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INTRODUCTION
Most of our lives are spent wrapped in civilization. We are nestled in our cars, houses, offices, and landscapes. Stepping outside of this comfortable zone, we find the wildness lurking at the edges of our world. It is here that the mushrooms live, waiting to feed us, kill us, heal us, or alter our perception of reality. But which ones do what? That is a really good question. Such a question started me on my journey into the world of fungi. Little did I know it would be a path of fascination, delight, and wonder that has kept me learning for more than twenty years. Mushrooms, or more correctly mycelia, wrap the planet like an intricate web. They are critical to plant life and important to the rest of us passengers on this planet. Mushrooms are harvested by ants, nibbled by deer and rabbits, and hunted for the table. Scientists study them to find new drugs, feed livestock, and heal damaged environments. Mushrooms may one day be eating our plastics, curing our cancers, and helping to reduce the damage we have rained on Mother Nature.
Mushrooms have also fuelled my dreams. Walking through a quiet forest, I’ve smelled the aroma of pine mushrooms and uncovered their secrets from underneath a mossy blanket. It’s a happy dream, one that triggers fond memories each time it occurs in real life. Foraging in the wild reaches back to some primordial part of me that would have been happy roasting chunks of meat over an open campfire. It is hard to describe the pure pleasure you get from finding a prime mushroom like the porcini, pine mushroom, or morel. The porcini is a plump, golden object of beauty. Like a painting by Raphael, it celebrates the curves and sensuality of nature. But the porcini can also be a source of vast disappointment. Finding a large, mature specimen often means finding a mushroom chock full of fungus gnat maggots, tiny worms spoiling the sweet flesh. Yes, the porcini is the heartbreak mushroom—but then again so are the pine, the lobster mushroom, and many others.
My first mushroom awakening occurred through my culinary pursuits. In France, I was introduced to the cèpe (as the French call the porcini). At first glance, the appearance is alluring: a velvety, brown cap resting on a swollen base. At first bite, it’s a revelation of flavour: meaty and earthy, with notes of caramel and spice. I imagine my eyebrows arched in surprise as I chewed that first mouthful. My perception of mushrooms as white buttons in the grocery store changed forever on that day. It was love at first bite.
As I began to research and uncover the mystery of mushrooms, it became apparent this was a big topic, a really big topic. Now, some twenty years later, I have explored many trails and paths, read books, talked to experts, and still have mountains more to uncover. There have been many revelatory moments: Learning to read the trees and plant life for clues to the presence of mushrooms. Learning which mushrooms to avoid and which will boost my health. I have also discovered that one of my favourite varieties is still the humble button mushroom.
Foraging for mushrooms is a seasonal pursuit. Spring brings us out of our winter slumbers with sweet blossoms and the promise of morels. Late summer gifts us with field mushrooms and the first chanterelles. But fall is by far my favourite time of the year. Crisp clear nights, autumn rains rinsing the landscape, and the welcome explosion of mushrooms. When September hits, we head off into the forest to track the progress of our best mushroom patches. Along the way, we sample the last of the summer blackberries and the newly ripening salal berries. Often the bears have the same idea and we see traces of their presence around the berry patches (scat) and in holes dug in stumps and logs (where they have been looking for grubs and ants). Fortunately they don’t seem too fussed about mushrooms. And finally in winter, while we rest up before beginning the cycle anew, nature gives us truffles to console us and stockpiles of dried and preserved mushrooms to keep us amused.
I am fortunate to live in the Cowichan Valley on Vancouver Island, one of the most wondrous areas on earth for mushrooms. Giant chanterelles, plump boletes, majestic cauliflower mushrooms, and firm, dense pine mushrooms are hidden in the landscape. I forage in the mature forests of the region and look for patches of healthy moss, often on the slopes and plateaus of the valley. The mushrooms I have described in this book occur in some form all over the planet, but the temperate bands between the equator and both poles yield the conditions for producing the best edible mushrooms.
Cultivated mushrooms have copied the work of nature and free us from a dependence on seasonality and location. This is why the shiitake mushrooms of Asia are now a locally grown product found in our markets. Mushroom growers have made the culinary and health-promoting properties of fungi available year-round.
In my classes, food demos, and cooking, I always try to use a variety of wild and cultivated mushrooms. They are tasty and good for you in many ways. The recipes in this book use global cooking techniques found in many cultures, inspired by Italian risotto, Chinese dim sum, Spanish tapas, and backyard grilling over a fire. Using your own creativity to alter the dishes is encouraged. These recipes work with many types of mushrooms. There is a great saying in stone masonry: “the best stones to build with are the ones you have to carry the shortest distance.” It is much the same with mushrooms: the best mushrooms to cook with are the ones you have available. The results will be different, but all are interesting and enjoyable on some level. Some mushrooms just taste better than others. That’s why the porcini, morels, and truffles are the rock stars of the fungi world.
What is important is to focus on fresh, locally grown products. Here on Vancouver Island, we are blessed with the ingredient bounty of the Pacific Northwest. This book is a celebration of seasonal and local foods. In that spirit, seek out the best local food products you can find, support small farmers, or grow your own produce when possible. The planet and your immune system will thank you.
But what’s the catch? Foraging for mushrooms requires education, experience, and, above all, respect. It may not be for the faint of heart, but it may be the key to strengthening your heart. In life, there are always choices. This book tries to impart a little of the knowledge needed to make these choices. I have discovered these secrets reading books, hanging out with mycologists, and attending workshops. However, mainly I have learned by walking along forest trails, and through observing and asking the right questions before I ultimately eat any new mushroom. The cooking part was arrived at through a similar process: eating in restaurants, working in professional kitchens, and sitting around the campfire roasting chunks of meat. Now I get to pass that knowledge on to you.
Never eat a mushroom when you are not 100 percent sure of its identity. Taste a little bit of any identified mushroom the first time you eat it. Many people have allergies or reactions to common fungi, including the ones found in the supermarket. In the wild, remember that mushrooms can kill you; that fact should always have your full attention.
That said, always try to have fun when foraging. Start with the low-hanging fruit, like chanterelles, and work your way up to the harder species. Join a mycological society or find a mentor to guide your education. Use this book as a launching pad to propel your journey into the world of mushrooms.
I am proud and humbled to live, work, and play on the ancestral and unceded territories of the Quw’utsun, Malahat, Halalt,Ts’uubaa-asatx, Penelakut, Stz’uminus, Lyackson, Pauquachin, Ditidaht, and Pacheedaht Peoples.
Bill Jones
Cowichan Valley
Vancouver Island, BC
