Golden Chanterelles Arrive Early

Golden chanterelles, classic summer wild mushrooms, have arrived early this year in Vermont. My rational mind tells me to wait until July, but instinct carries me up a rocky streambed toward an old patch. I am greeted by a sleek red fox that makes fleeting eye contact before leaping stealthily out of sight. Soon I arrive at a pair of hemlocks that have produced in past seasons, and the hunt is on.

By mid-summer, chanterelles can be so colorful and substantial that they are visible from afar, illuminating the forest floor. Today, I have to crouch down and inspect the soil, scouring for any visual cues that might lead me to Cantharellus.

In the precise spot that fruited last year, there they are again – tiny but unmistakable. The largest fruiting bodies are still smaller than a penny, and I adjust my eyes to discover dozens of emergent flecks of gold along the mossy streambank.

By mid-July, this petite patch would be nothing to write home about, but it is only June 12th and each of these diminutive goldens holds hope for the season ahead. I leave them in the ground to ripen – it will be at least a week, maybe two, before these mushrooms are ready for harvest. Chanterelles are among the slowest growing of edible wild mushrooms, but thankfully they are also slower to amass bug and slug damage as compared to summer porcini.   

Yet one unfortunate fate that can befall baby chanterelles is lack of rainfall, which can make a flush shrivel up before reaching its potential. The forecast calls for sun, so I lean down and begin to cup water from the stream in my palms, joyfully splashing it in the direction of the chanterelle mycelium and primordia. This wild watering won’t make a difference in the scheme of things, but I savor the spontaneous ritual and the early glimpse of summer abundance. My chanterelle eyes are on, and I won’t be turning them off any time soon.