I gathered, I photographed, I consulted, I googled, I read, I facebooked with foragers, I sniffed, I emailed, I tested, I waited, I nibbled, I waited, I decided. No yellow stain on the flesh when bruised, no weird symptoms in me after my small test piece, I sauteed, I ate. Actually, I had forgotten them until an email from Ellen this evening reminded me that I had mushrooms to eat. Vince was at a party for his work, and so he was spared the ordeal. I think he should write a story called The Forager's Husband.
They were just drop dead (...uh, that was unintentional...) delicious. Agaricus campestris confirmed. Meadow mushroooms. I didn't mess with them. Butter, lemon, salt and pepper, good brown bread, toasted.
I saved one mushroom for a spore print per Ellen's instructions. Up in her Pennsylvanians woods she has yet another crop of black trumpet mushrooms.
And now that I know where these live, I might go back for more.
Oh my goodness Marie- that is perfect!
ReplyDeleteI'm sitting at the computer after a hard days catering and decidedly nibblish and I want your mushrooms on toast (toast looks seriously good too)
I have some leftover button and brow- mushrooms, from todays chicken dish, not nearly as exotic, but I'll have to make do! x
I'm so very very envious. May I come with you when you go to check on future crops? Black trumpets are nice, but not nearly as meaty as your Agaricus!
ReplyDeleteYou all are making me add "foraging" to my long term to do list! Those look great
ReplyDeleteThe Forager's Husband. Whahaha. Ek drink 'n glasie op jou dapperheid.
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