The first time I ever had porcini was in Rome, at a restaurant to which my Roman friend and fellow food lover, Sandra, dragged me, swearing a fresh Roman porcino was a gastronomic experience not to be missed. The porcini were grilled like steaks and presented whole, stems removed, seasoned with garlic, olive oil and a squirt of lemon juice. I was a bit apprehensive of the large, dark flank on my plate–the idea of eating a hunk of mushroom did not appeal–but the porcino was unlike any mushroom I’d ever tasted. With a fragrance vaguely like warm sourdough bread, a firm texture and rich, buttery-nutty flavor, the porcino was closer to meat than starch. I have since come to love them in risotto, ravioli, and as a deep underlying flavor to soups and sauces.
So, when I heard of people picking porcini in the mountains near Santa Fe, I was thrilled, though skeptical. I assumed I wouldn’t find any, or I’d pick a poisonous impostor and end up in an agonized ball in the backseat of someone’s car, being driven frantically to the ER.
Fortunately, Boletus edulis bears little resemblance to any locally occurring deadly mushroom, such as the beautiful but misery-inducing Amantis muscaria. Still, I recommend having an experienced guide for your first excursion, along with layered clothing, sturdy shoes and plenty of water. Our mushroom expert was the amiable and talented Peter Ellzey: photographer, MacMan, and fellow Johnnie. Peter learned ‘shrum hunting from the late, great Bill Isaacs, a sometime colleague of mine on the board of the Santa Fe Botanical Garden and a Santa Fe Living Treasure. Peter’s counsel enabled us to distinguish between the tasty B. edulis (smooth and firm beneath the cap) and another, rather similar but less savory Boletus, with gills. He also pointed out how to detect worms and excess age among other general tips and tidbits.
Porcini are a mid-to-late summer treat that require recent rain and relatively warm temps. Moisture, such as you would find near a running spring, is not enough. Our second search, after two weeks of dry weather, yielded a small harvest with plenty of dessicated, wormy duds.
There are numerous, promising ‘shruming spots in the vicinity of downtown Santa Fe, including around the ski basin, where we searched. But unacclimated newcomers and those who are out-of-shape might want to look at lower elevations, as the excursion had us–regular gym goers–huffing.
Porcini dry well in this low-humidity clime, but the reduction in mass is a little sobering. After two outings, we are left with just over a cup of dried. So we’re watching the weather, hoping for one more shot. We hear there’s rain in the forecast.
In your pic. called “porcini harvest”, several of the ‘shrooms are leccinum, not porcini. The telltale clues:
1. color
2. the top flap folds under the rim (in a porcino it is razor-sharp at the edge)
3. staining on the stem
Leccinum are not poisonous, and are eaten by many…. though I stick to porcini.
Genuine thanks for this correction. While I put full faith in my guide to prevent me from poisoning myself, apparently I need to refine my own knowledge to ensure the tastiest harvest. We did notice a variation in smell and taste between the various specimens we picked, all of which we consumed in dried form. None approached the meaty, deep-flavored appeal of the porcini I had eaten overseas.
Peter Ellzey- we have a home in Santa Fe and are avid hikers. I have always wanted to go out with someone who knows what he is looking at. Is there a chance we could put together a few souls and have you take us up to the ski basin for a hunt? Happy to cover all expenses.