Last weekend, as we are wont to do, we spent some time wandering around the Ferry Plaza Marketplace. Yes, I’m sure you’re all aware by now how much I love that place. But as much as I love it, I tend to feel a little on guard, a little wallet protective, you might say. There are many glories there, to be sure, and they are not cheap. There are always a million things I want to try, and an equal number of reasons I deny myself, but last weekend, I was feeling in a less denying mood. I had a beautiful lentil salad at from Cowgirl Creamery AND a mushroom empanada from El Porteno. I went ahead and ordered a carafe of rose at the wine shop, instead of just a glass. And while I was off swooning over alfajores, Sean surprised me by picking up a few cartons of mushrooms from Far West Fungi.
I was practically giddy when I saw that he’d bought some chanterelles, as they’ve long been on my list of things to try. But he was much more excited about the crazy looking Nameko mushrooms he found. Nameko mushrooms were new to both of us: They are small and golden brown, and they grow together in clumps. They’re coated with a thin, sticky film that, we were told, is a good thickener for soups and sauces. (If you want to find out more about namekos and other mushrooms varieties, Chow has a good primer).
The mushrooms sat for a few days, while both of us felt too lazy to cook (I hate it when that happens!). But finally, on Monday night, we decided it was time for some mushroom pasta. I’ll be honest: Sean cooked this dinner, so my recollection of this recipe might not be 100 percent exact, measurement wise. But it’s a very simple, basic mushroom preparation and you can’t really go wrong. Just use your sense of smell and taste to know when it’s just right.
I don’t know how much the nameko mushrooms really thickened this sauce. Perhaps their thickening properties are stronger if they’re used right away. But regardless, they were delicious. If you can’t find nameko mushrooms, this will work with any kind of mushrooms you can find. But they are really the star of the show here, so if there’s ever a time to use fancy, wild mushrooms, this is it.
Chanterelle and Nameko Mushroom Pasta
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 3 to 4 tablespoon butter (give or take; use whatever seems right)
- about 2 cups loosely packed mushrooms
- salt
- 1/2 a large shallot, minced
- about 1 to 1 1/2 cups chicken broth
- 1 16-ounce carton fresh pasta
- about 10 basil leaves, slivered
- lemon (optional)
- Parmesan cheese
Trim the chanterelles by paring off the woody stems. The nameko mushrooms are clustered together around the base of the stems; cut off the base and separate each small mushroom. They don’t need to be chopped more than this. If you’re using larger mushrooms, you might want to halve them or cut them into bite-size pieces. They will shrink up a little during cooking.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Once it’s hot, add the mushrooms. Shake the pan so they spread out in a single layer. Add about a tablespoon of butter to the pan and give it a stir, then spread them out again. You want to let the mushrooms cook without stirring too often, so they brown nicely. Whenever the pan seems a bit dry, add a little more butter. Season with a pinch of salt, then toss in the shallot. Stir and cook for about a minute. Stir in the chicken broth and bring to a boil. Now you’re going to cook the chicken and mushrooms together at high heat, letting the broth boil and reduce into a silky, thick sauce.
When the sauce is still a few minutes from being done, add the pasta to the boiling water. Cook for about 3 or 4 minutes, or until al dente, then drain, but don’t let the noodles get too dry. Some of the residual pasta water clinging to the noodles will help the sauce nicely (for an explanation of this, I can’t recommend the book Heat enough). You probably won’t want to use all the pasta for this, so you can set some aside to eat later in the week.
Once the mushroom chicken sauce is thickened to your liking, stir in the basil, then stir in about 2/3 of the pasta. Taste and add salt or lemon juice if needed, then top the whole mess with some freshly grated Parmesan cheese.
This is the best kind of pasta dish: simple, fast, and reliant on one or two very good ingredients to make it shine. I have a feeling it’ll be hard to stay away from the mushroom stand the next time we go back to the Ferry Plaza Marketplace.