Chanterelles in White Wine w/ Herbs

Fall is creeping back to us, and with it comes the rain and a deeply vibrant mushroom season. Whenever someone asks me about foraging, the most common question is "is it safe?" 

Unlike many I met last year in Europe, my family elders were not foragers. They did not root around in the forest as children looking for the ruby-capped amanita muscariae, picking fiddlehead ferns and morels in the springtime. In this country, a lot of us were brought up believing the only mushrooms that are safe to eat are the ones in your grocery store. That's just rubbish. Afterall, those $14/lb. chanterelles had to come from somewhere.

When it comes to eating the best of what the world has to offer, there is always some risk and I wouldn't want it any other way. You take a chance when you eat oysters on the halfshell, steak tartare, or hell, even sushi. Adventure is what makes eating interesting. Just as I'm not ordering oysters from anywhere that looks dubious, when I go foraging I use common sense. I only eat mushrooms that are easily identifiable and leave the A-level stuff to the pros. For me, I'm more than happy hunting chanterelles, porcini, morels and the like.

I got into foraging through my best friend, and it's been love ever since. There's a primeval joy experienced while waking with the dawn to head out into the woods, and I can't even begin to describe the unadulterated glee of discovery when one spots that first mushroom underfoot (I almost always have to let out a giant shriek!). A couple of weeks ago, I ventured out with a few friends of mine to hunt the late summer chanterelles that crop up in the forests of Oregon. We came back with several pounds of beautiful golden trumpets filling our baskets. 

Chanterelles are especially good eaten within a week of harvesting. They're a pain to clean, so it's best to trim the stems when you pick them and brush off as much of the dirt as you can. Put them in a paper bag (never plastic!), or better yet, a nice basket where they won't be too crowded.

Chanterelles with White Wine & Herbs

This is hardly a recipe, but what I like to do is melt a pat of butter with a drizzle or two of olive oil in a nonstick skillet. Let the butter begin to brown a bit, and in go a handful of chopped shallots and garlic. Once the shallots get a little bit translucent, I throw in the chanterelles. Once the mushrooms soften a little (after 5-10 minutes, depending on how many you're cooking), I like to add a splash of white wine and a handful of chopped herbs (parsely is good, thyme is even better). When it's done, I serve them over a slice of crusty bread that's been ever-so-slightly toasted. It's a simple, satisfying reward for tromping through the woods all morning. 

Fig Frangipane Tart

The season's almost done, but my market had a huge sale on kadota figs so I went a little crazy and bought 4 or 5 pints of them. I made Clotilde DuSoulier's fig ice cream, and then I made not one, but two fig-frangipane tarts. I justified this because I had two parties to go to; the first at my friends Chad & Cheryl's place, the second a farewell-surprise-party for my friend Nancy.

Nancy just moved to Spain and started this really sweet blog about what she's eating there. Nancy's one of the first friends I made when I moved to Portland, and one of my favorite people to eat with (we're talking many epic, gut-busting 3-hour meals). I knew Portland would be a little different, a little more subdued, once Nancy left. So what better way to bid adieu than with an extravagant fig tart?

When I worked at Flour, I OD'd on frangipane. It was in everything from the almond croissants to the twice-baked brioche. Frangipane is an almond custard, or pastry creme, which turns slightly cakey and oh-so-buttery once baked. The top takes on a pleasant crunch. As with many French pastry names, it's sounds much more difficult to make than it actually is, as it consists mostly of butter, sugar, eggs, and almonds. I was always intimidated of cooking with it at home, but as long as you've got a good food processor (or something similar that can give almonds a good blitz), you'll be in fighting shape. DISCLAIMER: Please be judicious when people come back around asking for second helpings of this tart as it can get pretty ugly.

Fig Frangipane Tart

adapted from a recipe by Jaime Oliver (yes, that Jamie Oliver)

This tart's original recipe was a bit more involved than I prefer, so I made a few adjustments. What I kept, however, was the lemony crust and the sprinkling of thyme on top to help bring out all the lusciousness that figs have to offer. The recipe below provides for two crusts, simply use half for one tart, and save the rest for later in the freezer (I like to freeze tart shells ahead of time).

INGREDIENTS:
12-15 whole fresh figs, washed
1 Tbs. sugar
1 Tbs. water
2 Sprigs fresh thyme, leaves picked
zest of 1/2 a lemon or orange

INGREDIENTS FOR THE SHORTCRUST PASTRY:* (see note above)
9 Tbs. cold unsalted butter
1 cup powdered sugar
a small pinch of salt
2 cups all-purpose flour
zest of 1/2 a lemon
2 large egg yolks
2 Tbs. cold milk or water

INGREDIENTS FOR FRANGIPANE:
5 oz. blanched whole almonds
3 Tbs. all-purpose flour
1/2 cup plus 1 Tbs. unsalted butter, at room temperature
7 Tbs. granulated sugar
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 vanilla bean, scored lengthwise and seeds removed
1 Tbs. light rum or grappa (optional)

DIRECTIONS:
1. Grease a 9-inch tart pan with a removeable bottom and set aside.
2. To make the pastry dough, cream together the butter, powdered sugar, and salt in a food processor with a dough blade. (You can do this easily by hand, too). Add to this the flour, vanilla seeds. lemon zest, and egg yolks. Pulse until the mixture begins to look like coarse breadcrumbs. Add the cold milk or water, pulsing a few more times until you have a ball of dough. Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and pat it into a ball. Don't overwork the pastry, it will get too elastic instead of remaining nice and flaky. Once the dough has come together, pat it into a disk, flour it, and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Place it into the fridge for at least an hour (can be made a day or two before). Remove the disc of dough from the fridge, roll it out, and line your tart pan. Place in the freezer for one hour (can be frozen like this up to a month in advance, if wrapped in plastic and foil).
2. Preheat the oven to 350 F degrees. Bake the pastry shell for 12 minutes, or until it is lightly golden. Remove from the oven and turn the heat down to 325.
3. Make the frangipane by grinding 4 oz. of the almonds in a food processor with the sharp blade until it becomes a fine powder. Transfer this to a large bowl with the flour. Now beat the butter and sugar in the food processor until it becomes light and creamy. Add to this the almond and flour mixture, along with the lightly beaten egg, vanilla seed, and run. Fold in the mixture until completely smooth and incorporated. Place the frangipane in the fridge for at least 30 minutes to firm up and set.
4. While you wait for the frangipane to set, remove the stems from the fresh figs. Score each one on the top in the shape of an X, then using your thumb, push up from the base to open the figs like little flowers.
5. Spoon the chilled frangipane mixture into the cooled pastry shell, then lightly arrange and push the figs into the frangipane with the score side up. Heat the tablespoon of sugar and water until dissolved and drizzle this syrup over the figs. Roughly chop the remaining 1 oz. of almonds and sprinkle over the top of the tart along with the thyme leaves and remaining lemon zest.
6. Bake the tart for about 40 minutes, until the frangipane has become firm and golden on the outside, while staying soft in the middle. For the last 5 minutes of baking time, I turned my oven back up to 350 to get that golden sheen on top. Allow the tart to cool for 30-40 minutes at least before serving.
7. Serve with a little creme fraiche or mascarpone, and sprinkle with cinnamon.
YIELD: 6-8 servings. Keeps for a day or two, but best eaten the same day.

Quick Sichuan Pepper Pickles

I am a pickle person. If I see a pickle plate on a menu, it's impossible to steer me away. The more sour and vinegary the better. I like pickled everything: apricots, haricots verts, watermelon rind, but there’s nothing quite like a nice, crisp cucumber pickle.

I often make my own cornichons, using oak leaves like the old Russian ladies at the farmer’s market do to keep that snap! when you first bite into them, but I was adrift last week when I got that familiar pang for something tart and realized I was all out. I needed something nice and quick. I remembered hearing about these Sichuan-style pickles in the Canal House volume my mom sent me earlier this summer. 

These refrigerator pickles are very peppery, and bright as all get out. There are even quicker pickles out there, but I love the gently sweet-and-sour brine on these lil’ guys. I used some of the Kirby and Japanese cucumbers from my garden and a few lemon cukes from the garden fairy who has been leaving veggies in the lobby from time to time. The original recipe called for over a dozen Japanese cucumbers, but I think it’s more interesting to mix it up a little.

Li's Sichuan Pepper and Ginger Pickles

Adapted from Li-fan Huang's Recipe featured in The Canal House series

I love the gingery, spicy snap of these pickles. I love lots of heat, so I added a few dried chilies and coriander seeds. They're great to snack on while cooking other things, or to tide over a few friends who have come over for dinner. They keep for two weeks in the fridge, but I finished mine within a couple of days, they were so good!

INGREDIENTS:
8-10 cucumbers, washed and sliced into 1/2-inch-thick rounds, enough to fit inside a quart-size container comfortably.
1 Tbs. kosher salt
1 1/2 Tbs. vegetable oil
1-2 large pinches of Sichuan peppercorns**
1 small pinch of coriander seeds
1-2 dried Thai birds-eye chilies (optional)
3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 fat finger of fresh ginger, peeled and thinly sliced
2 Tbs. natural sugar
3/4 cup rice wine vinegar

DIRECTIONS:
1. Put the slices of cucumber in a large bowl, sprinkle with the salt, mix well, and set aside.
2. Heat the oil over medium heat in a large skillet, add the peppercorns and coriander seeds and sauté for about 3 minutes to release their flavor. (If you like a less spicy pickle, Li suggests that you remove and disard about three quarters of the peppercorns at this point). Add the garlic, ginger, and birds-eye chilies if using, and sauté for another 3 minutes. Add the sugar and rice wine vinegar and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally, until the sugar melts.
3. Drain the cucumbers of any liquid, but leave the salt on. Then pour the hot vinegar, along with the garlic, ginger, peppercorns, and chilies, and toss to combine. Transfer to a quart-size container or mason jar with a tight-fitting lid.
4. Refridgerate pickles for a couple of days, turning at least twice a day to give everything a chance to marinate evenly. The pickles are now ready to eat.
YIELD: 1 quart of pickles. Keeps about 2 weeks in the refridgerator.

* This is a small batch, cut in half from the original recipe. If you’re curious to see the original recipe, go here and secure yourself a copy of the Canal House book. They’re printed in small batches by two women from New Jersey who used to work at Saveur. Each volume is written according to the season (the one I have is for summertime), and include beautiful shots of the unfussy, simple recipes. I’ve tried the poached peaches in wine w/ tarragon, the steaks w/ parsley butter, and fritto misto, all to great gusto and satisfaction.
** If you don't have sichuan peppercorns, a mix of black and white peppercorns will work, too.