Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Chanterelle Hunting...

When I was a little girl (seems like a looong time ago...) my family would go to Oregon to visit various relatives, and in the fall, we'd get to go Chanterelle mushroom hunting with my Grandparents. 

Now, anyone who knows me knows I always ask the waiter for my dishes sans 'shrooms, I really hate the texture (this from someone who remembers what play-doh tastes like...).  However, I fondly remember trudging through the forest, carefully looking for these perfect little mushrooms, trying to avoid any poisonous ones (what's a kid know - yes, they were always double checked by Grandma; wonder how many she threw out??).  Once the bag was full of plump and perfect 'shrooms, we would head on home and wait for the feast. 

My Grandma, like Grandma's used to do (...some may still...) would grow what she liked, can lots of stuff, hunt up mushrooms (see above), pick wild berries for jams and pies, fish for dinner (may have been Grandpa on that one...), and make food for everyone.  And we always played outside, no TV (...can't imaging that today...).  When we made it back from mushroom hunting, Grandma would clean them off and get ready to cook them, dipping them in batter and frying them up, like big steaks (...no, I don't batter my steak, but I remember everyone kept saying, just cook them like steak...why??).  And we'd eat them as soon as they were ready, and there was nothing quite like the taste of fresh picked Chanterelles.  They didn't have that odd mushroom texture, and they did remind one of steak, even though they weren't juicy.  And Fall, they always remind me of Fall with their golden coloring, and harvest, and afternoons in the forest and around the kitchen counter.

So, the other day I was wandering the produce aisle at one of our upscale grocery stores (O'Briens here in Modesto, excellent food choices, good prices...), and saw a basket of fresh Chantrells.  These were on the small side, I don't believe it's quite harvesting time yet, but they looked perfect to me.  I grabbed a little handful (...these are expensive 'shrooms...$29 a pound...oh to go find my own without poisoning myself...that would be a trick.)  This morning I saw that forgotten handful in my fridge, and feeling really hungry, not to mention ready for Fall, I grabbed them, with a small shallot and some eggs.  I wanted to make a quiche, but really, I was hungry, so settled on an omelet. 

This is not something I cook well - my omelets are a bit flat and brown on the bottom...my dad can make these perfect and fluffy - the talent was not passed down.  So after calling my dad (...the omelet guy...he knows everything...) I sauteed a bit of shallot and Chantrelle in butter, set them aside, then made my omelet.  Once it was almost done and ready to fold (...I need practice, don't blame the pictures on my dad's teaching, he'd be horrified at what they look like...love you daddy!)  I threw on some shredded cheese (...Parmesan Reggianito, from Argentina, by way of O'Briens Supermarket...they have the best cheese shop there!  and this stuff is the most delicious cheese, great with pasta, wonderful full flavor...), tossed in my shallots and Chanterelles, and folded the omelet. 

Now, you see the picture before you...it was a tad brown on the top and bottom, and a bit flat and messy looking, but mmmm...yummy.  Chantrelles had their nice fall flavor, the butter and shallot added a nice bit of toastiness to it, and the amazing Parmesan Reggianito flavor really brought it all together with a smooth, nutty creaminess (hmmm...)...  I still think a quiche would have been better, but this was good.  And it reminded me of happy childhood memories and the fact that Fall is on the way...

1 comment:

  1. Your story reminded me of my grandmother. Every August she would can tomatoes she grew in her garden. She had an outside kitchen, actually just a shed with a stove, sink and lots of counter space. It was behind her house. When August comes I can still remember the aroma of tomatoes being peeled and jarred. My job was to rinse the tomatoes in a large tin pan, the kind we used for bobbing for apples at Halloween. I see you have wonderful memories of your grandmother too. The older I get the more I want to be like her.

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