Holly A. Heyser
One of my favorite things in the world is to gorge on a fresh, seasonal ingredient when it's abundant. I eat tomatoes every day in August. I once binged on mackerel for several weeks straight in spring. And in April I eat so much asparagus my pee smells funny all month.
But there is nothing quite like a full-on gorge with an ingredient so fragile and so rare as a wild mushroom, in this case the spring porcini Holly and I found with Langdon Cook last week. These are the ingredients you can't replace easily, so you want every bite to count.
We wound up with more than enough fresh porcini for three big meals after our trip, and I was hoping to make this a binge to remember.
But last year I failed to write down the recipe for both the raw porcini salad and the lacquered porcini—and both were pretty awesome. So I remade both recipes.
Holly A. Heyser
Porcini are one of the few wild mushrooms you can eat raw, and I like their slightly crunchy texture here. Spring porcini taste milder than fall ones, so I used a light hand with an oregano-lemon vinaigrette to dress it. The dish still lacked a bass note, however, so I julienned some cured lamb loin and tossed it in with the porcini. Much better. Incidentally, you can do this recipe with regular button mushrooms, too.
The lacquered porcini are based off a recipe for glazed enoki mushrooms I'd found in Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art. Only I went with Western flavors: butter and a sweet wine.
I kinda feel dirty for which wine I chose, too—I used a splash of a 1974 Heitz Cellars Angelica. I got the wine when I was researching Angelica for Gastronomica magazine, and it is very special, as only a sweet, 30-year-old oxidized wine could be. I have no idea how expensive it is, but using it in a pan sauce felt like wiping my ass with hundred-dollar bills. Someday I might just have to do that to see how it feels; I'm betting scratchy.
Holly A. Heyser
The recipe for lacquered porcini is ridiculously simple, and can be done with lesser mushrooms and lesser wine. Cremini and Marsala would be what I'd suggest as cheaper substitutes.
Lang says he likes to grill his porcini, and I reckoned Lang would know—he eats way more of them than I do. We also came home with some morels, but not really enough to make a meal in themselves. So I decided on an encore performance of the morel sauce I served with venison a couple of weeks ago, only using grilled porcini as the stand-in for the venison.
Holly really outdid herself on this one; I can just stare at this picture for hours. The porcini take on a meaty texture when grilled, but they're still pretty mild. The morel sauce, made with Port, demi-glace, and shallots, adds weight to the dish. It is always a big-time drool fest when I bring this sauce out, and we could've eaten every one of the porcini this way and been perfectly happy.
But I had another idea. Anyone ever eat at Alinea, Grant Achatz's place in Chicago? No? Neither have I. A bit beyond my tax bracket. But I did buy Achatz's book, Alinea, which is as daunting as his food. My friend Carol Blymire is cooking her way through this book, and her adventures in molecular gastronomy are one of my guilty-pleasure reads every week.