The Fungal Gourmet

An autumn ritual is predictable as drinking at collegiate football games or southern looking birds, chanterelle mushrooms were at the market this week. Originally, I intended to top a small piece of steak with the wild mushrooms, but I decided to go in a different direction with the steak – horseradish cream at the last minute – leaving me with about a half pound of the golden trumpet-shaped mushroom and no immediate plans.

Although no longer a board certified professional, I do know my way around the kitchen. That and they were kinda of indulgence, an expensive treat - a fungal Ben & Jerry’s of sorts, so there is no worry of them going to waste. Right now, I am thinking served with fresh noodles, an omelet or fried polenta are still viable options - the mushrooms keep for a week so I have time to decide.

Being a good Oregonian, I tend to think of Chanterelles as a mushroom that belongs to the Pacific Northwest. In a way they do, appearing in the mountains and hills after the first fall rains – making it to the markets at the same time as apples, pears and squash start to show up – a regional demarcation of the changing season. Considering the mushroom is popular across the continent and found on 5 of the 6 others, sorry Antarctica. Even the name Chanterelle isn’t borrowed from the indigenous languages of the Pacific NW - adopted by English speakers from the French language (although French citizens also refer to the mushroom as girolle).

Cantharellus, the Latin/scientific designation for Chanterelles with dozens of different subspecies adding their own name, but to the non-biologist, the mushrooms are identified and sold by color: black, grey, brown, white and the familiar orange/yellow, the latter 2 hues being commonly available in the NW. The aroma is surprisingly fruity – plum or apricot, while the flavor is what used to be described as meaty, now the kids say umami – not really an upgrade in the better or more accurate sense, just makes people feel hipper to bust out the 5th taste element. Meaty enough, that occasionally it is compared to, believe it or not, chicken.

Unlike the little button or cultivated wild mushrooms like the portabella or shiitake, chanterelles are truly wild, wild enough that they appear with dirt and pine needles stuck to their flesh. A soft bristle brush helps move the detritus; in lieu of a special tool, paper towels work well, as does soaking. I know conventional wisdom says ‘no, water ruins the texture’, but the mushroom is 92-94% water, a good soak is not going to waterlog the food. The caution should be to pat the surface dry so the mushrooms can develop color, flavor and texture as they are sautéd – instead of going in the pan damp, where they will stew in their own juices. Once clean, cut to the same size so they cook at the same rate, sauté with salt and if you are still confused with what to do with your chanterelles, fresh bread, lightly toasted in olive oil makes as good of a vessel for the mushrooms as any of the fancier preparations.