Surf 'n Turf

Re-creating the daily workday commute is generally not a preferred Sunday afternoon activity. The Tobin Bridge, followed by the strip mall that is Rt. 1, and winding Rt. 128 from the burbs to Cape Anne takes a bit of time. But Hurricane Kyle, spinning a couple hundred miles east of the Cape (Cod that is) held promise that a worthy swell would be making it’s way ashore. It was a late afternoon jaunt, and when I arrived I was greeted by throngs of cars, some filled with surfers, most with spectators, all to watch a modest 3-4’ swell with a decent period, 10 seconds or so, dump on the pathetic beach break that is Good Harbor. Another Sunday circus, this time without good waves though. After searching around a bit, Long Beach was picking up the swell and shaping it into something that could be surfed, so I paddled out.

A few fun little sets came through that at least were graceful enough to stand up and present a line. Alas, after 3 or 4 waves though, my leash broke. It may have been the spectacular power of the dangerous hurricane surf, but more likely it was due to old age and fatigue. The leash, purchased in 1999 at SF Surf Shop in Ocean Beach, had seen thumping northern California swells, freight train swells in Hawaii, and a myriad of swells back here on the East Coast. Instead of going out in a blaze of glory, its demise came on an ignominious piddle beach break. So it goes.

Time for plan B. It was about 5:30, there was an hour or so of daylight left, so I decided to take advantage of the drenching rains we’ve received over the last few days and move my play from the surf to the turf. Pulling into my workplace parking lot on a Sunday evening, I gathered up my pack and hit the Dogtown trails looking for fall fungus. Fruiting was light, and tended towards lactaria and tylopilus, groups I observe but generally don’t possess. But it was quiet in the woods, with the sodden ground and empty paths, as I trundled about looking for something for the table. I was particularly on the lookout for the prolific hen of the woods and chicken of the woods, gregarious fungus that grows at the base of host trees. Well, I found what I came for, a healthy, fresh growth of sulphur shelf (aka Chicken of the Woods), blazing bright orange in the fading light, growing on the base of a mature white oak. I harvested 5 pounds or so of the tender tips of this polypore, leaving the tougher, older growth to the beetles and slugs. I came out of the woods with little light, a heavy back, hopped in the car, and began my commute home.

Chicken from the farm with chicken from the woods quesadilla

Ingredients:
1 10” flour tortilla
¼ cup thinly Chicken of the Woods
¼ cup chopped chicken (from the farm)
¼ cup jack cheese, grated
2 tsp red onion, brunoised
2 tbs chopped cilantro
2 tsp Cholulla hot sauce
1 tbs canola oil
pinch of salt

Preparation: In stove-top pan, saute mushrooms with pinch of salt in ½ tbs of oil, remove from pan once cooked. Place tortilla in pan, spread cheese, mushroom, chicken, and 1 tsp cilantro on one half of the tortilla, fold second half to cover. Saute until golden on both sides, remove and slice into 4 wedges. Dress with onion, remaining cilantro, and Cholulla.

Result: I have to admit the chicken from the woods didn’t quite taste like the chicken from the farm. Oddly enough, it tasted like a mushroom. A deep mushroom flavor in fact, which complemented the chicken from the farm quite well.