In which I stuff 'shrooms and baconate my vegetables

Imagine this with toasty browned cashews on...Good, right?

If I lived alone all the time, my weeknight dinner rota would read something like this; baked mushrooms, stirfry (might include mushrooms), pasta (mushroomy potential there), risotto (a few lonely dried porcini in the stock at least) and a friday night empty-fridge-panic induced takeaway. 
So yeah, I like my fungi. My insides probably look like a fairy grotto. Actually they probably look gross, 'cause they're insides. But metaphorically, at least, they're all pixies dancing round 'shroom rings.

Buuut I don't live alone, I live with a man who considers mushrooms a strange and unusual, nigh on suspicious ingredient and their very use in dinner is tantamount to a poisoning attempt. You must see my predicament. 
When I do cook for just me, one of my absolute favourites is a stuffed mushroom. My stuffed mushrooms have five components, each endlessly customisable but all utterly delightful and each contributing something to the plateful.