I may not remember the first time I ate a mushroom, but I do remember the first time I took a step back and considered a mushroom to be something special, something mysterious, something other than a crowd-polarizing topping for pizza.
It was summer, and I was 22 and without an apartment in New York, where I had just moved for a job. When a co-worker announced he needed a housesitter in Hastings-on-Hudson, just up the river from Manhattan, I readily accepted the job.
I still hadn’t found an apartment when David and Martha returned from their vacation on Cranberry Island in Maine, but they generously invited me to stay for a bit. It was during that time that I had my mycological awakening.
On a Saturday afternoon, I encountered David in the kitchen with a magnifying glass, an old book opened to a well-loved page and a rather large fungus attached to a cutting board with straight pins.
“It’s an obscure species of Russula, a very large genus that can only be told apart by noticing very fine details,” he said, looking up from his project. To detect the details, David was taking a spore print.
I was skeptical at first, and often stood in the corner of the kitchen while Martha and David laid out his loot on the table. Martha, ever the skeptic and in great fear of being poisoned, insisted that David be 100 percent sure of each mushroom’s identity before cooking a feast for the family.
That summer and fall, I watched David come home from his weekly walks in the woods with all kinds of mushrooms: chanterelles, boletes, giant puffballs, morels, hen-of-the-woods, honey mushrooms.
He cooked simple but elegant dishes that invited all the woodsy flavors of the mushrooms to come through. There were hen-of-the-woods omelets, a chanterelle risotto, and simple mushroom sautes from blewits and shaggy parasols to top grilled meats and green salads.
As for the inedible varieties he carted home, Martha made sure those didn’t make it into the soups and other concoctions they cooked together.
Since then, I have taken to mushrooms, going beyond the tired but true white caps found on pizzas and in crudites. In an exploration of single-girl cooking in my first Manhattan apartment, I discovered dried porcini mushrooms and how their intense, nutty flavor was a surefire way to impress a date.
A vegetarian roommate turned me on to the meaty tooth feel and flavor of a grilled whole portobello cap. Now I eat them on brioche with Dijon mustard. My acupuncturist opened my world to the supposed healing properties of mushrooms and had me drinking shiitake tea for better kidney function. I’m not sure if it worked, but I enjoyed the ritual of buying and stewing the mushrooms each week.
Joining my local mycological society is the next step. The thought of combing the woods with sages and enthusiasts like David, gathering up a basketful of mushrooms and cooking them the same day sounds like the ultimate earthy experience to me.
Imagine finding that secret corner of the woods where the chanterelles come up in the late summer and fall. Some of the really showy ones are big enough to give as a bouquet. What a delectable prize. Besides, the mushroom habit can get expensive. Hunting my own could be a real money saver.
Amy Farges, co-founder of the exquisite mushroom importing company Aux Delices des Bois in New York and author of “The Mushroom Lovers’ Mushroom Cookbook and Primer” (Workman), says the best way to get to know new varieties of mushrooms is simply to experiment by substituting an unfamiliar mushroom in a recipe where you normally would use white button mushrooms.
If you find yourself in a farmers market or a fancy food shop where lobster mushrooms are available, forgo your usual white mushrooms and eggs and saute the lobsters with some herbs to serve atop scrambled eggs.
The same goes for grilled chicken breasts. If you come across fresh porcinis (also called cepes), they would certainly appreciate being sauteed with some olive oil and shallots and served with chopped herbs over a grilled chicken breast.
Dried mushrooms can be magical in the kitchen, providing year-round intense mushroom flavor in a less perishable form. If you should happen upon those little cellophane bags of dried wild mushrooms (usually a combination of porcini, oyster, shiitake, chanterelle, morel, wood ear and black trumpet), don’t be afraid to buy yourself a few bags and make a simple gratin with new potatoes.
Here are some basic guidelines for exploring the world of mushrooms:
Selecting: Mushrooms should be free of dark and wet spots. They should be plump with no shriveling or wrinkles. The gills should be dry and upright.
Cleaning: Never wash mushrooms with water. They will absorb the moisture and become soggy. Wipe the caps with a damp cloth or paper towel. Remove woody stems (portobello, shiitake) and trim bottoms of tender stems (porcini, chanterelle, lobster).
Storing: Keep mushrooms in a basket or paper bag in an area of the refrigerator where air can circulate around them. The ideal temperature for storing most fresh mushrooms is 39 degrees, and most can be kept for only 3 to 5 days before breaking down. Dried mushrooms can be kept in a cabinet in an airtight container for several months, or up to a year in the freezer.
Cooking: Delicate mushrooms such as oyster, shiitake, porcini and chanterelle are best sauteed and used as a topping for meat or fish, as a sauce or filling for pasta, or as a simple addition to a salad. Fresh porcini are among the few mushrooms that can be eaten raw, and they are delicious over greens.
Thick, fleshier mushrooms, such as portobellos and lobsters, are best marinated and grilled, sliced and sauteed, or simmered, as in a soup.
Dried mushrooms should be reconstituted in hot water, wine or cognac, or a combination of the liquids, for at least 15 minutes, then strained (reserve liquid) and sauteed. The reserved liquid can be used as you would a broth for risotto, soup or a sauce.
David’s Cranberry Island chanterelle risotto
About 6 cups chicken broth
1½ cups chopped onion
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 to 1½ cups chopped fresh chanterelle mushrooms
2 cups arborio rice
1 cup dry white wine
1/4 teaspoon saffron threads
Salt and pepper
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Heat broth in a saucepan over low heat. In a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat, saute onion in olive oil. When transparent, add mushrooms and saute for several minutes until they turn darker in color. Add the rice; stir until glossy, 1 to 2 minutes.
Add wine and stir until evaporated. Add hot broth, about a cup at a time, and stir until absorbed, then add more and keep stirring. After about 15 minutes, add the saffron threads.
Continue adding broth and stirring until the risotto is slightly creamy and just tender. Taste for saltiness, and add salt as needed. (Depending on the kind of chicken broth you use, the risotto may already be salty enough.) Risotto should take about 25 minutes.
Serve immediately as a separate course in small bowls or on a plate with the main course. Garnish with freshly grated Parmesan cheese and ground pepper. Makes 8 servings.
Wild mushroom and potato gratin
1 cup chicken broth
About 1 cup dried wild mushrooms
8 ounces small new potatoes
½ cup heavy whipping cream
1 teaspoon sea salt, or to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper, or to taste
½ cup fine dry bread crumbs
2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Bring broth to a simmer in a medium saucepan. Reconstitute mushrooms by steeping in hot broth for 15 minutes or until softened. Scrub potatoes and slice 1/4 inch thick on a mandoline, if available. Keep sliced potatoes in a bowl of cold water to prevent discoloring.
Drain mushrooms, reserving liquid; rinse and chop coarsely, discarding any hard stems. Strain reserved mushroom liquid, and to it add cream, salt and pepper. Drain potatoes and add along with chopped mushrooms to the cream and mushroom liquid.
Stir gently to combine, and pour into a 9- or 10-inch pie dish or similar-size baking dish, arranging potatoes, in concentric circles, if desired. Cover and bake in preheated 350-degree oven for 20 minutes. Remove cover and bake another 35 minutes.
Meanwhile, combine bread crumbs and Parmesan cheese. Sprinkle on top and bake until topping is light brown, about 10 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool at least 5 minutes before serving. Makes 4 to 6 servings.
Mushroom-of-your-choice ravioli
This recipe is adapted from “The Mushroom Lovers’ Mushroom Cookbook and Primer,” by Amy Farges (Workman).
3 medium ramps, trimmed, if available (see note); otherwise, substitute 1 medium leek, white and light-green parts only
Olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
3 tablespoons finely diced slab bacon
4 ounces fresh mushrooms (try crimini, hen-of-the-woods, St. Georges or chanterelles)
2 tablespoons heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chervil
1 large egg
12 sheets of fresh pasta, about 6 inches wide (sold as lasagna sheets)
2/3 cup chicken broth
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat a grill to low, or preheat oven broiler. Brush ramps or leek with olive oil; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Grill ramps or leek, turning often, until lightly charred and tender, about 8 minutes, or broil indoors about 3 inches from broiler flame. Thinly slice ramp or leek greens, and finely chop the whites. Set aside separately.
Place bacon in a large skillet over medium heat. Stir until it begins to brown. Stir in mushrooms and ramp or leek whites. Cook until mushrooms absorb bacon fat, about 2 minutes. Reduce heat to low and cook, stirring occasionally, until mushrooms are tender, about 10 minutes. Add cream and chervil. Stir until mushrooms absorb cream, 1 to 2 minutes. Cool mushroom filling.
To assemble ravioli, beat egg with a few drops of water. Place two sheets of pasta side by side. Brush one sheet with egg mixture. Place 6 teaspoons of filling in mounds on top of brushed sheet, leaving ½ inch from edges and about 2 inches between mounds.
Cover with second sheet. Press the top sheet against the bottom, working around the filling to seal it in. Cut the filled sheets evenly between the filing into 6 square ravioli. Press edges with fork tines to secure filling.
Repeat with remaining sheets and filling. Let stand 10 minutes or more before cooking. Can be made up to one day ahead, storing in a single sheet in refrigerator, covered with plastic.
Add 1 tablespoon olive oil to a large pot of salted water and bring to a boil over high heat. Add ravioli, bring back to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for about 4 minutes. Stir gently to prevent sticking. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain in a colander.
Heat broth and butter in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat until boiling. Add ravioli and ramp or leek greens. Swirl skillet to prevent ravioli from sticking and simmer until heated through, about 2 minutes. Transfer to 4 shallow serving bowls and sprinkle generously with Parmesan cheese. Makes 4 main-course servings.
Note: Ramps are wild onions that are generally available only in the spring.
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