Fungus Among Us

Family legend has it that I was no older than three when I first went mushroom picking with my mother. I don’t recall the particular instance, but I’m sure that, by the time I attended pre-school, it had become a regular activity for me.

We lived in the North Caucasus, in a river gorge surrounded by wooded mountains, and it was the early 1980s. Wild mushrooms were both abundant and a necessity, because in the twilight years of the planned economy, whatever extra food you could stockpile, you needed. We lived in a community of astrophysicists, and every second family had a land plot for a vegetable garden. Come summer, everyone went mushroom picking.

My mother’s favorite words about this activity were “Every mushroom picker has his own mushroom in the forest” (У каждого грибника в лесу свой гриб). She would utter this mantra whenever we met someone coming out of the forest with a full basket as we were going in, implying that there were plenty waiting for us amid the trees. And it always turned out to be true.

In the years before the influx of tourists stamped out the majority of mycelium, the quantity and variety of mushrooms was staggering. We were picky gatherers, and only took what my father termed “first grade mushrooms.” We simply side-stepped common varieties like Russulas, and only picked pepper-mushrooms (also known as milk mushrooms) for our city relatives, who could only acquire this delicacy through us. The milk mushrooms had to be soaked for a few days under weights, then salted.

As for ourselves, we would only pick porcinis, birch boletes and aspens, along with saffron milk cups and chanterelles, and some slippery jacks and lurid boletes thrown in for company. Saffron milk cups, which we hunted in the pine forests, were for pickling, and a true delicacy. Some years the harvest was ample, and our fridge would fill up with tins full of bright, orange mushrooms. Other years, the mushrooms would hide.

Porcinis could also be pickled, but mostly my mother would cut them up, along with the birch boletes and aspens, give them a first drying in the oven, then I would thread them with a needle, and we would hang them above the stove to continue drying. Once they were completely dry, they could be stored in a pantry or mailed to grandparents. In the winter, my mother would take out a handful, rehydrate them, and use them to make the mushroom soup that was her signature dish whenever guests arrived. These days, with ample freezer space, she rarely dries mushrooms, preferring to boil and then freeze them for winter use.

Chanterelles, on the other hand, were considered a mushroom best eaten fresh. The most traditional dish that everyone in Russia seems to have a recipe for is chanterelles fried with potatoes, but chanterelles fried in sour cream, or a mushroom julienne, where diced mushrooms are baked in a heavy cream sauce in small, one-portion metal ramekins, were also popular.

When I lived in the US in the early 1990s, my first summer was spent with an American family whose house stood at the edge of a small forest. One day I exited that forest with a bunch of birch boletes. The family demanded I throw them out, fearing the mushrooms might be poisonous. Times have changed, and wild mushroom picking is a thing in the US now, and many Americans are familiar with more than the common button mushrooms available in supermarkets. So here’s the recipe for some savory muffins with chanterelles – the best of both worlds.

Savory Mushroom Muffins

¼ lb fresh (or rehydrated from dried) chanterelles
2 Tbsp olive oil
4-5 dried apricots, chopped fine
2 Tbsp hazelnuts, toasted and chopped fine

1 egg, beaten
¾ cup milk
⅓ cup olive oil

1¾ cup flour
⅛ cup sugar
2½ tsp baking powder
¾ tsp salt

Preheat oven to 400º.

The chanterelles should be washed and chopped fine. Fry them in 2 Tbsp of olive oil on high heat for just a couple of minutes, as they will continue cooking in the muffins. 

If you use dried chanterelles, you will need to rehydrate them first, which can be done by putting them into a covered container with boiling water, and allowing it to sit in a warm place for an hour. Pat dry then chop and fry as above.

Combine the egg, milk and olive oil in a small mixing bowl
and whisk until light.

Mix the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder together in a larger
bowl, then make a well in the middle and pour in the liquid
mixture. Stir the batter just until all dried ingredients are
incorporated, then add the chanterelles, apricots and
hazelnuts. Be careful not to overmix. 

Place the batter into lined or oiled muffin cups and
bake for 20-25 minutes.