Locomotoring

A friend recently said, one should go mushroom hunting with older experts. Older the better because they are living proof of their expertise. Our guide, a friend, is not old, and I sometimes like to think of her as a benevolent sorceress running an herbal apothecary. She sees mushrooms as tasty healers of human body. And, who will deny that forest bathing heals the soul. When foraging, you rarely walk more than a mile an hour with greatest mileage covered in between your patches. Your eyes constantly scan the forest floor. You notice and you see many a banana slugs. You fill your lungs with forest aromas. And if you are lucky, you come back home with mushrooms. Or should I say, you bring the forest to your home. You have to be OK with dirt, with bugs and the aroma of forest floor filling up your kitchen. And when the mushroom is matsutake, it is like bringing pine trees to your home.

It is difficult to get the grit out completely. I found that washing them thoroughly and then cool air drying using a fan is one of the best ways of enjoying them. With the matsutake, I peel/cut questionable pieces and make a broth which is easier to filter for grit. This broth is absolutely divine in steamed water eggs. Don’t get taken in by “prime” mushrooms or not. After experiencing matsutake in various shades and forms including store bought prized ones, I am beginning to think that flavor has to do with the terroir. Our forest makes for a wonderfully pine-y matsutakes. Wild foraged oysters are least fussy – they grow on tree trunks and are relatively clean. Fresh made egg pasta with butter sautéed oyster mushrooms is as good as a trip to a Michelin starred restaurant. Blewits look the prettiest on the plate. The puffballs melt like bone marrow in your mouth. Sometimes one get singletons and it is unclear what exactly to do with them, I am exploring pickling the medley.