Cooking with Wild Mushrooms
Published in Chester County Town and Country Living Magazine Spring 2008
Since
pre-historic times man has gathered food. Nuts.
Berries. Even mushrooms. I, however, first experienced
foraged goods on a warm May evening 10 years ago, shortly after moving
to Southeastern Pennsylvania. A child of the suburbs, I knew
nothing of the delicacies that grew naturally, without any intervention
by man. As a result, I was both ignorant and wary of the prize
about to be bestowed upon me.
My new neighbor, retired vintner and food vendor Frank Wilmer, wandered up my gravel driveway with a
welcome-to-the-neighborhood
gift in hand – a brown grocery bag filled with three-inch high, beige,
honeycombed mushrooms. After handing the bulging satchel to me,
he announced that he had found these fungi in the woods behind his
farmhouse. A member of the same species as the truffle, morel
mushrooms, he explained, flourish in springtime fields and forests.
“Their moonscape monoliths and Marge Simpson-hairdo
shapes make them unmistakable compared to other edible mushrooms and
the poisonous ones,” Frank said, trying to assure me that his present
was safe for consumption.
Although skeptical, I accepted the
package and with some trepidation took Frank’s culinary advice.
After soaking the morels in salt water to kill off any insects, I
sautéed them with a little butter and garlic and served them as an
appetizer alongside some thick, crusty bread. The leftovers
I refrigerated then added to the next morning’s scrambled eggs.
My
verdict on this earthy offering? The caramel-colored, honeycombed
caps and their slightly diaphanous flesh gave my dishes a woodsy taste
that surprised and delighted friends and family. They may have
looked unusual but, boy, were they delicious.
In much of the
U.S. morel season runs from early April through mid-June.
Springtime is ideal for these fungi as they prefer moist soils
ranging in temperature from 50 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit. Too much
or too little rain will hamper growth as will too hot or too cold
temperatures. Hence
why these wild mushrooms fail to thrive in either the desert or southern coastal areas of the country.
When hunting for morels, my neighbor looks for damp patches of earth beneath elm, sycamore and pine trees.
Stumbling
across a dying or dead elm, he may spot a cluster of these elusive
treats. The tree’s decaying root system provides a desirable and
readily available food source for the fungus.
After a burning a series of blighted apple trees on his 30-acre property, Frank may nose around the orchard in
search
of the distinctive caps. Morels grow in abundance in the two to
three years following a forest fire. Possessing this knowledge,
professional pickers and purveyors will track forest fires in order to
cull hearty crops.
As
any serious forager will attest, finding morels can present quite a
challenge. Even if all the variables are in place – moist soil,
decaying root systems, forest fires and preferred trees – a gatherer
may leave the woods empty handed. Morels are an exasperating,
unpredictable quarry. No wonder that they are so costly or that
they have failed successful
cultivation.
Yet, sometimes a forager, and a novice one at that, gets lucky. Martin Gagne, executive chef and co-owner of
the
sophisticated, 44-seat Inn at St. Peter’s in St. Peter’s Village,
Penn., can attest to this fantastic fortune. At the age of
15 the Chicago born and bred Gagne set out one afternoon to collect
wild asparagus. He returned home from the nearby forest preserve
not with slender stalks of asparagus but with a sack of muddy morels.
The future chef at Maxim’s in Paris, Cafe 21 in Chicago,
and Hedgerose in Atlanta then did what any triumphant gatherer would
do. He cleaned then popped the morels into a pan and sautéed them
for a snack.
Since that day 40 years
ago, Gagne has continued to roam the woods in search of an array of
wild mushrooms. “It never ceases to amaze me how people are
mystified by the thought of going and picking mushrooms. We’ve
been doing this for millennia. We are hunter-gatherers,” he says.
For his mushrooms Gagne scours the grounds of his 267-acre farm in Glenmoore, Penn., behind the Inn at St.
Peter’s
and in nearby French Creek State Park. The best seasons for
foraging, he says, are “those not too hot or too cold, from March to
October. In warmer weather the mushrooms will be bigger and
easier to find. In cool weather they will be
smaller.”
He typically amasses between three to seven pounds of such woody gems as the orange-hued, funnel-shaped
chanterelle,
wavy black trumpet and blue-tinted Blewit or blue foot.
“Any more and the mushrooms would perish before I could use them at the
Inn,” says Gagne, who has twice been recognized by the elite, New
York-based, culinary professional organization the James Beard
Foundation for his “outstanding contributions.”
Back in his
kitchen Gagne sets out to clean these treasures. As mushrooms
contain close to 90% water, he avoids soaking or dousing them with
liquids. Instead, he trims the sodden feet and shakes off the
loose dirt from their bodies. For stubborn particles he employs
either a brush, such as an Oral B medium toothbrush, or a pairing knife
to dust off and pick out any debris. If necessary, he cuts the
caps in half to remove lingering soil as it will be gritty on diners’
teeth.
Mushrooms cleaned, he then
decides how best to prepare them. Often he sautés chanterelles
with cream and shallots. “I love chanterelles as they have an
earthiness, sweetness and creamy buttery-ness to them. Add some
white wine to the shallots and cream and they really stand out,” says
the self-described French-trained cook with American sensibilities.
Chanterelles
grow throughout the summer in eastern North America and from fall to
spring on the West Coast. They sprout on the ground beneath oaks
and conifers and form a symbiotic relationship with other plants.
This partnership makes them extremely difficult to farm.
Versatile,
with a slight apricot scent and a mild, peppery taste, chanterelles can
be successfully added to most dishes. In particular they pair
well with eggs, chicken, beef fish, game, garlic, parsley and butter.
Faced
with a basket of firm-fleshed, red shelled lobster mushrooms, Chef
Gagne may add them to a wild mushroom terrine, serve them alongside
basil-fed snails or braise them in vegetable stock and butter and offer
them with artichoke schnitzel. As they possess a mild seafood
flavor, he may place them in a pot au feu of escargot and
scallops.
Lobsters are unique in that they result
from a parasite that has attacked a traditional mushroom. The red
exterior is the tissue of the parasite while the white interior
represents the flesh of the host. Some have likened it to
mycological, or mushroom, cannibalism. Nevertheless, it produces
a culinary delicacy, one that abounds in healthy forests of the
Northwest.
Gagne marries morels, which my neighbor and I so
adore, to lighter foods such as chicken and veal or showcases them in
sauces or vinaigrettes. This way, diners can taste the subtle
flavor, he says.
The extraordinarily pliant
porcinis, also known as boletus, “go well with many, many things,”
Gagne says. He uses them with scallops, veal, beef, chicken and
even risotto.
Fortunately for ardent foragers such as Gagne, wild mushrooms prosper almost year-round. In the winter
oysters and wood ears abound. Springtime heralds the appearance of morels and St. Georges. Early summer
marks
the return of chicken of the woods and puffballs. Summer through
late fall welcomes porcinis, black trumpets and chanterelles.
Autumn means the re-appearance of hen of the woods.
With an abundance of wild, edible fungi at a cook’s disposal, the question arises of how to work with them.
Chef
Gagne imparts several tips for preparing mushrooms. With the
exception of the rare and pricey white or black truffle, which can be
shaved raw over salads, pasta and the like, uncultivated mushroom
should be cooked before serving. Medium-high heat is ideal.
The high temperature ensures that they will end up firm and browned
instead of limp and submerged in a pool of their
juices. When finished, they will be tender and yield to the
touch.
As for seasonings, Gagne suggests
adding fresh thyme for flavor and employing chives as a garnish.
He also advises adding salt and pepper as the mushrooms loose their
liquid, always tasting and adjusting the amounts accordingly.
“The salt will be able to infuse into mushrooms as they cook,” says
Gagne, who shares his vast knowledge at a food enthusiasts’ cooking
school that he runs at the Inn.
When cooking
with alcohol, Gagne often employs white wines, such as Chardonnay, to
introduce some acid and compliment and balance the flavors. He
also likes to partner fine rich Madeira, a fortified red wine from
Portugal, with truffles. For morels he opts for cognac.
Although these specimens stand up well to a variety of culinary techniques, there is one method that should not
be
used. “As a general rule of thumb, don’t grill wild
mushrooms. This is too harsh and you will end up burning
them. They need to be cooked differently than common, cultivated
mushrooms,” he says.
At the elegantly appointed and newly renovated Inn at St. Peter’s Gagne features uncultivated mushrooms in
everything
from appetizers to entrees. A luscious white truffle foam tops
his chilled asparagus soup while morels enhance succulent veal
medallions. A wild mushroom medley accents the tender baby
chicken entree while lobster, black trumpet, blue foot and chanterelle
mushrooms star in his robust wild mushroom
terrine.
While preparing and eating native mushrooms is undoubtedly a treat, for many the real pleasure comes from
the hunt. Medical anthropologist Kathryn McGowan treasures the mornings spent foraging with her uncle in
northeastern
Pennsylvania. “Some of my fondest memories with my uncle are
about trying to find giant oyster mushrooms on a damp fall morning in
the Pocono Mountains and to do so before the deer beat us to the prized
possessions,” Dr. McGowan says.
Similarly, Peter Scarola,
executive pastry chef at St. Peter’s Bakery, relished searching for
morels with Martin Gagne at French Creek State Park. “I enjoyed
being outdoors and found it neat to see where the food comes
from. It can be pretty dangerous, though, as a lot of the edible
mushrooms have poisonous look-alikes and you don’t want to use those in
someone’s food,” he says.
Scarola advises
going out with an experienced gatherer as does Dr. John Dawson,
president of the Eastern Penn Mushroomers mycology group. “The
best way to learn is to join some sort of a club,” says Dawson,
professor emeritus of mathematics at Pennsylvania State University in
York.
From spring through late fall the 60-member Eastern
Penn Mushroomers leads bi-weekly forays to such locations as French
Creek, Wagontown and King’s Gap Environmental Education Center near
Carlisle, Penn. On these outings members learn how to identify
edible as well as non-edible fungus and how to avoid such poisonous
ones as false morels.
“Gathering wild mushrooms is no
more dangerous than gathering any other wild plants. The
difference, though, is that the toxic properties of wild mushrooms are
slower; there is no evidence of poisoning until 24 hours after eating,”
Dr. Dawson says.
The effects of poisonous mushroom consumption
range from an upset stomach to fatal liver damage. Thus the need
to go with someone who knows what he is doing and who can properly
differentiate safe from toxic fungus.
Another benefit to tagging along with an accomplished gatherer is learning how to transport and store the day’s
bounty.
Dr. Dawson instructs novice foragers to use a basket and separate the
different species in waxed paper bags. “Plastic bags should
definitely not be used, as they don't breathe, and mushrooms left in
them will end up a soggy mess,” he says.
Back at home have paper bags on hand for longer term storage. Paper allows the fragile fungi to breath, thus
sustaining
their longevity. Stored in this manner, they will remain fresh
from 5 to 14 days.
While
I was a quick to recognize the joys of foraged fungus, I do have a few
friends who shy away from an afternoon spent tromping through the
woods, eyes focused on the ground in search of a cagey mushroom.
Love the food. Don’t like the effort.
When
all arguments about the healthfulness of walking, the pleasures of
being outdoors and the thrill of the find fail to convince, I turn to
the economics of foraging. Purchased at a gourmet food shop,
fresh chanterelles will cost at least $45 per pound. A pound of
pearl-colored oysters start at $27. Bankrupting truffles run from
$600 to $2,200 per pound. The price of foraging? A
few bucks for a basket, some waxed paper and paper bags.
To the
diehards who claim that they could simply substitute wild with
cultivated mushrooms, I turn to Martin Gagne. “Cultivated don’t
have the taste or texture that wild mushrooms do. They’re so
sterile,” he says.
I must agree. For a truly flavorful dish, skip the white buttons and Portobellos and head straight for porcinis,
lobsters and chanterelles.
With
such simple, hearty preparations and resultant savory dishes it comes
as no surprise that so many are mad about wild mushrooms.
MIXED MUSHROOM STROGANOFF
Serves 4
For
those who prefer to purchase rather than forage for their wild
mushrooms, this dish with its addition of cultivated cremini mushrooms
offers an economical way of enjoying the taste of wild while still
keeping the cost of the meal within reason.
1 large white onion, peeled and quartered
3 garlic cloves, peeled and cut in half
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
4 oz. morel mushrooms
4 oz. porcini mushrooms
8 oz. chanterelle mushrooms
10 oz. cremini mushrooms
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¾ teaspoon curry
1 tablespoon paprika
1 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
2 teaspoons sea salt
3 tablespoons dry sherry
8 oz. light sour cream
linguine, optional
egg noodles, optional
Peel
and quarter the onion. Peel and halve the garlic. Place
both in a food processor or blender. Process the two until they
have attained a smooth, soupy consistency.
Clean and
remove the stalks from the mushrooms. Slice and halve the porcini
and cremini mushrooms. Cut the morels and chanterelles in
bite-sized pieces.
Heat ¼ cup
oil in a large sauté pan then spoon in the onion-garlic mixture.
Cook over medium heat until softened but not browned.
Add
the butter and remaining oil to the pan. After the butter melts,
add the mushrooms and toss the ingredients together so that they are
well mixed. Place a lid on the pan and cook until the mushrooms
are soft and slightly browned, approximately 15-20 minutes.
Remove
the lid and add the nutmeg, curry, paprika, pepper, salt, sherry and
sour cream. Stir well. Heat on medium-low for 5 minutes,
stirring occasionally, until stroganoff is hot and well combined.
Serve over linguine or egg
noodles.