Erica De Mane

Recipes:

Chanterelle and Arugula Salad with Parmigiano and Cognac
Bruschetta with Mushrooms and Mascarpone
Mushrooms and Fennel Braised with Sweet Wine
Chanterelles Braised with String Beans and Tomatoes
Tagliatelle with Chanterelles, Dry Vermouth, and Prosciutto
Spaghetti with Roasted Pepper and Basil Purée

Several years ago, when I was in southeastern Sicily in a town called Gangi, I saw several locals traipsing through the woods hunting for mushrooms. I assumed they were gathering porcinis, and since I sadly happen to be highly allergic to porcinis, their activity struck me more as a threat than as a pleasure. But when I asked I learned that they were foraging for the pastel-orange chanterelles that Italians call finferli. They grow wild in that area. They looked very much like the fancy grocery-store chanterelles I was used to cooking, so I bravely ate some for dinner that night at a local restaurant. They were absolutely delicious simply sautéed with garlic and parsley, and I felt fine afterward. A few years later during the early fall I was in upstate New York, near Phoenicia, at an inn my husband and I have been going to for years, and the French owner told us that she’d been hunting for chanterelles in the woods all morning and had found so many she had put them on the evening menu. I was very surprised to learn that these special mushrooms grow wild only a few hours from Manhattan. After several very bad adventures in porcine eating, I’m always a little hesitant to try any wild mushroom, especially those collected by an amateur mycologist, but my memory of the wild chanterelles in Sicily gave me courage and desire. The upstate chanterelles looked identical to the ones I had tried in Sicily, but the kitchen prepared them French style, seeped in cream and cognac and finished with a flurry of tarragon; they tasted almost fruity.I went mushroom hunting for the first time this September in Duchess County, New York, near Rhinebeck, with a friend who had recently become interested in this pursuit. He showed me the cinnabar chanterelles that grew in clusters near logs in his woodsy backyard. They were about a quarter of the size of the more familiar peachy-beige chanterelles and their color was a brilliant pinky orange. They did however share the trademark chanterelle trumpet shape, and they smelled and tasted and looked very much like the larger ones. Also, they kept their bright color after cooking, though I did find their texture just a touch slippery.

I buy big peachy-beige local chanterelles from July through early fall at the Union Square Greenmarket. They’re collected by the owners of Honey Hollow Farm from the woods of Scoharie County, New York, a bit farther upstate than I usually venture. Their flavor is wonderful, gentle but musky, with a particular fruity undertone that I don’t taste in other wild mushrooms. In mid-September the Honey Hollow people start collecting local porcinis, which look wonderful, but which I don’t dare go near. You, however, can substitute porcinis for any of the recipes I give here for chanterelles .

Chanterelles need gentle cooking to become tender and to bring out their aroma. Flash cooking on high heat can leave them tough (this is also true of porcinis). I often start them in a hot pan with a mix of butter and olive oil and let them sauté about a minute. Then I’ll add wine or brandy, turn the flame to low, and let them gently simmer for about 3 or 4 minutes to cook through. They’ll start giving off some juice that will mingle with the liquor essences to produce an intense little glaze.

Since I’m deprived of porcinis, I now find chanterelle mushrooms a very special treat, and I’m always looking for new ways to prepare them. Here are a few of my recent chanterelle recipes, along with some good Italian-inspired recipes for other wild or cultivated mushrooms. I often buy big cultivated oyster mushrooms at the Greenmarket, and I also enjoy the big, woody hen of the woods. I like the taste of shittakes too, but they add a decidedly non-Italian flavor to a dish, so when I use them I often mix them with a few neutral creminis. The mushrooms in all these recipes are pretty much interchangeable, so use what you can find.

Mushrooms aside, I’ve also started hoarding last-of-the-season sweet peppers, and I love them roasted and then puréed and tossed with spaghetti. The sauce may sound luxurious, but in fact it’s simply constructed, made in a food processor. I share my recipe with you here.

Happy fall cooking.

Chanterelle and Arugula Salad with Parmigiano and Cognac

A splash of cognac, brandy, or Calvados will deepen the taste of any wild mushroom but marries especially well with chanterelles. I find that it brings out their fruity quality.

(Serves 4)

1 large bunch arugula, trimmed of tough stems
A large handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, stemmed but left whole
1 shallot, very thinly sliced
A handful of lightly toasted pine nuts
12 medium chanterelles, halved
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon cognac
1 small chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano

For the dressing:

1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
A few scrapings of nutmeg
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Place the arugula, parsley, shallot, and pine nuts in a large salad bowl. Set up four small salad plates.

Whisk all the ingredients for the dressing together in a small bowl.

In a medium skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil over medium flame. When hot, add the chanterelles, season with salt and black pepper, and sauté a minute to bring out their flavor. Add the cognac and let it boil away. Turn the heat down a bit and let the chanterelles cook another minute or so to become tender.

Pour the dressing over the salad, toss gently, and divide it up onto the four plates. Distribute the chanterelles over the salads. With a sharp vegetable peeler shave a few thin slices of Parmigiano over each salad. Serve right away.

Bruschetta with Mushrooms and Mascarpone

(Serves 4 as a first course)

Extra-virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
2 scallions, thinly sliced, using some of the tender green
About 2 dozen mushrooms(perhaps a mix of cremini, shittake, and maybe one porcini or a few chanterelles)
1 juniper berry, ground with mortar and pestle
Leaves from a few sprigs of thyme, lightly chopped
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
A splash of cognac or brandy
A squeeze of lemon juice
A heaping tablespoon of mascarpone
A handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, lightly chopped
8 slices good-quality crusty Italian bread

In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium-high heat. When the skillet is hot add the scallions, garlic, and mushrooms. Season with the ground juniper berry, thyme, salt, and black pepper, and sauté for about 2 minutes. Add about a tablespoon of cognac or brandy and let it boil away. Add a squeeze of lemon juice. Turn down the heat and let the mushrooms continue to cook for another 3 minutes to become tender. They should now have started to give off some liquid.

Toast the Italian bread on both sides and brush one side of each piece with olive oil.

Turn the heat off under the mushrooms and add the mascarpone and the parsley, mixing everything well. Taste to see if it needs a bit of salt, and add a few grindings of fresh black pepper.

Place the toast on a large serving platter and divide the mushroom mix up onto all the slices, making sure to distribute all the skillet juices. Serve right away.

Mushrooms and Fennel Braised with Sweet Wine

This is a highly seasoned dish to bring you into the world of fall flavors. And it’s a perfect dish for just about any type of pork preparation. It’s especially good with something simple like pork chops sautéed with only a touch of rosemary, alongside which the flavors of the mushrooms and fennel can really stand out.

(Serves 4 as a first course or a side dish)

Extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 medium fennel bulbs, cored and sliced
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced
A small palmful of fennel seeds
A few scrapings of nutmeg
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
3/4 cup sweet wine, such as Muscat de Beaumes de Venise or an Italian moscata
1/2 cup low-salt canned chicken broth
About 2 dozen mixed mushrooms (such as shittakes, a few chanterelles or porcinis, and creminis)
1 large garlic clove, thinly sliced
A few small rosemary sprigs
A splash of Spanish sherry vinegar

In a casserole large enough to eventually hold all the ingredients, heat a tablespoon of olive oil and the tablespoon of butter over medium heat. Add the fennel and the shallots, the fennel seeds, and a few scrapings of nutmeg. Season with a little salt and black pepper and sauté until very lightly golden, about 5 minutes. Add half of the sweet wine and let it boil for a few minutes. Add the chicken broth, turn the heat to low, and simmer, partially covered, until the fennel is tender, about another 10 minutes.

Meanwhile in a large skillet, heat another tablespoon of olive oil over medium-high heat. When hot add the mushrooms, garlic, rosemary sprigs, and a pinch of salt, and sauté about 2 minutes. Add the remaining sweet wine and let it boil for about a minute. Add the mushrooms with all their skillet juices to the casserole with the fennel, and simmer uncovered for another minute or so over medium-low heat to blend all the flavors. Add a splash of Spanish sherry vinegar (about 1/4 teaspoon). This will sharpen all the flavors and bring them into focus. The vegetables should be nice and tender and have a moist glaze all over them with just a bit of liquid at the bottom of the casserole. Give everything a stir and taste for salt, adding a bit if needed. Give the dish a few grindings of black pepper and a drizzle of fresh olive oil. Serve warm.

Chanterelles Braised with String Beans and Tomatoes

I’ve served this alongside a simple but crispy roast duck and the match was delicious. I also like it with a roast chicken or a straightforward grilled or roasted lamb dish.

(Serves 5 as a side dish)

1/2 pound string beans, trimmed
Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 thin slices pancetta, well chopped
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
About 10 medium chanterelles, halved
A few scrapings of nutmeg
Leaves from 3 or 4 large thyme sprigs, chopped
1/4 cup dry Marsala
1 15-ounce can plum tomatoes, with the juice, chopped
Freshly ground black pepper

Blanch the string beans in a large pot of lightly salted, boiling water for 2 minutes. Drain and run cold water over them to stop the cooking and to bring up their color. Drain well.

In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil over medium flame. Add the pancetta and sauté until crisp. Add the garlic and the chanterelles at the same time. Season with a little salt, the nutmeg, and the thyme, and sauté until the chanterelles are just starting to get tender, about 2 minutes. add the Marsala and let it bubble for about a minute. Add the tomatoes and simmer at a lively bubble, uncovered, until the mushrooms are very tender and the sauce is reduced a bit, about four minutes. Add the string beans, give everything a good mix, and simmer for another minute or so, just to blend all the flavors. Add another little pinch of salt, a few generous grindings of black pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil. Serve hot or warm.

Tagliatelle with Chantarelles, Dry Vermouth, and Prosciutto

The saltiness of the prosciutto balances the fruitiness of the chanterelles, and the chanterelles seem to bring out the sweetness of the prosciutto, so in my opinion, this creates a very fine marriage of flavors, in a really simple but elegant pasta dish.

(Serves 6 as a first course)

Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 medium shallots, thinly sliced
About 15 medium Chanterelles, cut in half (quartered if they’re large)
1/4 cup dry vermouth
3/4 cup low-salt canned chicken broth
1 pound fresh tagliatelle
4 very thin slices Italian prosciutto, chopped
Freshly ground black pepper
A squeeze of fresh lemon juice
A large handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, lightly chopped
A chunk of Grana Padano cheese for grating

Set up a large pot of pasta cooking water. Add a generous amount of salt and bring it to a boil.

In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil and two tablespoons of butter over medium flame. When hot, add the shallots, and sauté until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the chanterelles, season with a little salt, and sauté for about 2 minutes, to bring out their flavor. Add the vermouth, and let it bubble until almost evaporated. Add the chicken broth, lower the heat a little, and let this simmer, uncovered, until the mushrooms are tender, about 4 minutes.

Spaghetti with Roasted Pepper and Basil Purée

I’ve been finding beautifully gnarled, red sweet peppers at my Greenmarket so far this fall. Here’s one of the things I’ve been doing with them. I generally use a mix of bright red or even the dark red-wine-colored bell peppers, and a few long, red Italian frying peppers, which are quite sweet.

(Serves 5 as a first course)

7 very ripe, sweet red peppers
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 medium shallots, thinly sliced
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
A very small pinch of ground clove
A pinch of sugar
Leaves from a few sprigs of thyme, chopped
Salt
1/4 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup canned low-salt chicken broth
The zest from 1/2 lemon
1 pound spaghetti
A large chunk of Grana Padano cheese
12 basil leaves, cut into thin strips
Freshly ground black pepper

Place the peppers on a sheet pan and place the pan under a broiler, turning the peppers often until they’re charred all over. Peel and seed them and cut them into large chunks.

In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil and the butter over medium flame. Add the shallots and sauté until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, the roasted peppers, the pinch of clove, sugar, thyme, and a sprinkling of salt, and sauté until everything is soft and fragrant, about 5 minutes. Add the white wine and let it boil for about a minute. Add the chicken broth and simmer, uncovered, for another 2 minutes, just to blend all the flavors. Pour everything into the bowl of a food processor and purée until smooth.

Pour the purée back into the skillet and add the lemon zest.

Cook the spaghetti al dente; drain it, saving about 1/2 cup of the pasta cooking water; and add the spaghetti to the skillet. Add a few grindings of black pepper, a pinch more salt, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil, and toss over low heat for about 30 seconds. Pour the spaghetti into a large, warmed serving bowl. Add the basil and grate in about a heaping tablespoon of the Grana Padano. Toss gently, adding a few tablespoons of the pasta cooking water if necessary for a nice creamy consistency. Serve hot with the remaining chunk of Grana Padano brought to the table.