By Aaron McClain
“I don’t like mushrooms, and why on earth would I trade you beer for them?!”
That was the first thought that ran through my mind when Dan DeRidder walked into Crafty in the summer of 2016. I do tend to keep an open mind, though, so I said to this friendly gentleman, “Let me see ‘em.” He placed a Miller High Life box on the bar that was filled with vibrantly orange, trumpet-shaped mushrooms that didn’t resemble anything I had ever seen on a pizza. I took a whiff of the contents of the box, still expecting the typical mushroom smell that I detested.
What mushroom devotees had called earthy, I had deemed dirty. And what they denominated funky, I had declared fecal. This time, however, I was stunned. Not a hint of the foulness that I had associated with mushrooms existed. The scent was an ethereal blend of apricot and *enchantment. I knew we were onto something, so I pressed this gentleman for more information.
I would come to find out that Danger Dan, as he is affectionately known around town, is a river-rafting guide (from whence his nickname originates), an entertaining piano player, a painter whose artwork has graced the walls of dozens of Knoxville establishments, a competent handyman and – most interestingly to me – an avid and vastly knowledgeable mushroom hunter.
He explained that the mushrooms that I didn’t like – the ones that had defiled so many a slice of otherwise delicious pizza – usually were the button variety, which didn’t even begin to cover the depth or breadth of flavors provided by the mycelial majesty.
Had I really been so dense? Had I perpetrated the same travesty as someone who has only ever had Bud Light and says they don’t like beer? The answer, as has been proven time and time again by the delicious fungal feasts for which Dan and I have bartered over the years, was (and continues to be) a resounding yes!
“Are you really gonna use mushrooms in a beer? I mean, come on, man! You’ve done some weird stuff, but even if you find a way to make it taste good, nobody’s gonna buy that!”
That was the admonition I had heard from nearly everyone whom I told about my project. I had done some small tests with several varieties that Dan had brought me, but time and time again, the clear winner was undeniably the preeminent chanterelle. Our first commercially released mushroom beer hit the taps in November 2016 to disparate reviews. To this day, more than five years later, I still have a significant number of people imploring me to make the Smoky Mountain Shroom Ale again and a roughly equal number who continually recall that it was the only beer we ever made of which they couldn’t finish a glass.
The problem was that I had tried to use these delicious delicacies in a typically mushroom-y way. The beer had been inspired by an impressive meal that a really good cook had made with Dan’s harvest: a white wine-braised pork tenderloin garnished with chanterelle mushrooms. To emulate this dish in beer form, I used smoked malt to simulate the savory pork and Nelson Sauvin hops, which are known for their white wine characteristics. And to mimic the chanterelle mushrooms, I used … chanterelle mushrooms.
Again, there is just no other flavor that is comparable. So while this beer was undeniably complex and, arguably, delicious, I felt that it missed the mark in displaying the true magical character of these mushrooms. Rather than flinging their amazing essence into a bevy of contrasting flavors, I should instead find a choir of friendly flavors where the delicate chanterelles can harmonize rather than offer a feeble shout amongst a cacophony of brutes. After much experimentation, the perfect vehicle was found: a New England IPA.
Some may scoff at the haze craze, but the best examples of this style provide a plethora of soft fruit flavors ranging from passionfruit to peach and possessing a low bitterness. The flavor of the chanterelles enhances these styles by providing intricate yet dense apricot notes not typically found in these beers while not being so strong as to mask any of the fruity flavors and aromas the hops provide. In addition, the low bitterness also ensures that the delicate nature of the chanterelle flavor can still be detected and appreciated to the end of every sip.
I have let numerous people try our Main Squeeze side by side with our Chanterelle Mushroom NEIPA. (The Main Squeeze is the base into which we infuse the chanterelles for the NEIPA; ingredient-wise, the beers are exactly the same otherwise.) Invariably, people are amazed by the complementary complexity and depth the chanterelles offer without overpowering the IPA. And nearly always, a taste is followed by the phrase, “I can’t believe there are mushrooms in this beer!”
If you’d like to utter the same statement, we will have both Main Squeeze and Chanterelle Mushroom NEIPA available at both taprooms (9937 Kingston Pike and 6 Emory Place) starting Jan. 25.
*I have been trying to describe exactly what chanterelles taste and smell like for years, and that’s honestly the best I’ve been able to come up with. They are hard to describe because they have perhaps the most unique flavor profile of anything I have ever used in a beer – or tasted, for that matter, which is actually kinda redundant.
