Primed for Chanterelles
As I walked the woods this afternoon, I could practically smell the chanterelles. The soil is wet, the air warm and sticky.
It is almost July, and the colorful cast of summer fungi is just starting to make its grand appearance. After May’s morel madness and June’s mushroom monotony, July marks the beginning of the true foraging season. In a wet July, chanterelles, cinnabar reds, black trumpets, giant puffballs, chicken of the woods, and a panoply of boletes share the sylvan stage and compete for the forager’s attention. Whereas in June even a good soaking rain may only sprout mushrooms suitable for chipmunk nibbling, in July and August the mycelium is primed for gourmet mushroom production. Just add water.
Last July that all-too-important variable was missing, and the chanterelles were late and lazy. This July, the chanterelles will be early and abundant. Or at least that’s what I told myself today as I scoured a deciduous woodland for yellow veins of chanterelles. My eyes were on, and no inch of ground could escape my golden gaze. I turned up some bycatch – a yellow Russula, a pale yellow Amanita pantherina, and an army of yellow waxy caps – but my jewel eluded me.
Yet I remain optimistic. I am still in new territory up here in Vermont, and it is still slightly early for the subtle but seductive chanterelle. All the ingredients are here – the chanterelles just need to wake from their slumber. I anticipate a Vermont arrival by Independence Day.