A bottle of good dry sherry, ideally a Fino or Amontillado, kept in the fridge once opened so it stays bright.
• Fresh thyme year-round, with a jar of dried thyme in the cupboard as a backup for slow-simmered soups.
• Cultured butter from a local dairy, which adds a tangy depth to the base that ordinary butter cannot match.
• Quality stock, whether homemade from saved bones and aromatics or a couple of low-sodium cartons kept as backup.
• A reliable source of local mushrooms, whether that means a stall at your nearest market or a trusted greengrocer you visit each week.