New Forest Fungi Ban: Forestry Commission vs Forager’s Association

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Phone: 07964 569715

03/09/2016

With the main mushroom season just around the corner, the long-running battle between foragers and conservationists has just gone into overdrive. This time it is serious: the Forestry Commission has banned all fungi foraging in the New Forest National Park.

I can’t say I’m surprised. The New Forest has increasingly become a victim of its own reputation as something of a Mecca for fungi foragers. It has been attracting pickers, both commercial and personal, from much further afield, and in recent years it has become harder and harder to find any fungi. However, the situation is quite complicated and many of the claims currently flying around both the mainstream media and the internet need to be examined quite carefully.

What has actually happened? According to numerous reports in the mainstream media (for example: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3768111/Foraging-fungi-banned-New-Forest-commercial-pickers-broke-rule-taken.html), the Forestry Commission has now prohibited all picking of fungi on its land in the New Forest. The reasons given are that commercial pickers are flouting a 1.5kg per person per day rule, picking up to 50kg. The simplest solution to this problem, they say, is to ban all picking. The decision was taken, the FC has said, to protect both future populations of fungi and populations of insects whose grubs (“maggots”) feed on the fruit bodies.

In response to this ban, an organisation called “The Forager’s Association”, which describes itself as “An international professional foragers association, promoting sustainability and ecological stewardship through teaching and harvesting wild plants and fungi for used as food, drink and medicine” has issued a press release (see: http://www.foragers-association.org.uk/). I should disclose at this point that I am not a member of this organisation, but that I do know several of its members.

The contents of this press release are worth a close look if we want to get down to the truth underlying these issues. The press release is titled:

“New Forest Fungi Picking Ban “unscientific” say fungi experts”

It begins:

“A campaign by the Forestry Commission in England to ban the picking of all fungi in the New Forest has been heavily criticised by fungi experts and foraging educators. “

Well, the Forager’s Association really is an association of foraging educators rather than fungi experts and one wouldn’t expect turkeys to vote for Christmas. Clearly such a ban is not in the interests of foraging educators – and it also a precedent that is not welcome – so one can be forgiven for questioning their impartiality. I am also a foraging educator, and in my case somebody who comes from a conservation and scientific background and who has spent many years trying to maintain a balanced view, which has felt like being in the middle of a war zone at times.

The release then implies that foraging actually helps long term fungi populations (which is quite a claim), and that the ban has no grounding in scientific evidence:

“The Association of Foragers, which represents the collective knowledge and experience of nearly one hundred writers, teachers and researchers, say the ban has no grounding in scientific evidence, and is more likely to undermine fungi populations in the long term.

There are at least 2,700 species of fungi in the New Forest. Only a dozen are routinely collected as food – none of which are rare”, said John Wright, author of the bestselling River Cottage Mushroom Guide, and member of The Association of Foragers.”

This claim by John Wright is correct. Yes, only a small number of species are routinely collected for food, and yes none of those are rare.

“More fungi are kicked over and trampled by the uneducated than are picked for the pot. Foraging provides an important point of human connection with these otherwise mysterious organisms”, said Mr Wright. “

Unfortunately this is also true, along with the number of fruit bodies which are collected at random by people who don’t know what is edible and what isn’t. However, the fact that many fungi are trampled, either accidentally or intentionally, does not make any difference to the fact that a lot of them are also picked by foragers, especially in places like the New Forest.

“Mark Williams, a member of The Association of Foragers who has taught about fungi in Scotland for 25 years, said: “The Forestry Commission has presented no scientific evidence to show why this ban is necessary. That’s because there simply isn’t any.” A 25 year study of the effects of picking mushrooms revealed no correlation whatsoever between picking and future growth, in the same way as picking a bramble does not impact the parent plant – in the case of mushrooms an invisible underground network called mycelium.”

This leaves something important out. The 25 year study in question (“Mushroom picking does not impair future harvests – results of a long-term study in Switzerland” Biological Conservation 129(2006) 271-276) did indeed demonstrate that no amount of picking made any difference to survival of the mycelium – it did not harm the adult fungal organism. The same study also demonstrated that increased trampling of the area decreases fruit body production, but there’s something else that it is more important. The study did not even attempt to assess the impact of picking fruit bodies on the fungi’s chances of reproducing – it did not measure whether picking fruit bodies in location X had a negative effect on the appearance of new mycelia in adjacent areas. In fact, it would have been impossible to measure this, because fungal spores travel far and wide and it would also have been impossible to know whether new colonies in adjacent areas were the progeny of fungi in the study area, or came from elsewhere. In summary, this study did not conclude that picking fungi does not have a negative impact on the future populations of fungi. So whether or not Mark Williams’ statement is true depends on the meaning of “future growth”. Future growth where? At the location of picking, or elsewhere?

Mark Williams continues:

“The picking and movement of mushrooms is actually more likely to help spread fungi spores and expand populations.”

This is a problematic claim. It could be true, but given that the Forager’s Association is complaining so bitterly about the lack of scientific support for the Forestry Commission’s ban, they do need to be careful about making counter-claims that are equally lacking in scientific support.

The truth is this: there is no scientific evidence to support the claim that picking fungi helps the growth of populations. There is some folk mythology that carrying mushrooms around in open baskets helps spread the spores about, but there is no scientific evidence to support such a claim, and since many fungal fruit bodies produce large amounts of spores long after they’ve ceased to be in edible condition, it is highly doubtful that picking fungi actually improves the prospects for future populations. At best, we simply don’t know.

The press release continues:

“The Forestry Commission also cites “fungi-dependent invertebrates” as reason for the ban. Research herbalist Monica Wilde of The AoF says: “People don’t pick the mushrooms that are appealing to maggots! The most widely eaten species – chanterelles and hedgehog mushrooms – are almost entirely resistant to insects.”

This is perhaps the most worrying statement in the press release. Ms Wilde is one of the founder members of the Forager’s Association, but not a fungi expert, and the above claim is deeply misleading. As already stated, at least ten species are widely picked, and while it is true that chanterelles and hedgehog mushrooms are not the favourite fungi for insect grubs, several of the others most certainly are. Probably the most sought-after fungus of all – the Penny Bun or Cep (Boletus edulis) is very popular indeed with insect grubs. Indeed, in many European markets these fungi are cut open before sale in order to determine how badly infested they are. The same goes for most of the other edible boletes (mushrooms with pores/tubes rather than gills or spines), many of which are popular with foragers.

The press release continues:

“The FC also cites anecdotal evidence of “teams of commercial fungi pickers”. “This is a mantra that has been so often repeated, mostly by the tabloid press, that it has entered the public consciousness”, says Mr Williams. “With collectively 1000’s of days spent teaching and recording in the New Forest, not one member of the AoF has ever seen any evidence of this – not even a photograph. 99% of mushrooms rot where they grow.”

Well, I don’t spend much time in the New Forest. I am based on the south coast in Sussex. But I do on occasion go foraging nearer London, and I have indeed seen evidence of large-scale commercial foraging. The final claim – that 99% of mushrooms rot where they grow – might just be true of all mushrooms nationally, but there’s absolutely no way it is true of edible mushrooms in the New Forest. I am not going to get into the game of pulling statistics out of nowhere, but I’m willing to bet that very few penny buns, chanterelles or hedgehog fungi end up rotting in the New Forest.

The press release concludes:

“The AoF is calling for the FC to rethink the ban. It is unscientific, unenforceable, and will serve only to further disconnect people from the world of fungi. We urge the FC to use the collective knowledge of the AoF to help formulate evidence-based policy to support future populations of fungi”.

I am all for evidence-based policy. Unfortunately, claiming that foraging actually helps future populations of fungi is not evidence-based, nor is claiming that it doesn’t impact the ability of the fungus to reproduce or that the species most highly sought by foragers are of no interest to insect grubs.

I believe that a change in legislation in the UK is now very likely, although how long that takes remains to be seen. Natural England have recently instigated a project to resolve some of these problems, and also to promote the positive aspects of foraging (and there are many – including getting people out into the countryside and reconnecting them with nature).

My own contribution to this debate, in conclusion, is to call on all sides to stick resolutely to evidence-based policy and not resort to repeating unscientific folk mythology. That includes the Forager’s Association.

Perfect roadkill venison

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29/08/2016

I went out today in search of cherry plums, and found none. But as is often the way with foraging, you go out looking for one thing and end up finding something else. This time it was an almost perfect roadkill deer.

The small ones are more juicy…

Roadkill is a bit of a lottery. A large number of deer are involved in collisions on Britain’s roads every year, and I drive past more than my fair share in the heavily wooded countryside of Kent and Sussex (I am fortunate not to have actually hit any – they can do some serious damage to your car). Many of these carcasses are not in very good condition, especially at this time of year, when the temperature means that roadkill meat does not stay in good condition for very long unless it is found and dealt with soon after death. In freezing conditions in mid-winter it keeps for much longer. In this case, it was a young fawn and the carcass still had rigor mortis when I picked it up from the side of the A21, indicating that it was a fresh kill. The fact that it was so young was also beneficial – there might be less meat on a young fawn like this, but it is obviously much easier to get it into the back of the car, and it is easier to butcher the carcass. The meat is also very tender, unlike in some older animals.

Internal organs removed.

The next thing that determines how good a carcass is for meat is where on the carcass the damage is. In this case it was not obvious from looking at it – there was no visible damage. This is a good sign, apart from the small risk that the animal did not die from a road traffic accident – you do not want to be eating animals that died from disease. However, since this was next to a road, the chance of that was very slim, and it usually becomes very clear what happened as you butcher the carcass – the butchery process is therefore partly an autopsy.

The last thing you want to find is damaged intestines or stomach, because this can taint the whole carcass. Put bluntly, it makes the meat taste of shit, as well as introducing health hazards. In this case the guts were completely intact, but there was some damage to the liver. Venison liver is very rich (so rich that it it unsafe to eat it more than three or four times a year, or you risk poisoning from excessive amounts of vitamin A). Further damage became apparent to the rib cage – this fawn had suffered a sideways impact, damaging mainly its ribs and some of its internal organs. But on the whole there wasn’t much damage and nearly all of the best cuts of meat were in a usable state.

The best bits: two fore legs, two hind legs, two sides of saddle, two tenderloins.

The bits I usually keep from a roadkill deer (in addition to the liver) are the legs, the saddle and the tenderloin. This was a rare case where all of these parts were usuable. On a larger deer, creative use of parts like the neck and flanks become more worthwhile.

The meat is now sitting in my kitchen (with the windows closed to stop the flies coming in), so the blood can drain out of the various cuts. Will be ready for freezing later this evening.

Edible Mushrooms: a look inside the new book

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23/08/2016

Well, mushroom season is nearly upon us once again, and this year there’s going to be a new book on fungi foraging to add to your collection. Here is your first chance to take a look inside and get a taste of what you can expect from Edible Mushrooms. To start with, here is the finished cover (click on the image to enlarge), with comments taken from reviews of the book by Rob Hopkins (founder of the Transition Town movement), Fergus “the forager” Drennan, Tim Maddams (of River Cottage fame) and Gary Johnston from Jack Raven Bushcraft. We decided to to buck the trend of putting a Penny Bun on the front of the book: these are Dark Honey Fungus, pictured growing in a conifer plantation in south-west Kent.

The book is divided into two sections: Part I consists of seven chapters on various aspects of fungi foraging, including an extensive chapter covering the different cultural attitudes to edible wild fungi in different parts of Europe, the historical origins of these cultural differences and the resulting differences in the legal situation. In places where fungi foraging has not, until very recently, been popular, the laws are likely to be out of date. If hardly anybody forages for fungi, then there isn’t much need for regulation, and vice versa. Part II – the bulk of the book – is the species guide.

This is a spread from the species guide, to give an idea of the sort of information provided for each of the 320 species covered in the book, and the quality and format of the photos. The Charcoal Burner is a common species, but it is not often you come across a patch like this, which shows the wide variation of cap colours that are characteristic of this species. Even less frequently do you find them in reasonable condition (wildlife finds them just as tasty as humans do) and at a time and place where the weather is good for taking photographs.

Here is the first half of the introduction, including a picture of yours truly taken by my wife, Cathy, on her phone. It was never intended to find its way into the book, but sometimes unplanned photos work out the best. The location is Eartham Woods in West Sussex on a rather foggy day in September 2013. Forestry monocultures like this are often derided by ecologists for their lack of biodiversity, but in the case of fungi they can sometimes turn out to be very rich hunting grounds indeed, especially if, as in this example, there is a lot of coarse woody debris littering the forest floor.

Edible Mushrooms: a foragers guide to the fungi of Britain, Ireland and Europe will go on general release on October 20th 2016 at an RRP of £19.99. You can already pre-order copies from the major online book retailers, you’ll be able to pre-order from the publisher Green Books very soon, and signed copies will be available directly from myself, a few days before the official release date, if you get in contact with me before the end of September (my email address is at the top of this page – please email me if you’d like to order a signed copy).

Pepper Dulse – Spice of the Sea

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11/07/2016

Laver (Porphyra sp.)

I’ve just returned from a week’s holiday in Pembrokeshire, much of which I spent wandering about near-deserted beaches at low tide in search of seaweed – specifically in search of really nice photos of edible seaweeds. Pembrokeshire is, of course, famous for one particular edible seaweed that is an essential traditional component of a Full Welsh Breakfast: Laver. When exposed on the rocks, Laver can look uncannily like the monster “Scaroth” from classic Doctor Who serial “City of Death”, but fortunately it’s rather more edible and highly nutritious. “Laver Bread” is made by simmering the seaweed (which must be repeatedly washed to get rid of the sand) for six hours, before mixing with oats and frying. Perfect for a slow cooker.

Dulse (Palmaria palmata)

But it was Pepper Dulse I was really after. This is not to be confused with Dulse, to which it is not closely related and does not even vaguely resemble. Dulse is another famous edible seaweed, generally associated with Ireland more than Wales, but common around most of the coasts of the British Isles and very abundant in Pembrokeshire. Dulse is edible raw, with a strong “umami” flavour and a gently chewy texture, but is more often dried – like crisps before crisps, but better – or fried, or used in stocks and broths… The most obvious visual difference between Dulse and Pepper Dulse is the size of the fronds. Dulse is much bigger and noticeable. It can also be found much more easily further up the beach.

Pepper Dulse (Osmundea pinnatifida)

Pepper Dulse can be a more elusive quarry. I found it on several Pembrokeshire beaches, but on each occasion it only became obvious in the half hour or so around low tide. It is also easily missed unless you know what you’re looking for – especially in terms of its size. It superficially looks a lot like any number of small, frilly, red seaweeds (although it is not always red, particularly if it is higher up the beach). You’ll know instantly that you’ve found Pepper Dulse though, the moment you smell it or taste it. “Truffle of the Sea” (as it has been described elsewhere on the internet) is a bit misleading, but it certainly qualifies as “Spice of the Sea”. It is at its strongest nibbled raw, when it has a taste and smell that is something like a mixture of garlic, pepper and some of the more aromatic fungi in the genus Lactarius (the spicy milkcaps).

Collecting it can be a bit of a bind, especially if the tide has rendered you short of time or you are knee deep in the waves. But simply ripping it off the rocks is counter-productive, because you’ll end up with loads of the wrong sorts of seaweed, as well as bits of rock and sand. Ripping the holdfast off also prevents it from regrowing, and you will need to remove it later anyway. A sturdy pair of scissors are the best option.

If you aren’t going to eat it fresh then Pepper Dulse can be dried and powdered, at which point it becomes a spice to rival anything you’ll find in a traditional curry recipe. The only problem is that it tends to lose some of its potency and you’ll need to collect quite a lot of it in order to end up with a decent amount of dried seaweed spice. As things stand this seaweed is still relatively unknown as an edible species. I suspect as the foraging revolution continues to gain pace, it won’t remain overlooked for much longer. It is unquestionable the most flavoursome edible European seaweed, and everything about it suggests it has a bright culinary future.

Nursehound

I didn’t spend the entire week on a beach. I also went sea fishing – something I have relatively little experience of. Most of the fish weren’t biting, but I did get lucky with quite a few members of the shark family, most notably the Nursehound. This species is one of several sold in fish and chip shops under the name “huss” (it is also called “Bull Huss”). Traditionally it was not just eaten, but its skin used as a high quality and extremely expensive alternative to sand paper. I learned about this the hard way, the skin on my hands being ripped to shreds as I skinned the biggest of the day’s catch. Most of the others were returned to the reef.

I have to say that my first visit to Pembrokeshire is unlikely to be my last. There’s a reason why it is the only coastal national park in Britain – the geology is spectacular. It is also the perfect playground for a forager. Cornwall without the crowds.

Oregon Grape Jelly

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19/05/2016

Oregon Grapes (Mahonia aquifolium) aren’t grapes. They aren’t native to Europe either, coming, as their name implies, from North America, where they are the state plant of Oregon. In the UK they are more often simply referred to by the Latin name “Mahonia”, and they are a very popular ornamental garden plant. Their closest native European relative is Barberry (Berberis vulgaris) – a species that was once common in Britain but was systematically exterminated in many areas because it is a host plant for a fungus that attacks cultivated cereal crops. Oregon Grape produces yellow flowers in spring, but by early summer (i.e. now) these have been replaced by masses of beautiful purple-blue berries. These berries are edible raw, but not particularly impressive. They have large pips, and are rather bitter and tart. They are much better used in jams and jellies, especially to accompany game.

Oregon Grape jelly is very easy to make. First collect plenty of berries. This is quite simple, because they hang in long clusters and easily detach. Although you do need to watch out for the spiky, holly-like leaves and the juice stains everything seriously purple (so wear rubber gloves if you don’t want to stain your hands, and don’t wear your best clothes). When you get them home, rinse the berries to get rid of any debris. The only other ingredients required are sugar and water, and you need a berries/sugar/water ratio of 3/1/1 by volume. Oregon Grape has a high natural pectin content, so you don’t need to add any extra, although there are variations on this jelly that include other ingredients such as lemon juice and ginger. Bring the water to the boil in a saucepan, then add the sugar and berries and boil gently for 20 minutes covered, mashing a couple of times. Uncover, raise the heat a little and boil for a final five minutes. Then strain through a sieve, using the back of a spoon to get as much of the juice and pulp through as possible, while leaving the pips and the skin in the sieve. Or you can use a food mill.

And that’s it! As it cools it will set firmly, and it is ready to be served with venison, turkey or other strong-tasting meats. (If it doesn’t set well, you can always return it to the saucepan and boil for another few minutes to reduce the water content, then leave to set again.)

Ramsons and Nettles

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28/04/2016

“Wild Garlic” is one of those unhelpful common names that refers to more than one plant. There are at least 8 members of the genus Allium growing wild in Britain, several of which have been called “Wild Garlic” at one time or another. However, most people use the name to refer to Allium ursinum, otherwise known as “Ramsons”. It is the only wild vegetable that almost everybody has heard of, and it is very common in woodland throughout the whole of the UK. There are a few things people mix it up with, including the highly toxic Lily of the Valley. However, none of its poisonous lookalikes smell of garlic, so they are fairly easy to avoid.

What to do with it? The whole plant is edible, but it is illegal to uproot wild plants so it’s the leaves and flowers that actually get used. You can just eat them raw, as part of a salad – the unopened flower buds pack a serious garlic punch. Ramsons soup is another popular choice, and you can also use the broad blades of the leaves to make “dolmades” – the wild British equivalent of stuffed vine leaves. However, one of the tastiest ways to use them is to simply sauté them in butter. This works particularly well when combined with another wild vegetable that is abundantly available at the moment – Stinging Nettles.

Collecting nettles is a little tricky, of course. You need a sturdy pair of rubber gloves, and maybe a pair of scissors. You only want the tip of each nettle – the smallest 4, or at most 6, leaves. When you get the home, rinse them under cold water, then blanch for 30 seconds in boiling water. This will disable their stings, and allow you to roughly chop them. Then wash and chop the Ramsons, and sauté both in butter, making sure that the Nettles and Ramsons are well mixed together. They will be ready in about three minutes, or however long it takes until most of the water has been boiled out of the pan.

Wild Cabbage

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21/01/2016

Velvet Shanks. Sussex, January 2016.

Midwinter is a lean time for foraging. We’re just heading into what is statistically the coldest month of the year, and properly cold temperatures have finally arrived in the UK. The only fungi you’re likely to find are Jew’s Ears and Velvet Shanks, and you’ll need a good dose of luck to come across those. Although I was rather pleased to find this lot, which were sneakily hidden inside a dead log, making them rather hard to spot but worth finding from a photographic point of view, because the very fact that they are growing in a restricted space,

Enokitake – the cultivated version of Velvet Shanks.

with restricted light, has meant they more closely resemble their cultivated descendents Enokitake

than Velvet Shanks normally do. The Japanese force this species to grow into this strange, spaghetti-like form by growing them in the dark, in canisters, with an elevated level of carbon dioxide.

In terms of plant foraging, the most advanced Alexanders plants are just reaching their best for harvesting and using the succulent stems, although most of them are still much too small and won’t be ready for a few more weeks. Alexanders is a coastal specialist, and where it is present it is usually present in invasive quantities.

Wild Cabbage. Sussex, January 2016.

The same cannot be said for Wild Cabbage. Wild Cabbage (Brassica oleracea), is the wild ancestor not only of cultivated cabbages but also broccoli, cauliflower, kale, brussels sprouts and kohlrabi. It is native to coastal areas of western and southern Europe, but it doesn’t compete well with other plants and therefore tends to be restricted, naturally, to its most preferable habit, which is chalk sea cliffs. It is not particularly common.

However, it does also sometime thrive in disturbed ground near the coast, and not exclusively in chalk/limestone areas. Right now there’s loads of it growing in otherwise barren mud, all along the sides of the new Hastings-Bexhill link road. This is acidic, sandy soil, about a mile inland from the sea. It’s likely to be brief, localised hey-day for the Wild Cabbage. Come the spring this mud will doubtless become a sea of early-colonising “weeds”, hopefully (from a foraging point of view) including loads of juicy Fat-Hen.

Wild Cabbage leaves.

For now I will enjoy this rare glut of Wild Cabbage. It is actually much tastier than any of its cultivated forms – the same taste, just stronger. The stems can be stringy, so you need to strip the leafy parts of the leaves before steaming for a few minutes and serving with melted butter.

Oh well, there’s always next year…

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05/12/2015

There couldn’t be bumper years for fungi if there weren’t also duff ones. 2015 was a duff one. As explained in the previous post, the start of the season was promising and it was a great year for Chanterelles and Horn of Plenty, but after that it just went downhill and stayed there. Last October was also a bit dodgy, because it had been too warm, but there was a recovery in November. This November was the worst for fungi, both in terms of variety of species and number of actual mushrooms, that I can remember. It also ended early – in a normal year I’d still be out picking Winter Chanterelles now, but they stopped growing several weeks ago and now there’s none of those left either – not in good enough condition to pick, anyway.

On the bright side, it bodes well for next year. When a particular species of fungus has a bad year, it often does well the following year, and when all the fungi do badly then lots of them will do well the following year. I don’t expect to see many chanterelles, but there’s likely to be plenty of other stuff. Which would suit me just fine, given that I’m going to spend most of next autumn launching a book on fungi foraging…of which I have some news, because a decision has now been made on the title and release date.

The book is going to be called “Edible Mushrooms: a forager’s guide to the fungi of Britain and Europe” and it will hit the bookshops on Thursday September 29th. It will feature over 250 edible species and 50 poisonous ones, covering the whole of the temperate and mountainous areas of Europe (that is, everywhere apart from the Mediterranean climate zone and biome south of the Alps and Pyrenees, where the fungi are significantly different).

Some other news for next year: I will be running open-to-the-public sessions in Hemsted Forest (half way between Tunbridge Wells and Ashford). See link at the top of the page for details.

Enjoy your Christmas and see you next year.

Geoff

The Cantharellales rule supreme

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31/10/2015

Chanterelles – 31/10/2015, Sussex.

It’s been a superb October for fungi…if what you were after were members of the Cantharellales. If you were hoping for something else, it’s been somewhat less impressive. Yet again, the wild fungi have demonstrated that the only thing that isn’t surprising about their behaviour is their enduring capacity to surprise.

It was a good start to the season. From late August to mid-September there was a nice selection of brittlegills, milkcaps, agaricuses and large boletes to be found – typical fare for that time of year. It was also obvious from the get-go that it was going to be a stunning year for Cantharellus cibarius – I’d seen more Chanterelles by the middle of September than I had in the last four years put together.

Horn of Plenty – Sussex, 31/10/2015

Then we had a period of dry, warm weather and almost everything ground to a halt. I have been waiting for the recovery ever since, and there’s still no sign of it. Trekking through the woodland of Sussex and Kent this afternoon, you’d be forgiven for thinking it hasn’t rained in weeks, at least as far as the fungi are concerned. Nearly all the major groups of fungi are absent entirely. I was out for three hours today and I saw not a single Amanita, brittlegill, russula, Agaricus, puffball, webcap, deceiver, honey fungus or oyster mushroom. And the only bolete I found was a solitary Peppery Bolete.

Wrinkled Club – late October 2015, Kent.

There are some good edible things still to be found in numbers, and they all belong to the same taxonomic Order (an order is two levels above genus – humans belong to the order “primates”). That Order is called Cantherellales, and in addition to the Chanterelles (family Cantherellaceae) it includes a variety of other fungi including the Hedgehogs (Hydnaceae) and a family of club fungi called Clavulinaceae that look entirely unrelated to the well-known Cantherellales but have recently been moved there as the result of DNA testing. One unexpected advantage to situations like this is that I go to the bother of experimenting with what is available, and it turns out that Wrinkled Club – widely dismissed as not worth collecting – is rather good to eat! Perhaps not so surprising given that so many other things in its order are considered to be delicacies.

Late October collection (31/10/2015). Horn of Plenty, Hedgehog Fungus, Winter Chanterelle, Wavy-capped Chanterelle, Chanterelle, Wood Blewit, Clouded Funnel, Scarlet Waxcap, Snowy Waxcap, Peppery Bolete.

My afternoon was rescued slightly right at the end by a trip to a local churchyard. Even here, things were not quite as you might expect for the end of October, but there were at least a few other things – a patch of Wood Blewits, another of Clouded Funnel, and few scattered waxcaps where last year there was a carpet.

So what on earth is going on? I have no idea why it is such a special year for the Chanterelles and their allies, but one thing this group tend to have in common is that they are slow growing and long lasting. That this was going to be a classic year for them was already decided long before the weather turned unseasonally warm and dry in mid-September. They also last for a long time once fruited, so the large numbers of Chanterelles, Horn of Plenty, Hedgehogs and Wrinkled Clubs were already growing before the weather changed. The other autumn fungi fall into two categories from where we currently are – the late summer and early autumn species, which had already fruited their hearts out by mid-September, and the later autumn species which hadn’t even got going. And even though November starts tomorrow, the average temperature hasn’t got low enough to trigger their fruiting. At least, that’s the best theory I can come up with, and if I am right then as soon as the temperature drops significantly there should be decent recovery, and maybe fungi all over the place.

So we must wait for the temperatures to drop, and see what happens. Unfortunately, the current long-range forecast is showing temperatures staying unseasonally high, well into November. Here’s a prediction: this mushroom season will see a second peak in the third week in November…

Truffles!!!

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25/09/2015

Ella the Truffle Spaniel homes in on a Summer Truffle…or is it a dead mouse?

Yesterday I found my first ever truffle! Well…strictly speaking, it wasn’t me who found it but a small black spaniel called “Ella”, but I was at least there when it was found.

I’d like to thank Sussex-based professional truffle hunter Melissa Waddingham, who kindly agreed to take me truffling in order to get some pictures for my forthcoming book, and so I could learn a bit about this highly specialised type of fungi foraging. The location must, of course, remain a top secret…although it was a patch of woodland I have visited regularly over the last twenty years, aware that there might be some truffles hidden away but with no means of finding them. You do need a dog, after all!

Professional Truffle-hunter Melissa Waddingham uses her own nose to confirm the presence of a Summer Truffle

The first myth to be busted was that using a dog instead of a pig to find truffles means you don’t run the risk of the animal eating the fungus before you can grab it. Pigs famously love eating truffles, and aren’t exactly the easiest creatures to train, and one might assume that dogs are less likely to eat a fungus, especially one that smells of male pig pheromones. One would assume wrongly. Melissa has two truffle hounds, the elder of which (a labrador called Zebedee) is more than a little partial to truffles, to the extent that Melissa has to watch him like a hawk to make sure he doesn’t scoff the bounty within seconds of finding it. In the end Zeb found only a false alarm, at which point a second myth got busted. I had assumed that it would take the sensitive nose of our canine friends to smell a truffle, but no – Melissa hauled Zeb away from the

Tuber aestivum – the Black or Summer Truffle, in-situ beneath a beech tree

target spot and put her own nose to the hole, which must have once contained a truffle, because she could smell it. Even I could smell it – and my sense of smell isn’t great and the truffle itself wasn’t even still there!

A few minutes later it was Ella who actually managed to find what we were looking for. Just a centimetre or two below the surface, and looking superficially very similar to the blackened beech nut husks that littered the forest floor, was a Summer (or Black) Truffle – Tuber aestivum. It is a long way from being the most prized of European truffles, but the most important of the British species. The smell was very powerful indeed. Hard to describe the quality, but the strength was such that even zipped up the pocket of a

Black or Summer Truffle – Tuber aestivum, showing the veined, nutty interior

hoodie, with the hoodie zipped up in a bag, the smell was still strong enough to be detectable in the car on the way home.

So what to do with them? I followed Melissa’s recommendations and tried two dishes. The first involved mixing grated truffle with butter, and leaving it overnight before using the truffle-butter in a baked potato. The second was to grate it onto boiled egg. The flavour was delicate – nothing like as strong as I was expecting given the overwhelming smell from yesterday, but still

Summer Truffles on boiled egg, with Serrano ham and home-grown Latvian tomatoes

worth the bother and I’m very happy to have finally lost my truffle virginity!

If you are interested in experiencing a truffle hunt yourself, or would like to learn about training your own truffle hound, see Melissa’s website.