This week one of the students brought a large bag of wild mushrooms he’d collected while foraging with a mycological group in an area around Mount Hood. He arrived with a couple of varieties, all aromatic, pristine, firm, and not soggy. I suggested that we use some to make custards.
We set to work cleaning them, wiping rather than washing, to rid them of needles or woody debris they picked up from the forest floor. They didn’t show signs of being dirty or sandy so I didn’t think it was necessary to submerge them in water. That would only dilute their natural flavor. I wouldn’t have hesitated washing however if they showed any signs of needing it.
We discovered the stems to be fibrous, so we removed and discarded them. Some flavor could have been salvaged if we’d stewed them to flavor a broth but I didn’t. We had enough cleaned, picked mushroom heads to fill a 9-inch sauté pan, in a single layer. It was about 2 cups. We turned the heat to medium-high, sprinkled the mushrooms lightly with salt, and placed a lid on the pan. We waited for the salt to draw water, then turned the heat to low and continued to stew the mushrooms until they were tender.
We checked on the cooking every few minutes, and whenever we tasted one, and it was chewy, I told him, “Think of them like meat, and cook them through.” I kept advising him to put the lid back and continue cooking. He commented that these particular mushrooms didn’t seem to offer much flavor when cooked at home.
As soon as the mushrooms started to show some sign of softening, I had him add about a cup of good, homemade chicken broth, and then cooked them dry without the lid. As the stock reduced the mushrooms started to give off some lovely nutty, woodsy aroma. It automatically drew my nose into the skillet. I called the students over, had them smell. Then I tossed a sprinkle of salt, stirred quickly and had them smell again; the flavor was clear and distinctive. “Now I understand,” he said, “why I didn’t get flavor from them when I cooked them previously, I didn’t cook them enough.”
I told him to prepare about 8 small custards, using 2-ounce ramekins. I reminded him that the formula for making the custards calls for using 3 eggs per cup of milk. I suggested that he use half and half for the milk; that he liquefy half the mushrooms in the half and half; and use two whole eggs and two yolks. Once the mushrooms are liquefied in the half and half, then add the eggs, and pulse enough to homogenize. Taste, then season to bring the flavor up. “If you need more of the mixture to fill the 8 ramekins,” I instructed, “make another batch. And bake them at 325o until they are set. I will probably take half an hour.”
WILD MUSHROOM FLAN
1-cup wild mushrooms, picked, cleaned, coarsely chopped (about 1/4 pound)
Pinch of salt
1 tablespoon unsalted butter (additional butter for the ramekins)
1-cup chicken stock
2 cups half and half
4 whole eggs
4 egg yolks
Put the mushrooms in a 9-inch skillet; sprinkle about half a teaspoon over the surface. Heat the pan over medium flame, cover, turn the heat down and simmer for 3 to 5 minutes, until the mushrooms give up their water. Continue simmering until the mushrooms are soft and tender. Add the chicken broth and continue cooking until it is completely evaporated. Add the tablespoons of butter and continue cooking another minute or two until you begin to see some caramelization on the mushrooms.
Remove the mushrooms to a blender, add the half and half, and liquefy. Add the whole eggs and yolks, and liquefy another 30 seconds till homogenous. Add ¼ teaspoon of salt, pulse to mix. Verify the seasoning is where you like it. Divide the mixture among the ramekins. Bake at 325oF until set, about 30 minutes.
Remove from the oven and lot the ramekins stand in the water bath until ready to serve. Run a knife around the edge, invert onto a plate. Garnish with salad or sautéed, wilted greens.
NOTE: Where flavor lies: Somewhere between a fear of salt and over salting is where flavor is often found. My recommendation is to add salt and taste while you’re liquefying the mushrooms in half and half, and before you add the eggs. Add salt, liquefy, taste. Repeat until you see how salt brings out flavor, knowing that flavor is round, and fills the mouth. Absent flavor, the taste experience is flat. Seasoning at this point also removes the possibility of over salting, because the eggs have yet to be added. They will dilute over salting if it occurs.
Another flavor element I use is to employ only one complimentary thing. In this case, if I were to add an herb, given that we have mushrooms, I’d choose marjoram or oregano. When you add a complimentary flavoring you understand that it’s role is to flatter, and not dominate. When you discover the right ration of mushroom to herb, you see clearly the role of the complimentary element.
