I had especially good luck at the farmer’s market this morning. Beside the host of gorgeous autumn fruits and vegetables I adopted—kohlrabi and daikon radishes with greens, acorn squash, Brussels sprouts, purple cauliflower, rutabaga, and Concord grapes!—I was fortunate enough to stop by the Rain Forest Mushrooms booth and discover that they had golden chanterelles in stock, the only mushroom they forage locally rather than farm.
The timing was perfect, because as it happens, today is LiveSTRONG Day. Every year, food bloggers commemorate this day of cancer awareness by cooking yellow food. This year’s event is called LiveSTRONG With A Taste Of Yellow – Heart Series, and we have been asked to post photos of yellow foods paired with hearts. I knew instantly that I wanted to use my precious find to make a creamy golden chanterelle soup in honor of this cause, but I couldn’t limit myself to a single heart photo, so prepare to be bombarded.
The soup is a classic French method adapted from Auguste Escoffier’s Guide Culinaire. I followed the version found here, which stays true to the preparation of velouté and an egg-cream liaison; my only adaptations were a slightly smaller scale and the use of white wine in place of brandy.
I garnished my soup with a light drizzle of white truffle oil and some butter-sautéed chanterelles trimmed to resemble hearts. It was fantastically velvety, aromatic, decadent and comforting—easily the best mushroom soup I have ever had. I didn’t even object to the smell of the mushrooms cooking, as I usually do!
But sublime as it was, I realized that the soup would not be enough to fill us up. Since I had just finished trimming the greens off a bunch of young daikon radishes, I wanted to find a way to use them before they had a chance to wilt. Pesto makes short work of practically any green, and I soon reduced the enormous pile of greens into about a cup and a half of pesto full of garlic, walnuts, romano cheese and flaxseeds.
I mixed up a sunny yellow dough with some whole wheat flour and a teaspoon of turmeric, and when it doubled in size, I rolled it out flat and spread it with daikon pesto and shredded Gruyere cheese to form savory rolls. Despite pinching the rolls into heart shapes for fun, I knew that they would round out as they rose, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
The rolls baked up huge, golden and fluffy, with a savory spiraling ribbon of cheese and pesto. We ate about half of them with the soup, and are looking forward to having the rest for breakfast tomorrow, accompanied with fried eggs and slathered in sausage gravy. (Update 10/3/10: I liked the rolls even better this way—the gravy fulfilled the same role that frosting does for cinnamon rolls, covering everything in yummy goo.)