La Championne des Champignons

Ok, so I can hardly call myself the Champion of Mushrooms; however, this past week, I sure felt like one.  Perhaps you remember my last post about going on a wild hunt for mushrooms in the woods surrounding the farm house and coming back with a basket of only one tiny, micro, baby mushroom? Well the tables have turned my friends!

I’m a bit late in my mushroom posting because it’s been a non-stop whirl in the kitchen of decadent dishes, a domino effect, if you will, of creative kitchen juices flowing…both savory and sweet…you know, like when you research one ingredient and that leads you to another recipe and then the next thing you know you have 10 tabs open with bookmarked recipes and you just can’t stop? Well, maybe eventually you stop for a second when your feet begin to ache or you find another recipe you need to further look into. My chefs out there, you know what I mean.

But let’s get back to the champignons for now. After foraging with Philippe, Jorris, Kan and Carmelita that Sunday morning, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head to return from the woods with a brimming basket of mushrooms to play with. With my little knowledge of mushrooms based on a few Philippe had shown me a few weeks prior to our group forage, I knew nothing else or had prior mushroom foraging knowledge. Wanting to go but not feeling confident enough, I ignored the little voice in my head.

Until, I got the hint. Philippe told me one evening that he saw a lot of petit gris, little gray, when you translate into English, growing in the forest. These are grayish-blackish-brownish mushrooms, which grow in chunks. Their scientific name is Tricholoma terreum.  They grow under pine trees and are usually found on the outside edges of pine forests where sunlight reaches. From the kitchen where we stood, he explained where to go, naming some landmarks to look out for and pointing through the wall of the house, the direction of the treasure. Wide-eyed, I carefully listened, taking note of the direction.

                               

Harvest Basket and Opinel, I'm ready.

So, one morning last week, with my trusty opinel pocket knife (every French farmer has one of these) in hand and a harvest basket, I set out, solo. Well, almost solo, sweet Kan, our farm dog, came along with me.

             

Fall, competing with Summer for my favor; just might work. 

There we were, Kan and I, trekking up the first hill, not forgetting to appreciate Fall’s beauty surrounding us, excited, eyes open. Shortly after we got up the hill and a few steps further, we encountered some grayish-brownish little mushrooms growing in clumps. I wasn’t sure if these were them, but we were in the area Philippe had hinted at and they did look familiar, so I went for it and started picking them gently. Some of them I cut with my opinel, where the pied (translated as foot; the mushroom stem) met the earth. They were soft and delicate, a little rubbery, and reminded me of little snails. With every handful I harvested and tossed into my harvest basket, moss, dirt and all, the little petits grises bounced lightly into place.

                  

The first discovery! 

Again, I wasn’t sure if any of them were edible at the time, but just the experience of kneeling down and harvesting them in the hopes of eating them was magical. Kan frolicked around, as I did my harvesting, sniffing rocks and spots of grass.

We walked a little further into the thicket of the woods and found some other mushrooms, these caramel-tan colored mushrooms, with a white or yellow spongy texture beneath the cap, unlike the gills beneath the caps of the petit gris. Uncertain, but greedy for the chance of having found another edible mushroom, I harvested them anyway. They were a little thicker and fatter than the petit gris and based on the strange sponginess beneath, I didn’t think they were edible, really, but you never know, right?

                                        

Hopefully, this one is edible. 

A questionable bounty basket of mushrooms.

It was an exciting morning of taking chances. Then I decided to turn back, since I did not discover any more mushrooms. I ran up the stairs to the farm house, popped through the door and found Jorris occupied on the computer. I showed him my bounty and he replied with a slight smirk, “How do you know those are good?”

“Well, I’m not sure, actually, but I will wait until Philippe comes home and verifies.”

Later that afternoon, I went on a second hike with Kan and found this GIANT white mushroom with little spots on its cap and a mini-ring on its pied; it definitely looked inedible, so, of course, I picked it anyway, fingers-crossed.

I waltzed back to the farmhouse, admiring how the day was coming to an end in its tiresome-fading colors. I added the GIANT mushroom to my bounty basket on the produce table of our kitchen.

Now, we wait. Jorris and I waited 2 days for Philippe to return home from his work in the forest. When he walked through the door, I jumped up and pointed to the bounty basket of mushrooms. He nodded, in his quiet yet approving way, almost masking a pleased attitude for my ambitions. He examined for a second the goods, and noted, “Where did you get that one?” referring to the Giant white one.

Turns out they were all edible!!!! Here, I thought maybe 10% of them would be good, but he said they were all good, even the spongy yellow one, which I learned later is in the mushroom family of Boletus. The common name around here is Pissacan, translated as dog pee in English. Maybe when dogs smell it, they pee? I have no idea on this one.

I was elated!! And Jorris also smiled at my success. Philippe seemed content that I was happy and that maybe I am a good student, since he seems to enjoy passing down knowledge of this sort.

I’ve noticed since my time here in France that most Europeans in general do not jump for joy or openly express their emotions like we Americans tend to do, or at least this American. So, since I’ve noticed this difference, I’ve tried to blend in and tone down a bit my general excited attitude about almost everything. But, dammit, this victorious moment called for a mini jump in the air and exclamation in front of my seldom-expressing-excitement French cohorts, so it was off with the veil of nonchalance. Whoopie!

Ok, ok, I’ll stop now, since you’re probably dying to know what the GIANT white mushroom was and why Philippe asked about it out of all the others….

 

The GIANT ONE, also known as Coulemelle.

It was a Coulemelle or the common name is Lépiote, which includes several types of mushrooms. The word Lépiote originiates from the Greek word Lépiote, meaning “small tortoise shell small scab,” which refers to the small brownish scab-looking spots circling the center top of the mushroom cap like the texture of a tortoise shell. Some of the smaller ones of this kind of mushroom are toxic. There is also a small ring noted on the pied of the mushroom.  It’s highly delicious, and I had the privilege of finding out for myself the next day. So, I could see why Philippe wondered about where I found it in particular.

Again, I am neither a champion nor expert on mushroom foraging, so whatever information I have here is general information I gathered on the web. It’s exciting to forage for one’s own food, so I wouldn’t discourage anyone from doing so, but only with expert knowledge backing up your adventure, like Philippe’s at-least decade Forester experience. Otherwise, even this Garden Gallivanter wouldn’t risk it.

Speaking of Garden Gallivanting, I know I’ve been out of the Garden these last few months. The garden is transitioning into hiatus and while I have been in there, building barricades to defend precious lettuce from deer and gathering what’s left of spinach leaves because of the deer, I have been mostly gallivanting around the kitchen….

                        And here are some of the dishes I’ve been creating….

With few quick scans on the web, and what Philippe told me about cooking mushrooms, I threw something together like sautéing the mushrooms with garlic, butter, a splash of white vinegar, and sprinkle of sarriette (mountain savory herb).

 

Les Petits Grises getting buttered up.

...and showered with sarriette. 

Jorris and I both looked at each other before we began lunch, jokingly giggling that it might be our last meal. I mean, they were mushrooms from the wild and we were amateurs, and you never know with mushrooms, so it was a Russian Roulette Luncheon. But, the brown sautéed goodness on top of our organic homemade pasta from our friends and drizzled with fresh pressed olive oil from our other friend’s son in Spain, looked and smelled too good not to take the chance for.

Russian Roulette Luncheon: Sautéed Wild Mushroom and Pasta. 

After savoring each bite of our simple pasta with sautéed mushrooms, we cleaned our plates and checked in with each other. We both felt fine. Even an hour later we were good. And all afternoon, into the evening, the smoky, savory, buttery and garlicky, taste of our Russian Roulet Luncheon lingered on my taste buds and my mind. This foraging adventure was one to be remembered, I thought.

Once you find some mushrooms....

you want to find more...!

Then of course, we wanted to replicate this lunch. So the next morning, on our walk to check the water tank, we brought a basket, just in case, and voilà, more CHAMPINGONS!!!  So it was more petit gris for lunch, but this time instead of a splash of white vinegar, it was a splash of olive oil, and an Asian twist, a splash of soy sauce! And this time, to change it up a little, we used brown wheat berry rice and some yogurt with olive oil topping. This was an adaptation from this recipe I found on bon appétit. It was another successful lunch. 

Asian Twist Mushroom Pilaf topped with radish and green top of red onion. 

Our kitchen counter, a mushroom prep table.

Garlic, Butter, Olive Oil, Soy Sauce & Thyme!

                

But, just a note, that we made another pasta before this Asian-twist rice pilaf, and the mushrooms were soggy because I had mistakenly dunked them in water really quickly to rinse them. Don’t do this. Mushrooms are like sponges and soak in everything. So, you have to clean them lightly with a damp paper towel and/or pastry brush. Brushing the undersides of the caps is tedious work, but sort of meditative and makes you feel like an artist.

The Second Attempt.

This second mushroom lunch attempt before the Asian-twist pilaf was watery because of this mistaken dunk of the mushrooms in water in hopes to rinse them; but it was still good and we even found some parsley left over in the garden.

Unless it’s been a few days and mushrooms are dry or drying, like my first attempt at cooking, you don’t need to cook them to let the water evaporate first before adding the garlic and such. If they are freshly picked and you want to cook them right away, you have to cook them in a pan, without any oils, to let the water evaporate, since they are filled with water. Don’t pack the mushrooms in the pan, add a little at a time, cook them on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, and watch as the water escapes and evaporates. Place these mushrooms in a bowl and begin your next batch. Lots of prep time but worth the wait.

Then throw everything in and cook with your butter, olive oil, soy sauce, garlic, favorite herbs, etc….I should post a proper recipe.

Of the many things I love about French Food Culture, at least here in the small villages, is that people usually get fruit and veggies from a known source. Take us for example at the farmhouse. We have a vegetable garden where we get a lot of our veggies, and then we also forage for food like mushrooms. Philippe always has his eyes open for fruits on the road like these quinces he brought back in a bag one evening. Oh, and there’s the chestnuts from chestnut trees in Braux, where he collected and brought back. We also have our fellow market friend Nicolas who makes artisanal cheese and who’s son lives in Spain and produces olive oil and it shares with us.

We are lucky. Lucky to have kind friends who make and who’s progeny make high-quality food and lucky to be so closely connected to our food. We seek quality in our food, knowing that it is what nourishes us, so it is worth seeking and taking risks for. Cheers to champignons and to all of you out there who take risks everyday to get closer to your food, whether it be trying something different in the kitchen, starting a garden, or foraging for your own wild tasty something.

*photos by Tiffanie Ma