Published in Chester County Town and Country Living 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.