Foraged

Autumn can be one of the most enjoyable seasons -- not too hot, not too cold, and sometimes not even too wet (an important consideration in this part of the world). 

We spent a day wandering through forests, mainly on the lookout for edible mushrooms. As always, most of the ones we spotted were either not safe to eat, 'pre-chewed' by slugs or other forest residents, or sometimes just gone at the stem to some other mushroom-seeker who beat us to a particular patch. 

Because luck was with us, we found enough for a big panful fried up (with butter, olive oil, garlic and chives) that made their way to the top of a pile of fresh linguini. 

Yum!

The rest have been drying and are almost ready to go into jars where
they'll wait for special occasions when I'll cook with them (and put them into our Christmas stuffing for sure). 

Yet, it isn't just mushrooms that get found in the forest. Walking almost silently (except of course for the intermittent tinkle of the bear bell I wear) over the deep carpet of moss makes me think I'm in the land of The Lord of the Rings or maybe on another planet, like in Avatar. 

One of the most important 'foraged' items I bring home with me is an awareness of that quiet place within, maybe the spirit, that takes such comfort and solace there. 

A forager's delight

This month has been a great one for foraging. And yes, those giant puffballs we found when we were visiting in Ontario were mighty tasty. Sliced into strips and pan fried, they were actually meaty -- like I might imagine the vegetarian version of a steak.

Today was another perfect day for tromping around in the bush, poking about for edible treats here in BC. The recent rains had encouraged all sorts of mycelia to sprout their fruiting bodies (what we think of as mushrooms). Even though most of them aren't safe to eat, that doesn't mean they aren't pretty enough to want to take photos of them -- like these, some kind of variation related to a chanterelle, but not one that I would want to sample.

Besides finding some lovely, fresh parasol mushrooms which will definitely feature in tonight's supper, there were also some chestnuts which might have been fun as a woodland appetizer if it weren't for the fact that they're horse chestnuts -- not fit for human consumption. Still, the patterns on their shells are as beautiful as any finely burnished wood.

But the best find of all was a pocketful of windfall apples. With some careful paring (sure, there were little bruises and flaws), they're now in the oven, baking their way into a pie for dessert.

PS Please be sure, if you're picking in the wild, to follow the rules. Use a guidebook -- or better yet, go with someone who knows what's edible and what's not. As the adage goes: There are some things you only eat once (because once you eat them, you're dead).

Gratitude...

...rhymes with attitude.

I'm not sure why I never noticed that before.

In fact, maybe the word 'gratitude' is a condensed form of 'great attitude'. And if that leaves a 't' missing in the word gratitude, I'm just going to think that it must have gone away to be part of the word 'turkey', an important part in this weekend's celebration of gratitude, Thanksgiving.

We had our big meal on Saturday night, and those wild mushrooms we picked the other day played an important role. The stuffing contained bits of chanterelles, while the angel's wings mushrooms (pictured above) joined some baby bok choy and peas in a soft-spoken stir-fry.

For family and friends -- and, of course, wild mushrooms -- I am grateful today.

Golden

Wednesday was the golden day, and I'm just glad we were smart enough to get out into it while it was there, as Thursday turned rainy and blustery, with over 30,000 customers losing power last night.

We headed out into the valley and tromped around some of our favourite hiking spots, all the while keeping our eyes open for the ever-elusive wild mushrooms, and of course, paying attention for wildlife that might be around. Our whistles were put to good use, as I'd left the bell I usually wear at home. Although I've been teased and told that bears think a bell means 'dinner', I'll admit I feel more secure if I jingle when I'm hiking in the bush.

Plenty of fungi were apparent, so conditions were good, though there weren't a lot of the edible varieties. And yes, there was some evidence that others had had the same idea before we did, as we spotted the occasional stems where specimens had been cut. Unfortunately, there were also (too many) places where mushrooms appeared to have been uprooted. Sadly, they probably won't come up in those spots again.

Oddly, whenever we came across streams, the water looked vibrant and fresh, but there was no evidence of fish -- a concern to me, as this is the season when the salmon are generally spawning. They're usually in obvious abundance when we do our foraging hikes, clambering their way upstream to where they were born.

Still, the fresh air was nurturing enough to make the day feel like a success. And really, I'm sure we got enough mushrooms (three varieties) to play a role in our upcoming Thanksgiving feast.

When the days are as perfect as our 'golden' Wednesday was, it's important -- especially this time of year -- to grab it and do something outside.

Gathering wild mushrooms

It's something that goes with autumn. Harvesting an assortment of wild mushrooms. Over the years, we've refined our skills -- learned about mushrooms we didn't know about before, explored new places, tried new recipes.

We've also learned a few things about the right and the wrong ways of harvesting.

The photo above shows how NOT to gather them. Those aren't some fat cigarette butts resting around the leaf. The black 'fuzzy' stuff on the cut-off mushroom stems is soil.

The harvester who left these behind has jeopardized the odds of mushrooms growing there again next year. They've pulled them up by what you might want to call their 'roots' -- that critical connection which links them to the mycelium, hidden beneath the earth.

The parts we 'pick' are the bits that poke their heads up through the soil.

It's important to slice the base of the mushroom in such a way that the link to the fruiting body isn't disturbed.

It's also a good idea to not try to clean out the forest, but to leave some for other harvesters who may be coming along in a day or two. A good way to ensure you're doing this is to avoid taking small mushrooms, and only harvesting those that have had a chance to grow into mature specimens.

Of course, it's important to know what you're harvesting. Our friend the Internet can provide many answers, but even Google's images of chanterelles contain at least one look-alike, one you won't want to ingest.

A book with clear photographs can be a useful companion in the forest, and will be easier to use if its focus is specific to your geographic region. An even better way is to tag along with a knowledgeable harvester.

But even if you don't feel like learning which kinds of mushrooms are edible, the experience of walking in the forest this time of year is one that can only inspire wonder. Get out there.

Beauty and Bounty

I had a hard time deciding what to call this post. Although it's mostly about the bounty we always seem to discover in the forest, I can't ever manage to ignore its beauty.

We lucked into a gorgeous afternoon -- the first without rain in several days and drove out to one of our favourite forest spots. I'd packed a lunch, so it felt very festive, a celebration of the beauty in this lingering autumn we've had.

September and October (at least the first half) were too dry for mushrooms. Then, the second half of the month had seemed too harshly wet to go out. So today, the 'Goldilocks' day seemed just right.

We didn't find a big batch, but succeeded in finding enough chanterelles to have a beautiful meal and still have a few for drying, so no complaints on that front.

The best treat of the day was seeing the salmon still heading upstream to spawn. The video is short, but indicates how feisty these fish are, despite all the miles they've already had to travel.

Bounty of an autumn walk

It's amazing -- all the treasures that pop out during this, the harvest season of the year.

Like one final push before the frosts get hard, these little beauties appear in multitude.

Today's walk revealed (front and centre) chanterelles, (behind those, towards the left and upward) several varieties of boletes, (far left and far right) parasols in various stages of opening. The curly black ones just behind the chanterelles are the wonderfully textured helvellas. The rusty-orange pile on the right is simply my scarf, which got pressed into service as a 'container' when I ran out of bags to fill.

Most of these mushrooms will get eaten fresh over the next few days. The rest will get dried (five racks of the dryer are already filled with parasols). They'll nourish our palates (and memories of forest walks) all winter long.

Peace in the forest

This was a weekend for a different kind of retreat – a getaway for doing nothing in particular.
Just the two of us, off and away. No alarm clock, no agenda, no computer.

Even the weather co-operated (mostly), allowing us to take lazy strolls through the bush. Aside from encountering several piles of bear scat, we appeared to be the only mammals around. We were on our own, alone in the midst of all that woodsy beauty. Even the air seemed to carry a tang of green.

The trees were filled with birdsong. The streams were full of salmon, splashing their way towards home.

And hidden under the softest green moss were the golden treasures of the season, the chanterelles. A bounty to bring home, to enjoy and to share.

Thankful...

Today, 10/10/10 was scheduled to be a day for thinking about the climate. It wasn't raining, the day wasn't hot or cold, and it seemed like the perfect day to get in the car and head for the forest.

In other words, instead of participating in a protest, I celebrated -- I honoured the changing weather by getting outside and into it. Bad of me? I don't think so.

This is Thanksgiving weekend, and as always, I have much to be thankful for, including the bounty of wild mushrooms we found today. The photo shows a few of the chanterelles we found, still holding needles and bits of debris as they lie on the bed of the forest.

A remembering

This week has been complicated. There’s been an extraordinarily beautiful wedding, the burial of a young man whose genetic inheritance caught up to him much too soon, a 40th birthday celebration, and the observance of a sad anniversary. But the cloud that’s hung over the last few days has been for a longtime friend whose cancer, despite months of treatment, got the best of him.

Mike was 15 when he came to Canada – alone – escaping the ’56 invasion of Hungary. He spent some time in Montreal at a range of menial jobs, but soon, like so many others back then, he started heading west. He learned English, got himself through a degree at UBC and forged a career as an entrepreneur, ever the independent man, both in action and in thought.

He loved nothing more than a good bout of arguing. And even though English was his second language, his vocabulary was one of the richest I’ve known. He may have pronounced words with an accent, but he knew how to pull out the most precise, the most elegant choice for the occasion. Or, as was more likely the case, the cause.

A visionary he was, but like so many visionaries, ahead of his time. It’s interesting to think about how the city of White Rock might be different if Mike had won a seat on Council when he ran for office. Marine Drive might now be a pedestrian walkway with a market-style mall; shuttle buses would run up and down State Street, providing pedestrians easy access to the beach.

Dear to my heart was his love for good food, especially if it was a bargain – or better yet, free. He loved to fish, dig for clams, set a trap for a feed of crabs.

One of my favourite companions for mushrooming in fall, he’s the only person I know who could find truffles without the help of a pig or a dog. He had a great eye for spotting a patch of helvella at the side of the road – only trouble was, when he was on the prowl, he’d drive while looking at the verge, rather than watching the road. This led to the occasional slip of wheels onto the shoulder, and more than one offer to take over the driving. Not a chance, especially with his beloved Fiero. But I suppose the occasional slip of the wheels must at least be good for the passenger's heart.

Anyway, next time I go for dim sum without him (especially if they serve chicken feet), I am going to miss him. Just as I am going to miss him when I have Greek food or crab or when I eat outdoors in the fading light of evening, especially if a boisterous discussion is on the menu. I am going to miss this man we mostly called Michael or Mike. Although in my heart I will always think of him by the name we used when we lovingly mocked his accent, and called him Der Mickey.

First day of autumn

A walk in the bush has to be one of the best ways to mark the changing of the seasons. Today it's mostly wandering, but all the while keeping an eye open in case there might be some edible mushrooms. It's always amazing to me the way that something as soft as a mushroom (I mean, really, their first name is 'mush') can be so resilient and can grow against rock or hunks of wood.

Of course, sometimes we encounter more than mushrooms. Looks as though some creature was feasting on venison here.

Thanks-shroomin'

Thanksgiving saw us heading out to gather goodlets from the forest. I'm set, complete with whistle and even a bell to keep bears away. A sign near one of our stops put it well: heck, we were recreatin' -- and looking for food at the same time.

Although this mushroom wasn't one to eat, I couldn't resist taking a picture. Fierce-looking little guy, isn't he? All those 'teeth' grinning down at the moss.

Even when we're not finding shrooms, a day in the bush provides plenty to satisfy -- especially when it's another day of perfect weather. Who could help but feel content in surroundings like these? Postcard, anyone?

From the looks of things, we'll be having a few feasts. The mushrooms in this assortment, starting at '9 o'clock' and moving clockwise are: honey, chanterelle, cauliflower, bolete -- rounded out with a mix of angel wings and oysters. Yum!