Tonight we will dine on chanterelle pizza thanks to my little family of foragers. Our friend Anna has been sharing her mushrooming spots around town. Don’t worry moms, they take a field guide.
Even Levi, the notorious mushroom hater, has been getting in on the hunt. This child has disliked mushrooms since he was tiny. Back in the day, he would actually vomit if he tried them. I think our adventurous eater is now slowly starting to try a mushroom here and there.
I hope to join in on the fun next time. While you do have to be very careful with fungi, I am inspired lately to become more of a forager. Why pay $5 for a tiny container of blackberries or $15 a pound for chanterelles when these grow wild right around us? Conversations about foraging lately have caused me to take notice of the fear of food that doesn’t come wrapped in plastic in neat little rows at the grocery store. Thankfully this only inspires me to get more in touch with where my food comes from.
Now I just have to learn how to clean and cook these behemoths. I am ashamed to admit that the last time Jess brought home a lobster mushroom we let it go bad. And boy was that ever gross (not to mention baffling) to have our vegetarian fridge smell like rotting fish. Lobster mushroom recipe suggestions welcome, people!