One of our favorite fall events is the Mendocino Wine and Mushroom Festival. This annual event is slated to occur during the height of our wild mushroom season. That is, of course, if the weather cooperates, which it manages to do about one in every three or so years. This year, early rains guaranteed a bounty of wild mushrooms, and thus, as successful festival.

 

 

My mushroom adventures started in earnest around the end of October. I took to wandering up and down our old logging roads with my shoulders slumped and my eyes on the ground, hoping for that flash of color amongst the forest duff. My first mushroom of the year was a 6” white Chanterelle, found at the side of the road just down the ravine from the house. Sliced and sautéed with butter and a little brandy, it made a wonderful topping for our Sunday pasta.

 

 

The golden Chanterelles were the next to emerge. These are generally found in patches, in and around tan oak thickets. The trees are considered a weed in our largely fir and redwood forests, but provide the perfect environment for the mushrooms. While smaller and more colorful than the whites, many say that the flavor of the golden is superior. They command a hefty $17.00 per pound at our local market, so are a real treat when found in any numbers. The great thing about Chanterelles is that they seem to remain worm and grub free, even in the dampest weather.

 

 

The next mushrooms to poke their heads from the ground were the Boletus, or porcini, as they are known in Italy. In our neighborhood, we see the giant King Bolete, the darker Queen Bolete, and a smaller, more colorful variety called the Zeller’s Bolete. These are the mushrooms most sought after by the commercial hunters, and often the most ridden with small worm holes unless found within hours of emergence. This year, I was lucky enough to receive a gift of a large box of gigantic King Boletus, some with caps measuring over 8” across. I was picking up my order of mushrooms for the cooking class, and my local purveyor offered them up to use as props for presentation, since they were far too large and wormy to be sold commercially. The upside of this arrangement was that, once we were finished with the class and the tasting event that followed, these could be cleaned, sliced and dried. The almost six pounds of mushrooms were reduced, the following weekend, to about twelve ounces of prime dried mushrooms and six half-pints of concentrated porcini stock for the freezer.

 

 

The Magic Mushroom cooking class we presented, and the food and wine pairing that followed, were the highlights of the week. Seven students arrived at the kitchen, ready to prepare six different mushroom appetizers. Aprons were assigned, hands were washed, and four hours later, a beautiful array of food was enjoyed, paired with a 2007 Paul Dolan Sauvignon Blanc and a 2003 McDowell Valley Vineyards Coro Mendocino.

 

 

 

After seeing the satisfied cooks on their way, we plated the balance of the appetizers and packed them off to The Beachcomber Motel for our ‘Shrooms and Sunset at the Beach, with Handley Cellars wines and some of the Mendocino coast’s best views. Mother Nature cooperated once again, and our guests were treated to a spectacular sunset, an amazing absence of wind, and a bounty of wonderful food and wine. Our guests were so amazed with the huge mushrooms scattered around the buffet that one of them even asked us to take his picture holding the giant boletus.

 

 

 

Back in the forest, the cooler weather continues to advance the cast of fungi making their appearances. Now we are seeing the Lactarius or “Milk Caps” named for their milky juices, the Russula, which are rosy pink on white, and an occasional white Matsutake, the famous full moon mushrooms of Japan. Later frosts will bring the Yellow Foot, also known as the Winter Chanterelle, and one of my personal favorites, the Candy Cap. The Candy Cap, when dried, smells and tastes just like maple syrup, and can be infused into milk or cream for the most decadent desserts. For grins, try the Candy Cap Ice Cream at Cowlick’s in Fort Bragg, available only during the mushroom season.

Who would have thought that one of my favorite dim sum, turnip cakes, was not made of turnips as we know them at all, but out of daikon radish? I received some beautiful fresh picked turnips in my CSA box last April, and was searching for recipes using turnips that my husband would enjoy. While a somewhat adventuresome eater, he is not a fan of the likes of parsnips, turnips, celery root and other “underground” vegetables. Remembering that we both enjoy turnip cakes, I turned to Google, and discovered this startling fact. That week, the turnips ended up in a mixed vegetable soup, and the recipe was filed away for use in my vegetable cooking class the following month.

 

The other day, while reading other food blogs, I began to crave dim sum. We live on the north coast of California, in a very small town, and our Chinese food is generally not prepared by Chinese cooks. It is approximately two hours one way to the closest dim sum restaurant, so prospects looked dim on a Thursday night. Then I remembered the recipe for turnip cakes. The ingredients were fairly simple to assemble, and the daikon was readily available at the local market. I substituted bacon for Chinese ham, and fish sauce for dried shrimp, as my husband is deathly allergic to shellfish in general and shrimp in particular. I also had no Shaoshing rice wine, but blended a little brandy with mirin and a touch of Chinese black vinegar for an acceptable replacement.

 

The recipe looks long and involved, but in reality, most of the time required is for cooking and cooling the cake itself. I started out around four, and we were eating a little after six. As with all stir fry dishes, it is important to prepare and assemble all of the ingredients in advance of the cooking, and place them conveniently close to the stove. Otherwise, you will be flying around the kitchen with one eye on the sizzling wok so as to grab the crucial missing item while not burning the contents of the pan.

 

For a dipping sauce, I combined equal parts sweet chili sauce and soy sauce. You can either choose to dip the individual bites, or drizzle the sauce around the cakes, as I did. The finished cakes were a little darker than ones I have enjoyed in dim sum restaurants, but I chalk that up to the fact that there was sugar in the mirin that built up on the wok while frying the mushrooms that was absorbed by the turnip as it cooked, darkening the strips to a medium brown instead of a creamy beige. However, the flavor was fabulous, and far more authentic than anything I could get locally. The also reheat beautifully in the microwave, and the texture remains good, even the next day.

 

 

1 ½ cups white rice flour

4 dried shiitake mushrooms

1 thick slice bacon or pancetta

1 oz dried shrimp (or substitute 1 tsp fish sauce)

1 Chinese white turnip (what we know as daikon)

Peanut or vegetable oil

1 tablespoon Shaoshing wine

1 teaspoon dark soy sauce

1 teaspoon salt

 

In a large bowl, combine the rice flour and 1 ½ cups water and mix well until combined and smooth, set aside. Soak mushrooms in hot water until softened. In a separate bowl, repeat with the dried shrimp (if using). Blanch bacon in boiling water until softened. Remove and pat dry. Chop finely and set aside. Drain and chop mushrooms and shrimp, set aside. Peel turnip and slice into ½” slices. Fan slices and slice into ½” strips. Combine wine, soy sauce and fish sauce (if using) in a small bowl.

 

Heat oil in wok over high heat. Stir fry mushrooms (and shrimp, if using) until fragrant. Add wine mixture and stir fry until mushrooms are well coated. Add the bacon, cook for another 1-2 minutes, remove from heat and set aside. In the same wok, add more oil, and stir fry the turnip strips for 2-3 minutes. Pour in 2 cups water, place a lid on the wok, and steam until turnip is just cooked through and not mushy. Pour the hot turnip mixture into the bowl with the rice flour mixture and stir to combine thoroughly. Add the bacon, shrimp, mushrooms and salt, stirring until everything is evenly distributed. 

 

Coat a round cake pan with pan spray or oil, and pour mixture in, tapping on the counter to remove bubbles and even up top surface. Steam in your wok, adding boiling water as necessary, for 30 minutes or until cake springs back when touched in the center and is firm throughout. Cool on a rack for about an hour.

 

Loosen the cake from the pan and invert onto a cutting board. Slice into 1” by 3” rectangles. Heat a film of oil in a non-stick skillet, and fry cakes, in batches, until golden brown on each side. Serve hot with your choice of oyster sauce, soy sauce or chili sauce.