marieqrogers

I’ve acquired some shiitake mushroom spawn and now I’m looking for the right log to inoculate so I can grow my own. On my way to the mailbox today, I spotted a pretty purple mushroom and wondered if it’s edible. That brought memories of collecting mushrooms in my grandmother’s cow pasture when I was a kid.

In late summer when the common field mushrooms (Agaricus campestris) began to pop out of the ground, my sisters and brothers and I would go out in the early morning and gather all we could find. There is no better cuisine than fresh mushrooms sautéed in Grandma’s butter and served hot for breakfast.

Common Field Mushroom

I remember the cool of the August mornings, dew on the ground, tramping through the pasture while the cows were busy being milked. The mushrooms shone white among the greens of the grass and browns of the cow patties. Often they grew right next to, or in, the cow plops. That didn’t deter us country kids. We always washed the mushrooms when we got home. Sometimes they grew in broken fairy rings, created by the mycelium, the underground part of the plant, ever reaching outward to fertile ground.

Fairy Ring – I don’t know what species

When we gathered more than we could use, we’d package the excess and Grandma would take them town and sell them to her butter customers. That earned us a little spending money. I accompanied her one time. An old lady, an immigrant from Eastern Europe, delighted to get fresh wild mushrooms, peered at them carefully and said, “I’m glad the children know what to look for.”

Today, I’m amazed at her faith in us. Yes, we did know what to look for, but I, the oldest, was not more than twelve. By then I’d been collecting mushrooms for years. I don’t remember when I was first taught or by whom. Probably Dad, but it could have been Grandma, or both. My siblings and I knew the difference between the field mushroom, which is almost identical to the mushrooms sold in grocery stores, and the similar looking but deadly destroying angel (Amanita bisporigara). To us, the two were completely distinct, but a less savvy observer might not see the difference.

Destroying Angel – Can you tell the difference?

This is why I don’t go mushrooming in Florida. The field mushroom doesn’t grow in this climate. Many other kinds do, but I’ve had no one to teach me. I collect and eat all kinds of wild foods, mostly greens, but I leave the mushrooms alone. I can identify weeds. If I’m not already familiar with a plant, there are books and the internet. I have cookbooks with recipes for wild foods and the website Eat the Weeds http://www.eattheweeds.com/  has a wealth of information. While this author, Green Deane, has information on wild mushrooms, he prefaces it with “Do not eat any mushroom without checking in person with a local, live, mushroom collector.” I take him seriously. On his mushroom page I see some that I’ve found growing in my woods, but I wouldn’t try them unless I’d been given the ok by a local, live expert.

When foraging, it’s important to identify a plant through its scientific name, because a common name can refer to several forbs of various species, some more palatable than others. I’ve never misidentified a possible edible weed, but if I did, I’d likely suffer little more than gastric upset. But when it comes to wild mushrooms you need to be 100% sure. 99% can get you killed. And I’ve heard it’s a slow, painful death.

Several years ago when my daughter Amber and her family were visiting from Virginia, we had a scare. Her family plays video games and in some the virtual player finds things like moss and mushrooms that give him/her special powers. That can be a problem if you don’t distinguish between fantasy and reality. The day after they arrived, two year old Conall wasn’t outdoors five minutes before his big bother screamed, “Conall just ate a wild mushroom!”

I crammed my finger down his throat to make him vomit while his mother called poison control, and they spent the day in the emergency room. Fortunately, the little stinker was unscathed, but I can’t say as much about the emotional health of the rest of us. We sent what was left of the offending mushroom to the hospital with him, but no one could identify it or determine what antidote, if any, might be called for. For the remainder of their visit, I scouted my yard first thing every morning and picked and disposed of every single fungus I found before letting Conall lose, just in case he hadn’t learned his lesson.

What we call a mushroom is only the fruit of the plant. The fungus itself lives in the soil (or in a piece of wood), so picking mushrooms every morning doesn’t deplete the supply. Every morning through its season, the plant sends up new fruits. These drop spores (spawn) which are seed for the next generation.

So what about my pretty purple mushroom? I regard it as I would a wild flower, something nice to look at. Different times of the year, other pretty mushrooms pop up, red ones, yellow ones, and multi-hued varieties that grow on dead or dying trees. I admire them, but I don’t desire them.

My Little Purple Mushroom

A friend of mine got some shiitake spawn last year, inoculated a log, then set it out in her back yard and forgot about it. A few months ago she called all excited—she’d found mushrooms growing on her log! Well, I can do that. I love plants that thrive on neglect. Maybe I’ll remember to water my log if we have a drought, although hers survived last summer’s drought just fine.

Cultivated Shiitake Mushrooms

If I can’t forage for wild mushrooms, I’ll settle for home grown ones. Maybe in a few months I’ll be able to chow down on the likes of these.

Related posts: https://marieqrogers.com/2012/02/06/wild-winter-eating/ and https://marieqrogers.com/2014/11/29/binghamton-butter-to-texas-kolaches/