The Fear of Death

Michael Ruhlman, in Charcuterie, describes the experience of eating raw-cured meats as an internal conflict where “your body knows it's raw and forbids it but your brain knows it's excellent and safe and wants it....” I have never experienced this. I happily munch away on jamon as I would hot-smoked bacon. Give me kingfish sashimi or pan-roast it. I prefer my quail medium-rare, and I've been served (and eaten) very rare pigeon. I'll eat steak tartare, so other raw beef isn't much of a stretch.

I'm aware, of course, that I am taking a risk. Sure, I could easily get sick, but I'm not willing to give up the flavor. Besides, I, and many other people, subject themselves to the same kind of risk eating runny egg yolks, homemade mayonnaise, or chocolate mousse. No one seems overly concerned about the possibility of contracting salmonella from raw eggs.

Do I know that prosciutto is absolutely raw, aged, salted meat? Do I know that, in the curing process, these meats often grow molds that are later scraped off? Do I know that with a bit of bad luck I might find myself particularly ill? Yes. And I never git it a passing thought. As much as I like Ruhlman, I can't say I remotely feel the way he does.

At least, not about meat. I've been giving all this a bit of thought lately because I did experience the brain-gut conflict he so eloquently wrote about. I feared for my health more than a bit recently when I ate wild mushrooms.



Pine mushrooms to be exact; ones I gathered from a small pine grove in a rather large city park. In parts of Europe these mushrooms are also called saffron milk-caps, as they “bleed” a bright orange milky substance when cut. They were accidentally imported to Australia on the roots of European pine trees and can now be found during the damp autumn months in many of the forested regions around this country.



Pine mushrooms are prized for their delicate flavor and amazing, firm texture. They are so firm, in fact, that they are the only mushroom I would rather slow cook than sauté in a smoking hot pan. Occasionally they are available at markets, as people gather and sell them, but I can't describe the joy at finding your own pushing up through the pine litter.

Which brings me back to Ruhlman's brain-gut conflict. I brought my mushrooms home, cleaned them, researched just to make sure I had the correct mushrooms, cooked them slowly in butter and a bit of stock, and began to have second thoughts. The fact is there are wild mushrooms that can kill you. Most notably is one with the attractive moniker “deathcap” which, evidently, poisons your liver so severely that transplant is offered as the only treatment.



I knew I was safe to eat the pine mushrooms, but something primitive in me wasn't quite convinced. The result was a meal seasoned with danger and fear and triumph.

They were delicious.

And for those of you who know me and asked me, for the sake of my health, not to eat mushrooms I picked in the park... sorry. I'm terrible at following instructions. Please don't be angry.

Wild Pine Mushrooms on Sourdough with a Fried Organic Egg



100g pine mushrooms, gathered, trimmed, brushed clean, and sliced
50g butter
1 eshallot, fine dice
1 clove garlic, cracked
100ml chicken stock
chopped parsley
handful of mizuna

In a small pan on medium heat, melt the butter until it begins to foam. Add the eshallot and garlic and sauté gently until the eshallot softens. Add the pine mushrooms and cook for a couple minuets more. The mushrooms will absorb most of the butter. When they just begin to color, add the stock. Bring to a simmer and cook until a thick sauce has formed and the mushrooms are soft but still firm. Remove the clove of garlic and discard. Season and stir in some chopped parsley. Top with a few leaves of mizuna.

Serve on lightly toasted sourdough. And, since we're on the subject, fry an egg sunny side up, so that the yolk stays nice and raw.

Just a note: I hate using chopped parsley as a garnish for the sake of “color on the plate” as I know many chefs do. However, I love the green, slightly metallic, bitter taste of parsley. Use the herb for flavor people. It actually tastes like something.

One more thing: I suppose I should do the responsible thing and point out that gathering mushrooms is dangerous and you probably shouldn't do so if you aren't some sort of psychic ninja robot, or at least really sure of yourself.