Pickled Chanterelles (Vegan)

Infographic: What are we pickling at 4 am? Mm-hm.

In my defense. Many of you are already well familiar with my chronic 4 am insomnia, which can nearly always be traced to a violent allergy attack, though sometimes I just wake up at 4 am for no particular reason, I guess out of sheer habit. According to my mother, this has been happening since before I could read. At this point in my life I am far beyond being angry or annoyed about it; I’d describe my attitude about it these days as existentially fatigued resignation. Mind you, this hasn’t always been the case. When I was young and restless and didn’t know any better, I used to get out of bed and write feverishly in my journal all night, or sneak out of the house to do god-knows-what (honestly, I don’t remember, but I’m sure it was nerdy and emo). Later in life, frustrated at the injustice of my plight, I would simply toss and turn, in vain hopes of returning to sleep (which wouldn’t ever happen until around 6:30 am, about a half hour before it was time for me to get up). In recent years, due to the advent of smart phones, I have become more zen and used those quiet solitary hours between 4 and 7 to read random things on the internet, which has helped me stay current on important topics like the feeding habits of deep-sea frilled sharks and the etymology of the ampersand.

In a strange new twist, however, the last several times I’ve woken up at 4 am, I have been overcome with the desire to cook something. Through the first few episodes I managed to resist the impulse, yielding to the voice in my head that said “Really? You know how nutty that sounds, right?” Ultimately, however, my urge to do something with the fresh chanterelles aging in my refrigerator won out. Hence, these pickled delights.

This recipe isn’t my invention; I gaffled it from Chez Pim, who adapted it from someone else. In any case, I stand by it as a great way to preserve your chanterelles or any mushrooms you might have on hand. Whip them up, chill overnight, and then serve them as a tapa, use them as a condiment with your favorite neutral entree, pile them on top of a sandwich, toss them into a salad, or just nom them alone.

Pickled Chanterelles (Vegan)

  • 1 lbs mushroom
  • 2 large shallots, sliced into thin rounds
  • 3 large garlic cloves, peeled and sliced into rounds
  • 1/2 tbsp whole coriandar seeds, lightly toasted
  • 1/2 tbsp black pepper, coarsely ground
  • 1/4 c. golden raisins
  • 1/2 c. cider vinegar
  • 1/2 c. of olive oil
  • 1/2 tsp  sea salt

Clean the chanterelles by brushing them or wiping them with a damp cloth. If they are super dirty, go ahead and just rinse them in cold water.  Pat them dry and cut them into medium pieces.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, add the mushrooms to the pot and let boil for 1 minute, then remove from heat.  With a slotted spoon, scoop them into a colander, being careful to leave any dirt that boiled off in the pan.  Run cold water over the mushrooms to stop them cooking, and leave them to drain.

Heat another pot on medium and add a bit of the olive oil. When the oil is hot,  add the garlic and shallots and cook, stirring constantly, over medium to low heat until the shallots are translucent.  Add the pepper, coriandar, raisins, vinegar, olive oil, and salt.  Stir to blend and bring to a simmer.

Add the blanched mushrooms, stir to blend and remove from heat.  Transfer the mushroom into a glass or ceramic container.  Cover and let them rest in the fridge for 24 hours before using.

Morels Reloaded: This Time It’s Personal (Vegan)

Damnit morels, you shall bend to my will! This was my thought when I rounded the corner at the grocery store the other day and spied my old nemeses lying nonchalantly among the shitakes and bellas. In spite of my terrible first experience with morels, or maybe because of it, I was suddenly possessed with an overwhelming desire to conquer them for once and for all. Or at least prove to myself that they suck no matter what I do to them. So I picked out a very small number of the good’uns (after all, I was only cooking for myself, plus this was an experiment, plus they’re super freaking expensive) and made up my mind that in spite of the advice of all the morel connoisseurs, I was going to soak the hell out of these puppies and then torture them to death in the frying pan, because the intolerable grittiness and chewy consistency are what did me in so thoroughly the  last time. Although morel lovers might tell you it’s unnecessary to soak them or that it will compromise their flavor, I’m here to tell you this: The morels I made after soaking them for several hours in salt water vs. the morels I made last month following the advice of the experts to “preserve the flavor” were like night and day. The morel* of the story is, don’t underestimate how much gritty, tripe-like mushrooms can ruin a dish.

This batch, however, made me understand why people are so cuckoo for morels. They are just super rich, meaty, earthy, forest-y, and … je ne sais quoi. I did so very little to them aside from the soaking and the stovetop abuse, yet nevertheless they were delish. So, yeah, I stand corrected, they don’t suck. Though I do still think they’re super creepy-looking. Regardless. You should try them. And in case you were concerned, a word about them being expensive: Yes, you might find them as high as $40/lb. But they are super light and you don’t need very much. 1/4 lb is often all you need for 2 – 3 servings. Which isn’t cheap, but it’s doable.

Here’s whatcha do:

Find a place that sells morels. The only places I’ve ever seen them here are Whole Foods and the farmer’s market. Pick morels that are spongy and light to medium brown, not super dry and not super moist. If you rub your finger the length of them, they shouldn’t crumble – that’s a sign they’re old. Once purchased, take them home and if you must store them, put them in a paper bag or a basket covered with a moist paper towel and refrigerate. Don’t keep them too long – their shelf life isn’t more than a week and you don’t know how long it took them to get to you in the first place. I’d say eat them within 3 days or less of buying them.

When you’re ready to prepare them, shake them up in their container to dislodge any loose debris. Rinse them thoroughly. Cut them in half (lengthwise). Fill a bowl with cold water and place them in it to soak. The folds of the mushroom are what you want to cleanse, so be sure they are brainy side down in the water.

I soaked mine for about 6 hours, replacing the water 5 times, stirring salt into the water for 2 of the 5 soaks and agitating them in the water at least once per soak. When I was finally ready to prepare them, I agitated them for a minute or two, then rinsed them thoroughly in running water before moving them to a towel and patting them dry.

Perhaps this is where I should mention that I’m obsessed with mushrooms and don’t mind putting this much work into them at all. Some of you may think this is ridiculous, and who am I to say you’re wrong. But I love mushrooms. So back to the recipe.

Simple Morels

  • 1/4 lb morels, thoroughly soaked (see above), halved, stems removed
  • 2 tbsp chopped parsley
  • 1 small leek, thoroughly cleaned and sliced
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 – 2 tbsp olive oil
  • Sea salt to taste

Heat a small nonstick pan over medium heat. Add the oil. When the oil is hot, add the morels and a bit of salt. Cook them for a couple of minutes, then add the leek & garlic and a bit more salt, if desired. Cook the whole mixture for a total of about 5 – 8 minutes, until the morels have shrunken noticeably and are very soft. Remove from heat and stir in the parsley while still hot.

Serve as a tapa by themselves. Nom nom nom … In the meantime, I will work on coming up with something a bit more substantial to serve as a main course or something.

*Pronounced More- ELL (contrary to what my pun might suggest)

Wild Mushrooms en Papillote (Vegan or Vegetarian)

They're not your father's Freedom Fries

Photo property of Williams-Sonoma

You might have noticed a recurring theme. I’m way batty for mushrooms.

This time I decided to break away from my normal preferred mushroom cooking method and try something different. It’s a slight adaptation of a gem from my home skillet Billy S and certainly an easy way to cook mushrooms if for some reason you find it impractical to saute them on the stove top. The only thing is that I’m not sure if there’s any real advantage to preparing your mushrooms en papillote, other than to sound French, impress Martha Stewart or delight your guests with mushrooms from a paper bag. Some say that this method is healthier because it cuts down on the amount of oil you cook with, but a) you’re replacing it with butter or margarine; and b) cooking mushrooms stove top doesn’t really call for all that much oil. So I don’t know what that’s about. One thing I can say is that cooking your mushrooms this way will result in slightly softer, less browned mushrooms, so if you’re trying to control texture and presentation, that could be a reason to choose the papillote method.

Three important departures from the Billy Sonoma version that I’ve included here: 1) Omitted the parsley because I was serving them in an arugula salad and didn’t need the extra bitterness; 2) After steaming them in the parchment for about 10 minutes, I opened up the bag to dry them out a bit, because they had produced quite a bit of moisture, as we all know our fungus friends are wont to do; 3) Added red pepper flakes, because you know I love the spicy, yo.

One last thing. If you’re wondering where you can get your hands on some parchment, you can find it in most grocery stores in the aisle with aluminum foil and wax paper.

Wild Mushrooms en Papillote

  • 1 tbsp vegan butter or unsalted butter, plus 1 tbsp vegan butter or unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • 1 lb mushrooms, brushed clean – I used shiitake, trumpet and almond mushroom (random farmer’s market find), but you could use any combination of mushrooms you like
  • 1/2 tsp ground sea salt
  • 1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper
  • Red pepper flakes, to taste
  • 1 tsp fresh lemon juice

Preheat an oven to 375°F.

Cut parchment paper into an 18-by-11-inch rectangle. Fold the rectangle in half crosswise. Open the parchment and coat with the 1 tbsp butter. Place the rectangle, buttered side up, on a baking sheet.

Cut the mushrooms into bite-size pieces and place in a bowl. Add the salt, pepper, butter pieces, lemon juice and toss well. Spread the mushrooms over one half of the prepared parchment paper. Fold the other half of the parchment rectangle over the mushrooms and fold the vertical edges over twice, working your way along the edge of the paper to end with a twist on both ends. Place the package on a rimmed baking sheet.

Bake until the parchment packet is puffed and the mushrooms are cooked through, about 10 – 12 minutes. At that point, do a progress check – have they thoroughly juiced? If so, go ahead and carefully open up the parchment and return them to the oven for another 1 – 3 minutes to dry out any lingering liquids. Transfer the parchment packet to a platter and serve immediately. (Or, if you’re making a salad, add them to the salad and serve immediately. More on the salad coming soon.)

The Morel of the Story …

First, I want to warn you that there is no recipe herein, only a cautionary tale. As I’ve said before, part of my charter is to share the fruits of my experiments, both the successes and failures, so that you don’t have to endure the heartaches I have. That said …

Morelly questionable

Earlier this week I undertook to make something with morel mushrooms for the first time (pronounced “more-ELL,” contrary to what my post title pun would suggest). Actually, my original intent was to capitalize on the short-lived fiddlehead fern season and make something with fiddleheads again, and since I just recently bought this new cooking reference, The Flavor Bible, I looked up fiddleheads to see what accompaniments America’s greatest chefs recommend for them. You guessed it, morel mushrooms. And I thought “Yay, I’ve always wanted to cook insanely expensive mushrooms in an experimental recipe that is bound to epically fail!” Just kidding. Actually what I thought was, “Yay, I’ve always wanted to cook insanely expensive mushrooms that have the consistency of tripe and are notoriously difficult to rid of grit, rendering their resulting dish inedible.” OH, I’m still kidding. What I really thought was “Yay, mushrooms that look like brains are just like what Mom used to make!”

Okay, enough. What I really thought was “I think I’ll go with chanterelles, unless Whole Foods doesn’t have chanterelles, in which case I’ll get the most interesting mushroom they have that seems in good shape.” But I was never expecting Whole Foods to have morels. No one here ever has morels. Nevertheless, there they were. So I decided to go for it. Everyone raves about them and all. And I’m an adventurous cook if anything. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh SO MANY things went wrong. You know, in retrospect, I probably should have taken it as an omen when, earlier that day as we were driving past a golf course near our house which we’ve driven by HUNDREDS of times, a golf ball came flying out of nowhere and bounced off the hood of my car while we were driving about 50 mph. Certainly you could say we were lucky that it didn’t hit and break our windshield and kill one or both of us, so don’t get me wrong – I’m definitely grateful. But I can’t shake the feeling that the statistical unlikelihood of such an event is actually hard proof of my UNluckiness. Certainly it carried the portent of imminent mushroom disaster.

But I digress. Morels.

Braaaaiiiiinnnnnsssss ...

They’ll warn you that morels are gritty and should be carefully cleaned to rid them of grit and creepers. At the same time, they’ll tell you not to have them in water too long because it will rob them of their flavor. I can verify that the former is definitely true. I can’t comment on the latter because I don’t know what my morels tasted like before I rinsed and soaked them, but I do know that the resulting flavor of the still grit-inclusive morels I had was not remarkable in any way, and certainly did not offset the unpleasant tripe-like consistency either.

I won’t bore you by relating my subsequent misadventures with the vegan gnocchi I served them with – that’s another story for another day. I will leave you instead with a solemn word of caution that if you undertake to prepare morel mushrooms, do take the cleaning of them very seriously. For your information, here are the steps I followed, which were clearly insufficient:

  • Shook vigorously in a paper bag to dislodge any easily dislodge-able debris
  • Tapped each mushroom several times on a hard cutting-board surface to shake out any remaining bits
  • Plunged and swirled mushrooms in bowl of cold water, discarded water & repeated 5 times
  • Sliced each mushroom in half and rinsed out insides
  • Inspected for remaining schmutz – didn’t see anything

So anyway. In my research I found a few sources who recommended soaking them for a long period of time in water or even in salt water (in case of unwanted crawlie guests), though I found far more sources claiming that they should only be briefly submerged to avoid the afore-mentioned flavor weakening. I thought my approach was a safe compromise but apparently not. The morel of the story is I’m not sure that morels are worth it.

I’d welcome your thoughts and experiences of morels – anyone?