Chanterelle Dreams and Amanita Nightmares

Strange that mankind should ever have used the mushroom.
All the various species of this substance are of a leathery consistence, and contain but little nutriment.
The condiments or seasonings which are added are what are chiefly prized.
Without these, we should almost as soon eat saw dust as mushrooms.

As I make my way through the world as a teacher and a guide for people who want to learn about mushrooming, I frequently am asked about which mushrooms are my favorites, which are the best, and which mushrooms are safe to start out eating. True of many endeavors—the initial bike ride, the first kiss, the first bungee jump—the first step in picking and eating a wild mushroom is the hardest and requires forethought, planning, and, inevitably, a leap of faith. (Of course, there are always people who leap blindly, without prior thought, a personality type I’ll address in the chapter on mushroom poisoning.) For the virgin mycophagist, the first mushroom collected, identified, and successfully transferred from the forest floor to the basket, from the basket to the pan, from the pan to plate, and finally from the plate to stomach, is an experience fraught with a mix of anxiety, anticipation, and excitement. For me it was that puffball in New Mexico. For someone in the Midwest, it would most likely be a morel; in New England it could be a chanterelle, a meadow mushroom, or a hen of the woods. The overwhelming majority of Americans never begin eating wild mushrooms. What if someone could make the initial leap less daunting? Many mycologists—both amateur and professional—have done just that by easing fears, teaching skills, and normalizing the idea of eating wild edible mushrooms. My work rests on the cushion of their leadership and guidance.

In 1943, an American mycologist named Clyde M. Christensen (1905– 1993) created the concept “Foolproof Four” to describe four edible mushrooms that were common, easily identified, and very unlikely to be confused with any poisonous species. His book, Common Edible Mushrooms, was one of the early American mushroom field guides that sought to bring the much feared and maligned world of mushrooms into people’s parlors and kitchens.¹ Christensen, a professor of mycology at The University of Minnesota, challenged the pervasive American belief that all wild mushrooms are suspect, fit only to be mowed over and removed from the lawn or the garden at first sight. “All too often these evanescent plants are looked upon as strange unearthly things, to be feared and avoided, if not trodden upon and destroyed.” With the support of the depression-era Work Projects Administration staff for preparation of the colored plates, Christensen wrote his small guide. He used clear, direct language to describe mushrooms and supportive words to encourage folks to gather, learn about, and make meals from the common mushrooms in their lawns, fields, and woods. He made no effort to cover all common species and avoided the tendency to overwhelm his audience with too much information. At the end of his book, he even added a series of recipes made with common wild mushrooms, written and contributed by well-known cooks and mycologists across America. Christensen sought to bring the enjoyment of mushrooming to a mycophobic America more than twenty years before Gordon Wasson used the terms mycophobic and mycophilic. In doing so, he coined a phrase and a short list of edibles that would endure for decades to follow.

Clyde Christensen’s Foolproof Four include the sponge mushrooms (morels), puffballs (the sulphur mushroom or sulphur polypore), and the shaggy mane, or shaggymanes, as he referred to them. He included all morels in the genus Morchella without differentiating among species and referred to them as sponge mushrooms, one of the common names for this group. Christensen also did not separate out the species of puffballs, but included all puffballs that grow above ground and have a pure white interior, including all Calvatia and Lycoperdon species. In choosing the sulphur mushroom (Polyporus sulphureus), Dr. Christensen recognized one species from a very large genus, a species that is now included in the genus Laetiporus. The last of the four is the shaggy mane mushroom (Coprinus commatus), a single distinct species within a very large group of mushrooms, the inky caps.

Clyde Christensen’s Foolproof Four include:

• Morels (or sponge mushrooms), genus Morchella without species named

• Puffballs (all puffballs growing above ground and with white interiors) including Calvatia and Lycoperdon species

• Sulphur mushroom or sulphur polypore, Polyporus sulphureus

• Shaggy mane, Coprinus comatus

During the six decades following publication of Common Edible Mushrooms, a lot has changed. The understanding of mushroom toxicology and genetics has expanded rapidly, and our ability to track mushroom poisoning and the species and toxins involved has improved immensely. Many of the older taxonomic groups have been divided into new genera and additional species to reflect what’s been discovered about their relatedness. This expanding knowledge affects our understanding of morels, puffballs, the sulphur shelf, and shaggy manes no less than it affects our understanding of other mushrooms. What has become of the reputations of the Foolproof Four and our understanding of them as distinct species and good safe edibles?

Genus: Morchella
Species: M. esculenta, M. elata, and M. crassipes, etc.

No single wild mushroom has captured the hearts, imagination, and stomachs of the American public like the morel. There are numerous morel cookbooks, and any decent gourmet shop will be stocked with a variety of morel products (read kitsch). The taste of morels seems to defy rational description; most people resort to poetic analogies referring to ambrosia, heavenly sauce, or a bit of nirvana. In his book, Morel Tales, Gary Fine quotes one morel hunter as saying that, until he ate a morel, nobody had ever been able to describe to him what they tasted like. “People just say they are ‘wonderful’ or ‘like nothing else’ while smiling knowingly as older girls do when asked by younger girls about love. But now that I have had my first taste, I can say that morels are tender and they are sweet. . . . As a matter of fact, they are ‘wonderful’ and taste ‘like nothing else.’ Just like they were described to me.”²

I recall one late spring fifteen years ago when I removed a tarp covering a lawn mower outside the home my wife and I rented in Thomaston, Maine, and discovered two perfect, young, 2–3-inch yellow morels, Morchella esculenta, fruiting in the old leaf litter and wood mulch beside the rear wheels. Since they were next to the house and protected from discovery by another hungry mushroom hunter, I decided to allow one mushroom time to grow larger and mature further before it met its final destiny in a sauté pan. Because morels grow slowly, it was another eleven days before I cut the now 7-inch morel and sliced it into thin rings. Simply sautéed in butter with salt and pepper and then added to a lightly cheesed omelet, it transformed a perfectly good omelet into a slice of heaven. The flavor of morels improves as they age, and the extra eleven days of growth deepened the rich morel taste. What began as an omelet became an archetypal experience in dining worthy of the finest restaurant.

There is a morel mystique that further adds to the sense of reverence with which enthusiasts speak about the coming of this rather odd and unappetizingly drab-looking ground-dweller. Unless you are blessed with living in the mid- to northern Midwest, morels are difficult to find in any numbers with any consistency during most years. I live in eastern Maine and, because I love the taste of morels, I have spent countless hours searching from mid-May to mid-June over the past twenty-five years. As someone who has embraced New England’s parsimony, I am embarrassed to estimate a number of morels-per-hour-searched value to my hunt, but suffice to say, the number would be less than one, and if you did not count the past five years, far less than one. The combined wisdom of age, time spent in study and pursuit of morels, and the act of sharing stories of success and failure with other area mycophiles have brought me to the lofty position of successfully finding morels along the coast every year. Thus, I feel worthy to share some of that wisdom.

When Clyde Christensen added morels to his Foolproof Four list, he didn’t differentiate among species within the genus Morchella, noting, “There are several species, but they are all enough alike to be described as one.” At the time, Christensen was living in an America that recognized perhaps three common species of morels: the morel, half-free morel, and black morel. In addition, there were a significant number of named species that closely resembled the common morels. Like many mushroomers, Christensen referred to the group as the sponge mushrooms due to the honeycomb appearance of the cap.

Morels, as we understand them today, are even more confusing than when Clyde Christensen was writing. (Thankfully, all the species in the genus Morchella are edible, though a few in related genera can cause sickening.) Morels belong primarily to the genus Morchella and there is a very active debate regarding the true number of species included in the group. According to the author Michael Kuo in his 2005 book Morels³ and on his Web site, www.mushroomexpert.com,⁴ North American Morchella can be divided into four morphologically distinct species groups. In New England, we primarily see Morchella esculenta, the yellow morel, and M. elata, the black morel. The yellow morel has several forms that are ‘at times’ split into separate species but are similar enough to be lumped together for this discussion. Black morels also are divided into additional dark-formed species of similar characteristics. Morel taxonomy is under active revision in this age of molecular and genetic analysis, and though all agree that the process is not complete, it seems clear that the U.S. morels will be grouped into related clans or clades of yellow morels, black morels, and a few others that don’t fit into either group. The morels represent a very small portion of the division of fungi known as Ascomycetes or sac fungi. These fungi form and mature their microscopic spores in sac-like mother cells called asci from which they are forcibly discharged upon maturity. The asci in morels line the surface of the honeycomb pits on the cap.

(The following description is for the yellow morel, Morchella esculenta.) Fruiting bodies are 3–6 inches tall (with occasional late-season varieties growing 12 or more inches) and 1–3 inches wide, with a generally conical sponge-like cap fused at the base to a pale central stalk (see #2 in the color insert). The stalk and cap are completely hollow with somewhat brittle flesh. The surface of the cap is composed of a honeycomb of pits that are vertically elongated at maturity and not arranged in rows. The color is variable, ranging from almost white-gray when the mushroom is young to pale yellow tan and at times light brown in older specimens (#1). The pits are generally darker than the intervening ridges. Stalks are narrower than the cap, pale yellow-tan, minutely roughened, and broadening at the base. The flesh is thin, brittle, and has a rich earthy odor that becomes more pronounced with age. The spore print is ochre-yellow.

The early morel, Verpa bohemica, is sometimes found in midspring. This is a small-capped morel with a longer stem and more infolded cap surface rather than the true pits of most morels. It is widely eaten in the western United States and in Europe but causes gastrointestinal distress in some individuals. It is not known whether this toxic reaction is due to inadequate cooking or idiosyncratic reactions, but beware of eating this mushroom, especially for the first time.

Known as the half-free morel or, in the Midwest, peckerheads, Morchella semilibera generally fruits early in the morel season and, in most years, it is rare in New England. I have found it under poplars and birch in moist rocky terrain. This mushroom generally resembles a small-capped morel with an elongated stalk that is watery and fragile. When cut longitudinally the cap clearly shows itself to be “half free” of the stalk. This species is edible with a similar flavor to other morels, though less pronounced.

In spite of the specific name esculenta (meaning succulent), Gyromitra esculenta and related species of false morels (#13) are mushrooms to leave in the basket or on the ground—anywhere but the cooking pot. The various species of false morels can be very toxic and are responsible for a number of deaths in Europe and serious poisonings in America. (See Chapter 9 for a full discussion.) My advice: Never eat this group! Our common false morel fruits earlier than most yellow Morchella and is commonly found in association with pines or in mixed woods. Unlike the true morels, Gyromitra caps do not show the typical pitted structure of the true morel. Rather, they show brain-like folds and convolutions. In addition, where morels are generally conical in shape, the false morels are more rounded or irregularly shaped.

Cook your morels! Morels contain a heat-labile toxin that is neutralized by cooking. For those adventurous cooks and those who like their vegetables cooked only lightly, this can pose an unexpected problem. In his book Mushrooms: Poisons and Panaceas, the pathologist and amateur mycologist Dennis Benjamin describes a 1992 banquet in Vancouver, British Columbia, whose guests included a number of city leaders, among them the head of the Department of Health. The chef for the evening made a festive salad to which he added a liberal number of chopped raw morels. Though likely thinking that the morels would add a touch of class, the result was 77 (out of 483) poisoned guests, many of whom required medical attention for severe gastric distress.⁵

As this book moved into the final stages of editing, a new study was being published detailing the results of analysis of a number morels collected in old commercial apple orchards from New Jersey to Vermont, along with analysis of soil samples from each site. The study, carried out by Eleanor and Efrat Shavit, was prompted by the arsenic poisoning of a long-time member of the New Jersey Mycological Society and an admitted morel maniac who reportedly collected thousands of morels from old apple orchards across New Jersey each spring since the 1970s. Following a long illness of increasing severity, the victim was diagnosed with acute arsenic poisoning in 2007 and, after ruling out alternate sources of contamination, attention focused on his morel-rich diet as the potential source of his problem. He was treated with intensive chelation therapy for nine months and regained his health.

From 1900 to 1980, an estimated 49 million pounds of lead arsenate and an additional 18 million pounds of calcium arsenate were applied to crops across the United States.⁶ Both lead and arsenic tend to be quite stable in inorganic form in the soil and it is recognized that much of the pesticide residue remains in the topsoil of fields and orchards where it was applied. The pesticide was the main one used in commercial orchards for more than fifty years, and an estimated 200 pounds per acre might have been applied on average. Following early indications that morels are able to accumulate metals from their environment, the Shavits, working with a small group of committed volunteers, arranged for soil and morels to be carefully collected in twenty-nine locations of apple orchards that were active between the mid-1800s and mid-1900s. The analysis revealed that morels are able to accumulate high levels of arsenic and lead from the soil and, although they do not reach the level of an acute poisoning risk, eating morels from these contaminated sites in large amounts over time can easily lead to toxic levels of these metals.⁷ It certainly warrants a much more cautious approach to collection and eating morels from old commercial apple orchards. If in doubt, consider testing the soil from sites where you regularly collect morels. I would avoid feeding orchard morels to children.

Each year, as I track the reports of mushroom poisonings across the country, there are a few cases where morels have caused gastric distress. There is no clearly discernable pattern to the victims, but a few common themes emerge. People who get sick often had alcohol with their meal of morels. In some cases the mushrooms may not have been fully cooked or were eaten raw. At other times it seems that an individual’s unique make-up is such that they are unable to tolerate this species. People who develop GI distress after they eat represent an incredibly small percent of the people who eat morels. To be sure you enjoy these delectable finds comfortably, eat only a small quantity the first time and be sure to fully cook your gourmet repast.

Morels are saprobes, using as their food source the leaf duff and wood in the soil. They also have been shown to form symbiotic, mycorrhizal associations with various tree species during parts of their life cycle. Their mycelia colonize broad areas, and often the fruiting body appears far from the original site of inoculation or obvious food source. The fruiting bodies can arise from over-wintered sclerotium produced the year before or can form directly from the mycelium. A sclerotium is a dense knot of compact hyphal tissue able to act as a form of battery, storing energy and tissue during periods of adverse weather and fueling rapid growth or fruit production when environmental conditions again become favorable. This energy-storing ability may be the primary reason that morels can fruit early in the year.

Now that we recognize that morels can form symbiotic mycorrhizal relationships with trees during portions of their life cycle, their growth and fruiting patterns make more sense. Recent studies suggest that morels living in symbiosis with trees are triggered to fruit heavily as the tree is nearing death or in the years immediately following its death. The food energy in the dead root tips plays into the surge of food energy needed to produce fruit as the mycorrhizal fungus switches to full saprobe on the dying or newly dead roots.⁸ This helps explain why morels often are found in greatest abundance in the two years following a forest fire and as elm trees die from Dutch elm disease. Trees stressed by infection or insect infestation also can trigger greater fruiting of morels, as can a mechanical injury to the trees or tree roots. A close Maine mushrooming friend of mine told me that she saw heavy fruitings around a young elm and an apple tree in the year following a field being disked, fertilized, and limed, and also around an apple tree following a driveway construction that disturbed the root system.

How Saprobes Feed

Saprobic fungi feed by growing their root-like hyphae into contact with their source of food, generally some form of dead plant tissue, and releasing powerful enzymes into the space surrounding their hyphal cells. These enzymes break apart large organic molecules or polymers of sugar such as cellulose, hemicellulose, and lignins into their component simple sugar–building blocks. The fungus is then able to transport some of these simple sugars into the cell for use as food. To put it simply, rather than ingestion of complex food followed by digestion into simple components (as happens in animals), fungi digest complex food outside of their “body” followed by ingestion into the cells. This same process occurs in the small patches of mold mycelium seen on bread left overlong in the breadbox. In a mycelial matrix composed of miles of hyphal strands, the degradation of organic matter into its component parts happens on a massive scale and results in a quantity of nutrients becoming available in a short period of time. Plant roots living in the same area benefit from the release of nutrients and their growth is enhanced. The lush growth along the leading edge of a fairy ring is caused by the fungal activity releasing nutrients previously bound up in dead plant tissue.

Morels occur singly or in small clusters. They often hide behind and amid sticks and vegetation. The edge of a boulder or log on the ground form common microclimates for fruiting. When you see one morel, stop, stay quiet lest you scare off its kinfolk, and scan the area around your find. By far, the best place to look for a morel is in an area where you have already found one. They blend well with their surroundings, and your first morel always will be the hardest to spot. Once you have the visual image burned into your brain, the next one is easier to pick out of the background litter.

In general, morels favor climates where there is a distinct winter followed by spring warmth; they don’t grow as predictably in areas with milder winters or where there is a less distinct passage from winter cold to spring warmth. Look for yellow or blond morels in your region when spring is in full glory with the explosion of newly emerging leaves taking center stage seemingly overnight after a week of warm weather accompanied by adequate rain. Here in northern New England look for shadbush in full bloom, the lawn almost ready for the initial mowing of the season, red oak leaves the size of squirrel ears, the apple blossom buds swelling into bloom, and the blackflies starting to bite. (#2) For Maine and the more northern Midwest, this generally means that the season begins in mid-May, but the timing varies due to weather patterns and your location in the state as well as the influence of altitude and slope aspect. The season generally lasts three or so weeks, longer in a cool wet spring. Black morels generally fruit two weeks earlier than yellows.

Morels grow in association with a range of tree species, most notably apples, elms, ash, and aspens in the Northeast. In the West, they grow with those same species, as well as with spruce, fir, and pines. In the Midwest and Southeast they are found associated with other trees such as the tulip magnolia and various nut trees. They tend to favor well-drained soils that are somewhat sweet or alkaline, and often can be found in areas of limestone bedrock or glacial gravelly soil, as well as in areas where there has been a recent fire.

Forest fire creates temporary conditions of sweet soil, and in the one to three years following a forest fire, morels can be found fruiting in large quantities. Historically, some European landowners would set fire to their land in hopes of increasing their morel yield! In the western United States, morel hunters use this knowledge of fire association to great advantage; commercial collectors from California to Alaska target areas where forest fires burned the previous year. Many enterprising commercial collectors travel with the seasonal mushroom wave as morel harvests peak from south to north, and a few make their livelihood in a time-honored tradition of the hunter-gatherer following their food sources through the seasons.⁹ My friend Michaeline Mulvey recalls eager mushroomers finding hundreds of M. elata following a large forest fire in western Maine some years ago.

Look for limestone areas and/or rich woods that support a good number of sugar maples, white ash, and basswood, or tree species that grow in sweet soil in your region of the country. Search old untended or overgrown apple orchards under and between the trees, especially where a tree is dying or has recently died. My most consistently productive collection site is an unproductive apple orchard with sixty- to seventy-year-old trees and abundant grass between the trees. I find individual morels and clusters in the grass and in among raspberry canes and dead branches beneath the trees. Morels also can be found around dying or newly dead elms, especially where the elms are growing on limestone soil. It is also worthwhile to look in garden beds the year following the addition of masses of bark or wood mulch. I have seen large fruitings of morels in these sites, though generally only for one to two years.

The bottom line: Morels are where you find them. The bottom, bottom line: This is one mushroom well worth finding! If all else fails, plan a trip to Michigan in May.

Across America morels fruit from January (California) into July (Rocky Mountains of Montana and Canada) as spring marches north. The peak times are from late March and April in southeastern states, late April and May in the Midwest and West Coast, and May through mid-June in the northern Midwest, New England, and the mountainous regions of the western United States. In different regions they are associated with various species of endemic trees and microclimates from sandy beach areas in parts of California and along the Gulf Coast to forests of spruce and fir in the mountains of Montana and Alberta. If you are a motivated novice, you’d be well advised to connect with experienced morel hunters in your area to learn about local habitat types that produce morels. Don’t bother asking about specific sites for collection. That type of brazen behavior is likely to elicit tall tales or outright deception as the morel collectors seek to protect their secret spots and have fun at your expense. I can state with some authority that experienced mushroom guides are not above the occasional well-baked bribe. At some point, inevitably, it will be up to the new hunters to take to the woods, scout their territory, and train their eyes to find this tasty, shy, elusive fungus.

For those who live in the Midwest and northern Midwest, many states hold annual morel festivals complete with competitions about the most morels found, the largest individual, and the most severe case of poison ivy. Minnesota is home to the National Morel Mushroom Festival, which held its fiftieth annual gathering in May 2010 in Boyne City, as well as many other local festivals. Illinois, Iowa, Michigan, Indiana, Minnesota, Kentucky, Illinois, and Ohio all have annual morel celebrations in their rural towns and small cities. In 1984, the Minnesota state legislature named the morel as the official state mushroom, facing some ridicule in the process, as Minnesota was the first of only two states to have a state-designated mushroom. (The other is Oregon, whose mushroom is the Pacific golden chanterelle.) Knowing the bounty of midwestern morels, in May and early June as spring greens and apple blossoms bring on thoughts of morels in cream sauce, I sometimes wish I were a midwestern man.

In Tennessee, Kentucky, Arkansas, and the mountains of northern Georgia, the morel season begins in the early spring, and when they come up there’s often a mountain man looking to bring ‘em home. I recently got an email from a well-known chef who related meeting a local Virginian preparing to head into the woods from a Blue Ridge mountainside parking lot. The man, garbed in camouflage and equipped with a couple of five-gallon mud buckets, was headed up slope to gather “morls.” When asked by the carload of food professionals how he liked to eat his morels, he said stewed with meats or simply pan fried, but that his favorite was to dip them (first cooked, I presume) in melted Cracker Barrel cheese. The morel cooking tips published and online reflect the diversity of tastes, from classic risottos and crepes to quiche and pasta sauces. On the more rustic level are morels coated with crushed corn flakes or potato chips and fried in butter, or the seasonally appropriate deep-fried wild turkey with fried morels.

In the heartland of America, morels have become a great unifier of people. In the words of one Tennessee turkey hunter: “It doesn’t really matter how you cook either one, but I always try to eat my morels with a freshly harvested wild turkey. Most of the morel hunters in Tennessee find their shrooms while they are chasing gobblers through the woods. Here’s my favorite recipe.”

Pluck your turkey (after scalding). Inject your turkey with Cajun butter (16 ounces) and rub Cajun seasoning salt over the whole turkey. Heat peanut oil to 375 degrees in a deep pot that will hold a turkey and 4 or 5 gallons of peanut oil. Fry about 3 minutes to the pound once oil has reached 375 degrees. Most wild turkeys will weigh between 10 and 15 pounds dressed and plucked. Keep your oil at a constant temperature. Sauté morels in butter and soy sauce. Add a dash of the Cajun turkey rub. (Courtesy of Keith S., Kingston Springs, Tennessee)

Cut morels at ground level with a sharp knife. Leave any old, over-mature ones to continue to release spores for the future. In general, morels do not begin to release their spores until they are quite mature. When cleaning your catch and preparing them for cooking or preservation, it is a good idea to cut them longitudinally in order to expose any sluggy or buggy hitchhikers within the hollow confines of stem and cap. Brush off any soil or debris adhering to the mushroom or, if needed, rinse with water and towel dry.

Morels dry well, retaining their full flavor. Sliced in half, they dry readily in a food dehydrator or on screens in a warm oven. Store fully dried morels in a sealed freezer bag or canning jar and the flavor will last for years. Morels also can be sautéed and frozen in serving-sized containers. In the Midwest, some collectors clean the morels and lightly coat them with flour. They are then frozen either raw or partially fried in butter and can later be popped into the frying pan right out of the freezer.

The rich, full flavor of morels is well suited to many preparations. Sautéed in butter and added to scrambled eggs with the scant needed salt and pepper shows off the flavor and will make a breakfast you long remember. In a cream sauce they will grace simple egg noodles, a chicken dish, or even toast.

To really enjoy the flavor of your freshly collected morels, keep it simple. In a large shallow pan or iron skillet, melt 2 tablespoons butter for each ½ pound of morels (you also can use olive oil or a mix) and add the morels. Cook thoroughly over low heat for 5–10 minutes, adding salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. For a truly decadent finish, add cream and heat to just under boiling. Enjoy this dish right out of the pan, on rice, or over meat or chicken.

2 cups crushed saltine (or other) crackers, flour, a corn meal and flour mixture, crushed corn flakes, or crushed potato chips

There are as many variations to this recipe as there are for homemade mac and cheese, but the basic theme is consistent. Using fresh morels cleaned and sliced lengthwise, dip the morels into the egg mixture and then dredge them in a coating of whatever happens to be in the pantry and complements the mushrooms. Season with salt, pepper, and other spices. Each aficionado swears by his or her own special coating, the simplest being just flour, salt, and pepper.

Once coated, pop them directly into your favorite cast iron skillet or wide sauté pan into which you have already added generous quantities of butter. Fry them over medium heat for at least 4–5 minutes per side until they are fully cooked and browned. Enjoy them hot as an appetizer, main dish, side dish, breakfast, lunch, or snack. Whatever coating or fat you use, this is the most common method for cooking wild morels across the hinterlands of America. And it is good!

Put olive oil in heated pan over medium heat. Add garlic and shallots, stir and sauté until softened but not brown. Add butter until melted, then add morels. Stir and cook until mushrooms are soft, about 3–5 minutes. Add wine and chicken stock, salt and pepper, and cook for 5 minutes. Add cream and cook on low until thickened somewhat. Do not allow to boil. Additional ground pepper is nice here. Enjoy over egg noodles or fettuccini, or alongside rice or couscous.

This can be made easily with chicken. I use boneless thighs cut into generous bite-sized bits. Start by browning the chicken in olive oil over high heat. When well browned, remove chicken from the pan, set aside, and continue with the rest of the recipe, adding the chicken back in with the wine and chicken stock.

Genus: Calvatia and Lycoperdon
Species: C. gigantea, C. craniformis, L. pyriforme, etc.

As I walk through the woods or along the edge of a field (or even as I am driving in my car) and spot a desirable edible or medicinal mushroom, I get a zing of electricity that quickens my heartbeat and brings a grin to my face. The hunter, at last, has his chosen prey in sight. When I come upon a giant puffball, Calvatia gigantea, (#3), or a group of these fungal behemoths lounging in a field, that zing is instead a jolt as I see the immense bounty of mushrooms before me. Puffballs are many mushroomer’s first edible.

Picture a balloon, generally spherical, straining at the confines of its envelope and packed with all the air it can hold. The puffball represents the most obvious fungal strategy for maximizing the number of spores an organism can make and distribute in a given area of space and volume. It is a round ball ranging in size from a marble to much larger than a basketball and, at maturity, is completely packed with spore dust. The entire interior mass of the puffball is composed of gleba—spores and the hyphae needed to support their growth—surrounded by a thin envelope of skin and, in some species, a base or column of sterile tissue to raise the spore mass above the surface of the ground.

Puffballs are categorized as gastromycetes (“stomach fungus”) because they make spores in their “stomachs.” This is a relatively large and diverse group of fungi with a number of genera. In the northeast United States the two most common genera are Calvatia, composed of medium to large puffballs more commonly found in open grassy areas, and the much smaller Lycoperdon. These small to medium puffballs usually are found in the woods and, when mature, release their spores through a small apical pore or operculum at the top of the fruiting body.

Puffballs tend to be found more commonly in drier regions of the world because producing spores within an enclosed sac reduces the risk of their drying out in desert air before maturing. For suburban or rural American kids, a mature puffball is great fun to kick or throw around since a cloud of an almost unbelievable number of spores will explode from it on impact. Studies carried out (no doubt by unpaid graduate students) have estimated that a 12-inch-diameter giant puffball matures somewhere in the neighborhood of 7–9,000,000,000,000 spores. Yes, that means 7–9 trillion! According to David Arora in Mushrooms Demystified, 7 trillion puffball spores lined up side to side would circle the Earth at the equator, and if each spore produced one mature puffball, they would reach to the Sun and back!¹⁰

But it’s the immature puffball that interests those of us who collect them for the table. A young puffball is firm and fairly dense. If, when it is sliced longitudinally from top to base, it is pure white inside, you have a mushroom worth eating, or at least trying. As a puffball ages, the tissue becomes soft and slimy, turning yellowish or greenish yellow or even purple in one group. At this stage it not only looks less appetizing, it becomes quite bitter. You wouldn’t get sick from one yellowish puffball, but the bitterness is pronounced enough that one bad mushroom will spoil the pot. Eat only firm puffballs with pure white centers.

Along the coast of New England, we commonly see five species of puffballs with good cooking potential, although others also occur. These same species and a number of similar and edible cousins are found regularly across much of the United States and Canada. West of the Mississippi River, in the prairie and mountain states, there are far more species of puffballs, quite a few with great edible potential; consult a regional field guide in your area for local species variations.

The giant puffball, Calvatia gigantea (#3), is a large to huge white-skinned puffball that normally grows to about 16 inches in diameter, not uncommonly up to 24 inches, and at times exceeds 3 feet. The body is a bit more broad than tall, resulting in an irregular globose shape. Its cream to white surface skin thinly covers the gleba with no sterile base. The gleba is initially pure white and firm, and slowly ages yellowish to olive green as the spores mature. When mature, the skin irregularly flakes off, exposing the olive-green to yellow spore mass to the elements for dispersal. C. gigantea is a saprobe that feeds on dead vegetation and generally is found in open fields, field edges, or occasionally in forested areas (including under a Norway maple in our area). It can fruit singly or in scattered groups and, rarely, in arcs or fairy rings.

The smaller purple-spored puffball, Calvatia cyathiformis, is also a denizen of fields and lawns and also can be found in roadside ditches and along grassy shoulders. The fruiting body is up to 8 inches across and of generally equal height. Initially round with a flattened top, the fruiting body develops into a somewhat pear-shape; picture a loaf of bread sliced in half or the shape of a skull. The purple-spored puffball develops the same shape in longitudinal cross section. Unlike C. gigantea, the purple-spored puffball has a thick layer of sterile tissue along its base that serves to elevate the spore mass above the soil surface. This persistent sterile cup often can be found well into the winter and spring, months after the spores have dispersed, as a shallow purple cup-shaped remnant. Like its larger cousin, C. cyathiformis has an interior that begins as firm pure white gleba and with age becomes purple and goopy as the mass of spores begin to mature, and finally a mass of purple powdery spores. Edible when young, firm, and pure white inside, it is considered by some to be choice and by others as a passable edible. Given its skull-like shape, it is ironic that I see it most frequently in graveyards in New England. The similar C. craniformis is known as the skull-shaped puffball and is equally edible.

If you spend much time in the woods in late summer and fall, the gem-studded puffball, Lycoperdon perlatum, is the most common species of puffball you’re likely to see. Individuals, small groups, or occasionally, as I found recently in a spruce plantation, troops of hundreds of these 1–3-inch puffballs grow on leaf or needle duff and rarely, on well-rotted wood. The individual puffballs are somewhat pear-shaped, white to cream in color, and covered with a fine coating of small spines or scales, giving the appearance of studs. As the fruit ages, these spines generally wear off and leave faint circular outlines in their passing. The interior of the puffball starts firm and white and soon softens and changes to yellowish and then greenish. Though gem-studded puffballs are edible when they’re young and white, by the time the color changes the taste becomes quite bitter. Instead of the general disintegration of the skin as in Calvatia, the Lycoperdon species develop a small opening called an operculum at the apex of the body through which the mature brownish spores are released by the action of raindrops and wind.

From a distance, the pear-shaped puffball, Lycoperdon pyriforme, closely resembles its gem-studded cousin. Both tend to be smaller than 2 inches in diameter, grow commonly in clusters, and are found primarily in late summer and fall in the woods. On closer examination, however, several differences emerge. L. pyriforme is found growing on well-rotted wood, especially stumps and logs lying on the ground and less often on rotting organic debris on the ground. The individual fruiting bodies are pear-shaped with a sterile base, as in L. perlatum, but tend to be more elongated and have only minute warts, almost granular in texture, across the surface. It is common to see thick white strands of mycelium called rhizomorphs trailing from the sterile base of this puffball when it is pulled from the ground. It is considered equally edible when collected in the young, firm, pure white stage and equally bitter if eaten when it’s too mature.

There are a number of other less common puffballs. If you intend to expand your list of edible puffballs, identify the new type to species and, as with all new edibles, sample a small amount initially for desirability and safe eating.

There is one group of easily distinguished puffballs that can cause problems if eaten. The genus Scleroderma (“hard-skinned”) contains several common species that are quite distinctive in two ways. First, the outer skin of the fruiting body is thick and tough when fresh and leathery when dry, lending the common name “pigskin puffball” to at least one member of this group. The second is that the interior gleba of these puffballs is a dark gray to purple-black color from a very early (and firm) stage, making it unlikely that one would mistake it for the white flesh of an edible puffball. Scleroderma puffballs have been known to cause moderate to severe gastrointestinal distress.

Lycoperdon marginatum, sometimes called the peeling puffball due to its habit of sloughing off its studded skin in small sheets, is another species to avoid. Though generally reported as edible when young and firm, this species has been shown to contain hallucinogenic compounds and is reportedly used in Mexico as an intoxicant. There have been no complaints regarding people experiencing hallucinogenic episodes in the United States that I can find, though it has caused some incidences of gastrointestinal distress in the western states.

It’s important to pay attention to the interior of any puffball you intend to eat to ensure that the flesh is gleba and it’s not an immature Amanita button. Amanita mushrooms start out as small rounded buttons at ground level, completely enclosed within a membrane skin called a universal veil. When they expand into the mature fruit, the veil ruptures, leaving behind remnants of a sac attached to the base of the mushroom or scars of the universal veil on the swollen stalk base and “warts” or patches of the veil tissue scattered across the cap. In the button stage, poisonous amanitas occasionally have been mistaken for puffballs. However, the longitudinal cross section of an amanita button will always show the outlines of the cap and stem, not the undifferentiated flesh of the puffball. Each year there are reports of unwary mycophiles eating immature amanitas mistaking them for puffballs, primarily in the western United States. Be aware and eat warily!

Puffballs are primarily saprobes, feeding on partially rotted plant material from leaf and grass or on dead rotted wood. Some grow and fruit on disturbed, packed ground without an obvious food source. Most grow on well-rotted wood or in open grassy areas. At times, species such as C. gigantea form arcs or fairy rings of fruiting bodies.

There is little consensus regarding the gastronomic merit of our gastromycetes. Gary Lincoff, in his Audubon Guide to North American Mushrooms, practically raves about puffballs, giving most a “Choice” rating.¹¹ Other mycophiles, including Michael Kuo, are lukewarm about eating puffballs, opining that they merely take on the flavor of the butter used for cooking.¹² After my initially excited stage of dining on puffballs as a young adult, I left them behind for most of twenty years as I expanded my repertoire of edible fungi to include more famous gems. I came to appreciate again the flavor of the giant puffball several years ago when I entered one in a public tasting of four common autumn mushrooms simply sautéed in olive oil with salt and pepper. When compared with the sulphur shelf, horse mushroom (Agaricus arvensis), and hen-of-the-woods (Grifola frondosa), the puffball stood proud. It brought home to me just how tasty puffballs can be. Butter flavor indeed!

This is a variation on a recipe attributed to Hope Miller. This can be used with the giant puffball or with other medium-sized varieties.

Use firm white puffballs. Clean the puffballs, cutting off the base and removing any soil. Some folks prefer to peel them; I don’t. Slice into ½-inch rounds. Beat egg and milk in wide shallow bowl. Mix together flour, cheese, breadcrumbs, salt, and pepper in a second shallow bowl. Melt butter and add oil in a wide, shallow, thick-bottomed pan and heat until hot, but not smoking. Dip slices into egg mix and dredge in crumb/cheese mix. Fry puffball slices until well browned on both sides. Drain on paper towel and serve hot.

Imagine walking through the woods in Maine in the early fall. Your senses are filled with the deep moistness and myriad shades of green and brown with gradations of reds, yellows, and light touches of blues and purples. In the midst of this palette, you come upon a large fruiting cluster of the sulphur shelf, or chicken mushroom. The brilliance of the bright orange and lemon yellow colors is visually over the top and can be seen from a great distance. (See #5 in the color insert.) There are few mushrooms able to compete with the sulphur shelf for sheer radiance and ebullience. With its large overlapping clusters gracing the side of a tree or on a downed log, it is eye-catching and pulse-quickening for those who know how tasty this mushroom can be.

At one time, essentially all mushrooms having a leathery or woody texture and whose spores were generated from pore-like openings were classified in the genus Polyporus. As we learned more about mushroom taxonomy, various groups were split out of Polyporus and into separate genera and today there are scores of genera in the family Polyporaceae. The sulphur shelf was placed in the genus Laetiporus. Though Dr. Christensen treated the sulphur shelf as one entity, we now know that it consists of a complex of closely related species within the genus. The species in the sulfur shelf complex are found throughout North America and Europe and can grow on a wide range of tree hosts. In New England we find bright orange and yellow L. sulphureus growing on the wood of hardwood trees. L. cincinnatus is found growing in a rosette pattern on the ground at the base of hardwoods, usually oak. It has a whitish pore surface and a more pale orange-pink cap surface and is equally edible (some say superior) to the classic sulphur shelf.¹³L. huroniensis is a saprobe on overmature conifers, but this is somewhat rare in Maine and more common in southern New England and the northern Midwest. In the western United States, L. conifericola is generally found on conifer wood as the name implies. Finally, L. gilbertsonii generally is found growing on eucalyptus in the western United States.¹⁴

The sulphur shelf is seen first emerging from the wood of a standing tree or downed log as a series of pale yellowish globules that develop orange tops with yellow edges and undersides over the following days. At this young stage the flesh is quite soft, tender, and juicy. It bruises easily and can exude copious amounts of a yellowish liquid. Over the course of several days to a week, the fruiting body develops into a set of overlapping shelf-like projections with thin and, at times wavy, margins. (#6) The top remains bright orange until faded by sunlight and age. The pore surface is sulfur yellow with 2–4 tiny pores per mm that become visible as the fruit matures. The spore color is white. On a large log or tree, clusters of fruiting shelves easily can total in excess of fifty pounds. As the fruit matures, it becomes increasingly tough and almost woody in texture, though the growing margins of the individual shelves often remain tender.

An important note of caution! Over the years, there have been a few people who react to the sulphur shelf with moderate gastrointestinal distress, and occasional reports of numb lips and tingling tongues. When you eat this mushroom for the first time, eat a small portion and see how you tolerate it. I have seen an estimate that up to 10 percent of people cannot tolerate the sulphur shelf. This seems way too high a number when compared with my observations over the years and the documented reports in the literature. However, I personally know several people who are unable to tolerate it. The reason for the reactions has been discussed by many and is understood by few or none. Certainly, it should always be thoroughly cooked before eating, as sulphur shelf contains a toxin neutralized by cooking, and undercooked or raw mushrooms will sicken people. There are those who believe that those related species growing on conifers, such as L. huroniensis and L. conifericola, will cause GI distress and should be avoided. Others, especially on the West Coast, believe that the mushrooms fruiting on eucalyptus confer toxicity. Still others will place the blame on individuals eating specimens that are too old and tough. Perhaps as the mushroom-eating public develops a better understanding of the differences among species, the cause of sulphur shelf toxicity may become clearer. Until then, enjoy this mushroom in a young stage, collected off hardwood trees, cooked well, and, if it is your first time, try a small portion to confirm that it is a mushroom friendly to your chemistry.

The sulphur shelf is a weak parasite on living trees and a vigorous saprobe on dead wood. Its mycelium colonizes the heartwood of a mature living tree through a wound and can live and fruit for many years without causing noticeably reduced vigor to its host. As it grows and colonizes the tree, the mycelia rot the heartwood, feeding on the cellulose of the wood and vastly weakening the main roots, the trunk, or both. Once a tree or branch dies and falls to the ground, the mushroom will continue to flourish, fruiting for a number of years on a large log and eventually reducing it to crumbling remains. I recently photographed a luminously beautiful cluster gracing the top of a red oak log. The mushroom has been fruiting on the same length of downed oak in June for more than twenty years, slowly fruiting further out from the butt end of the tree as the fungus consumed the nutrients in the wood.

The sulphur shelf is able to grow on a wide variety of trees, though in New England it is most common on oak, ash, and cherry. It can be found fruiting on living trees or dead wood and occasionally can be found fruiting on the ground where there is buried wood or roots (see L. cincinnatus above). This species will fruit throughout much of the summer and fall beginning in June and continuing through October with a tendency to peak in early autumn if the rain cooperates. Though the fruiting bodies will recur on the same tree for many years, it is unusual for fruit to be produced every year. In Maine I have observed that a sulphur shelf tree will fruit every two to three years on average, more often on oak and less often on ash.

With the combination of bright orange top and yellow pore surface, this fungus cannot easily be mistaken for another mushroom. It is considered to be a good edible and enjoyed by most mushroom hunters, including me. These are the two principal reasons Dr. Christensen had for including the sulphur shelf in his list of foolproof edibles. The firm flesh, bright colors, and good flavor make it an attractive staple in many mushroom dishes. The bright colors are not affected by cooking, so this fungus adds flavor and color to soups, omelets, stir-fries, and sauces. The texture of the chicken mushroom is firm and holds up well in simmered sauces, soups, and dishes.

Because of its firm texture and beautiful color, this fungus lends itself to a stir-fry. The color remains with cooking and brightens any mixture of meat and veggies used. Though this is written as a vegetarian recipe, it can be adapted easily to chicken or another meat. If using meat, add it with the oil and ginger and quickly cook through. Remove before adding veggies and return it when the sauce is added.

1 teaspoon red chili flakes OR 1 teaspoon chili sauce OR ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper

Start the sauce in a small, heavy saucepan by placing all ingredients except cornstarch and sesame oil over heat. Allow to boil gently for about 5 minutes and then reduce heat, add cornstarch, and stir till sauce thickens (should take 30–45 seconds at most).

For the stir-fry, make certain all your ingredients are prepped and ready before starting; things move swiftly. Make sure you are constantly in attendance to keep your ingredients moving in the pan.

Heat a wok or heavy, high-sided frying pan over medium-high heat and add peanut oil, ginger, and the carrots and cook for 2–3 minutes before adding mushrooms and allowing to cook for another minute.

Add the rest of the veggies and 9781603582148_content_0074_001

of the sauce and continue cooking for 2–3 minutes. (If using chicken or shrimp, add the mostly cooked meat back in at this point). Broccoli should be softened somewhat but still firm and bright green.

The shaggy mane welcomes in the autumn weather in the same way that morels are a harbinger of spring. This bullet-headed mushroom is a common resident in suburban and rural landscapes and pops up from disturbed open ground around the time you start searching under the car seat for the window scraper the morning you greet that first heavy frost. (See #4 in the color insert.) It is a heartwarming sight to see a lawn or field with dozens of these benign whitish missiles protruding through the grass. The shaggy mane’s reputation as an easily identified, safe edible without problematic look-alikes remains unsullied in the new millennium. Yet, in my experience, shaggy manes are the least frequently eaten of the Foolproof Four.

Taxonomists have not been as gentle with the organization of this group as mycophagists have been with their edibility. The genus Coprinus has undergone a complete overhaul following recent molecular analysis of the family of meadow mushroom fame. The shaggy mane, the originally described species of the genus, remains a species of Coprinus but with only three others. The remaining 160 or so species have been divided among three other genera based on molecular and morphological analysis. If you are interested in more details about Coprinus taxonomy, consider seeking out the work of Scott Redhead¹⁵ or refer to the papers listed on Tom Volk’s page on shaggy manes.¹⁶

Shaggy manes have a distinctive cylindrical or bullet shape that stands out in the open areas where they occur. The bodies are typically 4 to 8 inches high (but occasionally much taller), and no more than 2 inches wide. The cap is white with a pale brown apex and covered with coarse brown-tipped scales, giving it its common name. When the mushroom is young, the cap almost completely covers the stalk that reaches down through the grass duff to anchor in the ground. With age, the pure white, hollow stalk, several inches longer than the cap, becomes more visible along with a fleshy movable annular ring that soon disappears.

The gills of the shaggy mane are completely covered by the young cap as it hugs the stalk. They are densely packed and initially pure white, though with age they begin to turn pink and then rapidly darken to black as, from bottom to top, they melt into an inky liquid mass of spores. This is known as deliquescing, a process in which the cells of the cap self-digest as a method of aiding spore release. The gills “melt” beginning at the base of the cap and, as the spores are released, the gill tissue turns into a watery mass and exposes the tissue above to the air for spore release. In the process, many of the spores become a part of the inky mess that gives this genus its common name, “inky caps.” In days long past, this black mushroom spore goo was used as writing ink and proved to be quite durable.

Shaggy manes are saprobes that grow on buried wood or in soil that is rich in partially decomposed vegetable matter. You will find them fruiting just before and after the first frosts of autumn. Occasionally they also fruit lightly in the spring but cannot be counted on. Look for them on recently disturbed or “made” ground where earth moving, landscaping, lawn creation, or logging has resulted in buried wood, dead roots, or other forms of buried organic matter. Shaggy manes can grow singly, but are more commonly found fruiting in trooping numbers clustered or scattered over open ground in lawns, fields, roadsides, or waste ground. At times they fruit in great profusion in a small area and the lucky passing mycophagist can leisurely pick only the cleanest young, firm fruit.

A few years ago, the owners of a large seaside estate that was, unfortunately, located close to a highway decided to redouble their privacy by building a 6-foot-high berm of earth that they then planted in rugosa roses and evergreen shrubs. The berm was made up of a mixture of soil transported in for the job mixed with soil pushed up from the land beyond, and was therefore a jumble of soil and plant material. A year later and for the two following seasons, shaggy manes appeared in huge clusters of scores of mushrooms as the fungus took advantage of the mass of easily available dead organic matter. In a manner typical of this species, the third year there were a few and this past year I saw none, as the task of breaking down the easily available duff was complete.

Once you have found the bounty and picked the crop, all pretenses of leisure ends since you must cook or freeze your prize within a day or you will be left with an inky mess. Picking these mushrooms only seems to increase the speed of decay, and refrigeration does little to slow the breakdown process. Cooking stops the process of “inkinization” and sautéed mushrooms can be kept refrigerated for several days or frozen for later use.

Shaggy manes, like all edible inky caps, are best picked and eaten when they are young and firm. If they have begun to darken, the mature tissue can be cut off, but only the pure white caps and stems are fit to eat. I have, however, known people who actively encourage the breakdown and use the resulting ink to make a land-based “squid ink” pasta. Shaggys are best cooked lightly in butter or light olive oil and enjoyed simply with salt and pepper. They have a distinct, full, and pleasant flavor and are also a great addition to a cream soup. To preserve for future use, lightly sauté the caps and freeze them in individual portions in zip-lock bags or small containers. Do not even think of trying to dry these mushrooms unless you pick them quite young and can use a hot-air dryer!

The first time I made this easy soup and served it to friends almost guaranteed I’d make it again. They haven’t stopped asking for the next chance to enjoy it. This recipe also can be used with other mushrooms and adapts well to horse or meadow mushrooms.

1 large leek or 2 smaller (use white and pale green portions), sliced into rings

Peel (optional) and quarter potatoes. Add to soup pot and just cover with the water. Boil moderately until quite tender, 20–30 minutes.

Remove dark green leek leaves and roots. Slice lengthwise and rinse under cold water to remove all grit trapped between layers. Slice leeks crosswise into half rings. Heat medium pan over a medium flame. Add butter/oil and cook leeks gently for about 7–10 minutes, making sure they do not dry out. Add a few dashes of wine or stock at a time to keep moist.

When the leeks are nearly done, add the mushrooms and a generous grind of pepper and sauté for 5 minutes. Add wine and chicken stock and stir until blended.

When potatoes are tender, remove from heat and blend both potatoes and mushroom leek mixture in a food processor until smooth. Use as much of the potato water as needed to maintain a somewhat thickened consistency. Return to pot.

Simmer very gently, stirring occasionally to avoid scorching. When almost boiling, add cream and salt and pepper to taste. Heat gently but do not boil.

In a world that is constantly changing, the relative endurance of the Foolproof Four is heartening, but it is also telling because, of course, even they are not entirely foolproof. People often ask me questions designed to confirm their assumptions about the edibility of a mushroom. The typical question is, “Aren’t all _________ mushrooms edible?” People who have known me for a long time recognize my frozen pause as I decide on the most appropriate way to burst the questioner’s bubble. Making decisions on the edibility of a mushroom can be made only one species, even one mushroom, at a time, based on certainty of both the identification and edibility of the mushroom. Even in a list of four safe mushrooms—a list that has endured for more than sixty-five years—two of the mushrooms are known to occasionally disrupt the fragile gastrointestinal equilibrium of some people who eat them, and our understanding of all of them has undergone significant revisions since Christensen first presented the world with his list. Any list of foolproof mushrooms must carry with it a caveat and the reality of individual vulnerabilities and, therefore, is never completely foolproof.

I occasionally think about developing a Foolproof Four list for Maine, or a Triumphant Three, or Fantastic Five, or a Sumptuous Six. The mushrooms would be different, but the concept remains the same. There is value in shining a light on a select group of mushrooms, easily identified, commonly occurring, and safely edible. For the novice mushroomer, such a list is one part of a roadmap into the new territory of mycophagy, where the initial exploration always brings anxiety and perceived peril along with the excitement. In the following pages I describe a few great wild mushrooms that would be apt candidates for foolproof list in Maine, the Northeast, and many other temperate locales.