The American Farmer’s Table

Melissa’s father, Fran, grew up mushrooming with his father and grandfather, who brought his passion for foraging to America when he immigrated here in the early 1900’s from a small village in the Campania region of southern Italy. Fran in turn has been teaching us the finer intricacies and secrets of finding delicious mushrooms growing in the wild. Every fall we take the dogs and go deep into the woods and search for a variety of mushrooms on the forest floor. Wild mushrooms have a distinct earthiness to them that is pleasantly pungent and taste nothing like the cultivated varieties in our grocery stores. My first experience eating a NY strip roast that had been roasted with fresh wild mushrooms was a revelation as to why people become fanatical about seeking out their own in the wild.

Yesterday, on my drive home from work, I got a call from Fran whose voice was frantic and urgent. Chanterelles, thousands of them – were growing all over his friend’s back yard. We went later that day and it was no joke. Clusters of beautiful, yellow, trumpet shaped mushrooms were sprouting everywhere. New mulch had recently been laid made from trees that must have contained Chanterelle spores. The intense humidity and sweltering heat of this summer and this past weekend’s thunderstorms created the perfect micro-climate for the mushrooms to sprout. An hour was spent collecting all of them, leaving the roots and cutting them with a knife and scissors, in hopes that they will grow again in the future. We made a simple pasta inspired from the bounty in which the delicate and natural flavor of the Chanterelle shine. It’s a taste that resonates with old world, unadulterated flavor and a rusticity that reminds us of meals we’ve had in Italy.