I had been chopping firewood (using a log splitter; I’m not too handy with the axe) and was carting them down to the shed with the wheelbarrow when something on my right caught my attention. Something orange. Cadmium yellow pale to be precise :-) Chanterelles. As I wrote earlier, I don’t do mushrooms. I’ve never learned to recognize the good ones and I don’t want to take risks. Eating other people’s mushroom dishes I, frankly speaking, don’t know what all the fuss is about. If I need mushrooms for a dish I go for the cultivated button mushrooms you get in supermarkets. Or shiitake. At least I know what I’m eating. But chanterelles are chanterelles. In my vocabulary they aren’t mushrooms. I pick the ones on our plot and take a short walk along the tiny road behind our fence and pick what I find. Not much (especially as I saw a neighbour foraging beyond that road yesterday). Just enough for one or two sandwiches. I fry them in butter and eat them with toast, with a few grinds of black pepper. Homemade bread. How’s that for lunch?
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AuthorI'm Piisa and I will be sharing with you my thoughts on this and that, maybe even on whatever. Archives
August 2023
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