Mushrooms, shallots, sage, cream and Parmesan combine to make a rich, satisfyingly “meaty” vegetarian meal. Recipe for Sautéed Chanterelles with Cream and Linguine Fini below.
The day before Marion cooked these chanterelles in our Chicago kitchen, they were in a stall in Seattle’s Pike Place Market. Not much more before that, they had been in a nearby forest. We were in the market on the last morning of our first visit to the Pacific Northwest. Our luggage was already overstuffed with food purchases, many in glass containers padded with laundry in the hope they would survive the flight home. But when we saw these mushrooms, we knew we had to squeeze some into our carry-on bags. I’ll turn the kitchen over to Marion now and let her tell you what she did with them.
In another earlier life, I used to gather chanterelles in the wild all summer. It was such an everyday thing that I took it totally for granted. It was part of the season, like swimsuits and the beach. I would be driving along some gravel country road through a spruce forest, and pull the car over, grab a bag or basket and walk around for 20 or 30 minutes until I had found enough.
Species of chanterelle grow across North America and Europe. Here in the Midwest, golden chanterelles are available in summer; in the Pacific Northwest, they fruit from about September to March. Closely related species may be gathered in Europe too. They can’t be cultivated, so every chanterelle you see in a market has been foraged in the wild. Throughout their range, the best place to find them is under conifers. In Nova Scotia, I used to find them under spruce and hemlock. I hear that in some parts of North America, such as Texas and California, they associate with oaks.
Which reminds me to advise you to exercise caution whenever you are mushroom hunting—the chanterelle is very distinctive, but there are fairly similar species, such as the Jack o’Lantern, which can make you sick. And of course when you are wandering in the woods, pay attention to where you are—especially in the wide-open West, bring a compass, watch for landmarks, remain aware of your location and your footing, and avoid crossing into places where you can get into a jam.
The availability of chanterelles here in the Midwest is pretty modest. In the Pacific Northwest, it is easier to forage for them, or you can find them at farmers markets absolutely all over. (Sometimes even Costco sells them.) At Sosio’s Produce stand in Pike Place Market, we paid about $11 a pound for these, which sounds like an awful lot, except that in the summer, when I saw some not very attractive dryish specimens at a farmers market here in Chicago, the price was $36 a pound. Wowser.
There are many, many ways to use these wonderful mushrooms. Roast them in olive oil with finely minced onion and sage. Sauté them with bacon and then add them to a frittata. Stuff them into ravioli. Use them in a simple sauce to serve alongside a roast chicken or bistro steaks. You can also dry them (gently, at about 145º to 150ºF in the oven, or in a very hot sunroom or garage). Pickle them. And once they are sautéed, you may freeze them and thaw later with only slight flavor loss.
Since it had been so long since we’ve had these wonderful mushrooms, we decided to go with a preparation that would be simple yet luxurious. And while the locally foraged chanterelles traveled with us from Seattle, the fresh sage came from our own backyard. When this dish is ready, it will be gorgeous, with the deep golden mushrooms, the pale golden sauce, the freckles of sage and black pepper and a rich, elegant aroma and flavor. It’s just beautiful.
Sautéed Chanterelles with Cream and Linguine Fini
Serves 3 to 4
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
8 ounces cream, divided
1 pound fresh chanterelles, torn lengthwise into pieces (see Kitchen Notes)
1-1/2 teaspoons fresh sage, finely minced
1/3 cup shallots, finely minced (one large shallot)
1/3 cup sherry
Salt, pepper
Parmesan
10 ounces linguine fini
Melt 3-1/2 tablespoons butter in a large, heavy skillet. When it is melted and spread evenly on the bottom of the pan, pour in the chopped shallot and chopped sage, stir and saute until the shallots are translucent—it should be about three to four minutes. Then add the mushrooms all at once. Stir them to evenly coat with the butter and the shallots.
At this point, start the water for the pasta.
Sauté the chanterelles over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until they release their liquid (it won’t be a huge amount of liquid, and it should take about 10 minutes for this to happen). When you see the liquid appear, salt lightly, grate pepper generously over the whole, and pour six ounces of the cream plus all the sherry into the mushrooms; stir, then let everything all simmer together gently for a little while. In an ideal world, the water will have come to a boil and you can now cook the pasta while the chanterelles meld nicely with the cream. The mushrooms will have shrunk pretty dramatically, and now the cream will cook down and turn a lovely gold color.
Put the remaining cream and butter into a small pan and heat it gently until the butter melts. Swirl it together.
When the pasta is done, rinse it in hot water. Add the cream-and-butter mixture to the sauce, stir and toss. To serve, put the pasta in a warm bowl, pour most of the mushrooms and sauce over it, and toss thoroughly with a pair of forks. Then plate and top with the remaining sauce, some handsome mushrooms and a generous grating of Parmesan, and serve.
Kitchen Notes
The switch. You can use most any fresh mushrooms for this dish. They all will be yummy.
The scrub. To clean chanterelles, examine them and gently brush off any visible dirt. There shouldn’t be much. Also, chanterelles tend not to have insect infestations.
The choice. When choosing chanterelles at market, select those that look clean and whole and feel slightly moist and firm; they will have a slightly fruity aroma—some people compare it to apricots. Also the mushroom’s surface should look fairly smooth and not as if ravaged. If the only ones you can find feel paper-dry or look filthy, or have track-like marks, consider skipping them.
The heat. Always cook chanterelles before eating—don’t eat them raw, for instance on a salad. Some people are sensitive to raw chanterelles.
The cut. Don’t. When you are preparing them, don’t slice them with a knife—tear them lengthwise.
The shrink. When you cook them, don’t be alarmed, but they are going to shrink about 30 to 40 percent. That’s just what they do.
Beautiful. Delicious. I can smell this meal as I read your recipe.
And that photo on the yellow table makes me happy.
God what specimens! I usually come across ones that resemble those you describe in Chicago rather than the Pacific Northwest version. And the mushroom guy at our farmer’s market tragically sticks strictly to cremini, oysters and shitakes. I have such food jealousy looking at this…hope you had a good trip!
Our farmer’s market is loaded with mushrooms this time of year, so this dish is definitely on the docket. (I’ve seen pictures of the deadly and the benign and they look the same to me. So no foraging in my future.)
Wow. That looks amazing!
I have never foraged for my own mushrooms, so it’s hard for me to imagine that it would be such a commonplace activity for others. I do love mushrooms though. We have been getting some great oyster mushrooms from our farmers’ market and cooking them with leeks and sage. Your pasta dish looks wonderful. We will have to keep that in mind as another variation. Thanks.
Thanks, Christina! That table always cheers us up.
Laura, it was one of the best trips we ever had.
Altadenahiker, we never take any mushrooms in the wild unless we are triple-extra sure what they are. There are plenty we pass by.
Thanks, The French!
City Share, your dish sounds wonderful.
Looks delicious! We have great mushrooms out here in the Pacific Northwest. You should definately come back in the spring for the morels! They are a little more rare, but are obviously more distinctive, less guess work when foraging for them!
I really need to go to Pike Place and get some of those chanterelles. I used to get them at the market in Munich all the time (very popular in Germany). They are delicious. Thanks for reminding me how much I enjoyed them. Your recipe sounds absolutely divine. Thanks for sharing!
Up here in Michigan, we get loads of chanterelles all summer long. The season moves north as the season progresses, but with a little luck, we can enjoy them for several months.
Thanks, Dime Store Foodie! And like Terry said, we are already talking about our next trip.
Jackie, thanks for visiting!
David, you’ve got a great looking mushroom recipe on your site right now.
Please adopt me! I’m income generating. All I ask is that you let me have dinner at your house three times a week!!!
Ellen: OK! And maybe sometimes we can all go for a sail.
We made this for dinner on Monday night and it was amazing! Our chanterelles were a little bit more, but so worth it!
We scored some fresh chanterelles from a friend whose neighbor forages here in the Monroe, WA area and made this pasta for dinner. We substiuted marsala for the sherry and onion for the shallot. An instant Fall classic for our family – it was wonderful. Thank you so much.
Jamie, thank you! I am so glad you tried the recipe. It really is worth it.
Randy, thank you for the comment and for letting us know your variation. I wish I could be making it tonight!
Had made my own concoction with chanterelles a few years back but made the mistake of not writing down what I did. Fast forward to 2016’s crop, available from Costco. Found this recipe and decided to make it just about straight up (3/4 tsp. dried, not fresh, sage; 6 ounces thin spaghetti for two people; one egg yolk + 1/2 T. butter, tempered with hot cream from the pan, then blended and added in for a little more body.) I cooked the thin spaghetti for ~4 minutes in salted water, then transferred directly into the pan with the chanterelles to soak up the cream/sherry sauce and cooked for another ~4 minutes. The spaghetti ended up perfectly al dente. While good, it is definitely in need of more sage-iness, as its flavor was largely muted, and any amount of freshly cracked black pepper overwhelms the delicateness of the chanterelles.
So where do I go from here? I don’t know. This was very good as is, but I keep hoping for something to draw me back to that original creation from five years ago. Every fall when the chanterelles are available in Costco, I pick up one or two packages to fiddle with the rediscovery process, all to no avail. It’s always good, as this recipe was, but there’s just something slightly amiss. Oh well. Thanks for the recipe!