ForageCast

ForageCast: Spring Abundance

Fiddleheads

A perfect storm is brewing, foragers. Rain has fallen down upon our parched soils, and a slow moving cold front will push into the region Friday night. This means additional showers, just as daytime highs drop from the 80’s to the lower 60’s.  This means morels.

Just as our last hopes of 2013 morels were shriveling in the blazing and relentless sun, we have found redemption in a cold front. As I hiked in the rain this afternoon, the forest felt fresh and alive. The deciduous canopy is rapidly filling in, but the upland Vermont ramps are thriving as they feast on the last sunlight of the season. As the canopy closes, the ramps send energy down from the leaves into the swollen bulbs.

Meanwhile, the fiddleheads are unfurling and nettles are shooting up in sunny patches of woodlands and edges of fields. First reports of local king stropharias are in. To top it off, today I stumbled upon a spectacular collection of mature elderberry bushes lining the sunny margins of a snowmobile trail. To my delight, several of the bushes were already in full bloom, their subtle but intoxicating fragrance wafting into the moist air.

My basket is brimming, but something is missing. Tomorrow, the true hunt begins.

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!

ForageCast: Let it Rain Morels

Yellow morels

Giant yellow morels from 2012

Morels are deliciously close, and the first ForageCast of 2013 is here. Despite the dry ground, blacks are beginning to push their way out of the forest floor throughout New York, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. Even up north we are nearing prime time.

Last year I was fooled by mild March days and started looking for morels weeks early, only to over-use my forager’s eyes and wear myself out prematurely. This spring I have been trying to remain patient, but today I couldn’t resist scouting a couple of my spots after a blog reader posted a black morel find in southern Vermont. I am up in northern Vermont, but the reader’s find was at 1300 feet elevation so I figured I had a shot in a low elevation aspen grove where I found early blacks last spring. The patch was barren – just crisp, sun-baked ground.

At this point, all the region needs is a good soaking rain or two and I will be having morels in my ramp and fiddlehead omelets. The forecast in Burlington is for highs near 70 and lows in the upper 40s for the rest of the week. That is more than warm enough for blacks, even yellows. However, fruitings will remain scattered and limited until the rain returns. When it does, it will be open season throughout the Northeast!

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!

ForageCast: Waking Up to Winter

Shaggy remains!

As I awoke this morning to snowflakes landing on my frostbitten windows, mushroom season felt far away. Autumn in Vermont is phenomenal yet fleeting, and it is hard to watch the long awaited fall flush shrivel up with the snow.

Still, I am a satisfied forager – after a parched summer, we were lucky to receive as much rain as we did before the cold front moved in. The fall rains brought lion’s mane, winter chanterelles, hedgehogs, maitake, aborted entolomas, oysters, porcini, blewits, honeys, and more. I will never forget my first encounter with the mighty matsutake this fall – now I understand why the Japanese are so crazy about this mushroom that they will pay upwards of $100 for a single prime specimen. How can you even put a price on such an exquisite and elusive woodland delicacy?

It may be snowing in Vermont, but foragers in the southern parts of the region are still enjoying formidable flushes of fall fungi. The brownish fall-fruiting oyster (Pleurotus ostreatus) is particularly abundant this year, and it happens to be the tastiest oyster of the season – more savory and tender than the white summer species Pleurotus populinus.

Don’t wait until the frost arrives at your door – now is the time to throw on a sweater and head into the woods.  If you put your forager’s eyes to work, you’ll be surprised at how many treasures still await you! 

Northeastern ForageCast for the week of November 5, 2012!

ForageCast: Maitake on Main St.

Jenna holds a freshly plucked bouquet of maitake in downtown Northampton.

Were it not for the neon pink, grotesquely phallic elegant stinkhorns, I never would have noticed the hen hiding in plain sight in downtown Northampton, MA.  Just when I thought the 2012 season had come to a close, the foraging gods have rewarded me with a final, long awaited treat. 

Over the last six weeks I have fastidiously checked the base of every oak tree I could find, only to finally stumble upon a hen of the woods when I wasn’t even looking. Oddly enough, it was nestled at the base of an old silver maple. It is rare, but not unheard of, for hens to pop up on hardwoods other than oak, including locust and maple. However, though I have found many-a-hen in past seasons, I have never seen one growing on any host other than oak. 

The pedestrians stared at me oddly, but that wasn’t going to stop me as I bent down to harvest the hen on Main Street. Usually I am very cautious about harvesting mushrooms in an urban setting, both because I don’t want to draw attention and because of the risk of soil contamination. However, this hen was set back from the road, and after six weeks of tireless hunting I wasn’t going to pass up this tender young specimen.  

We have already seen snow in the Green Mountains, but here in Western Massachusetts it is a balmy day and Old Man Winter seems to be far from the mushrooms’ minds. I guess I can’t turn off my forager’s eyes yet!

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!

ForageCast: Fall Flush

The painted bolete’s cobweb-like veil protects its yellow pores in young specimens.

Yesterday was the first day of fall, and it seems we have hit a turning point in the foraging season. After a mediocre summer harvest, fall has announced its arrival with a formidable flush.

Today we went on a hike to check on a massive oak we knew hosted hen-of-the-woods (maitake) last fall. The tree was barren, but we took a detour on the hike that brought us to a beech-dominated forest devastated by beech bark disease. A fungus of the genus Nectria causes this ubiquitous disease, which plagues beech bark with scaly craters. The battered bark is in turn infested with insects, leading to a beech population’s premature demise.

A lovely lion’s mane specimen found on today’s foray.

According to the U.S. Forest Service, beech forests infected with the fungus go through three stages: the advancing front, the killing front, and the aftermath. This forest was firmly in the aftermath zone. The downed, scarred silver trunks, punctuated by the occasional standing oak or maple, made the glade feel like an elephant graveyard.

Right in the middle of such widespread carnage lay new life. Lion’s mane mycelium was feasting on the downed beech, yielding succulent, toothy growths that taste not unlike crab. As I write, brisket is braising in the oven, and the lion’s mane is soon to be sautéed until the tips become crispy.

As the meandering trail took us out of the beech cemetery, we found ourselves in a healthy white and red pine grove. Lion’s mane disappeared, and in its place a colorful assortment of edible Suillus boletes and hallucinogenic yellow fly agarics (Amanita muscara var guessowii) dotted the forest floor.

The painted bolete’s speckled cap stands out with its autumnal hues.

The Suillus boletes, from the slippery jacks to the slippery Jill, have a well-deserved reputation for mediocrity. I typically rate them in the “survival food” category, but today we were lucky enough to find my favorite denizen of the genus – Suillus pictus, commonly known as the painted bolete. With its brick-red cap mottled with yellow specks and bright yellow pore surface protected by a cob-webby partial veil, Suilllus pictus is a striking bolete. Its flavor is neither nasty nor notable, but thankfully it is much less slimy than most Suillus species and its looks alone make it a joy to find.

I have not been lucky enough to discover any maitake this September, so I’m not doing my victory dance yet. Regardless, I am feeling like a satisfied forager. The mycelium is hard at work, and mushrooms are popping up throughout the land. The wait was worth it. 

Northeastern ForageCast for the next two weeks!

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