I have a problem. I do not like mushrooms. The texture of cooked mushrooms grosses me out. The flavor doesn’t impress me. I just don’t like them. Trying to be a good sport, and see if my tastes have evolved, I do try them every time one ends up on my plate, but my impression of them remains unchanged.
This is a problem, because mushrooms comprise an enticingly large percentage of our wild edibles. When reading through foraging guides, I longingly page through vast sections of ocean-loving edibles, both plant and animal, that I don’t have local access to here in land-locked Columbus, Ohio. While I can’t do much to change my fate when it comes to a lack of coastal foraging, however, I do have the opportunity to take advantage of the abundance of fungi that make their home in the various habitats of the Midwest. In fact, I’ve found mushrooms as near as 6 steps out of my back door.
I could just hunt for these edibles and pass them along to friends who would be happy to enjoy them without me. But, for me, part of the joy of foraging is partaking in what nature offers us if we care to take her up on her offer. It’s time for me to man up (person up?), with your help.
Whoever can make me a dish that will make me change my mind about mushrooms will receive a piece of felted artwork, one-of-a-kind, made by me.
Propose your recipe (or opt to keep it secret, if you wish) and a few dates and times in the comments below. (I will gladly provide an accompanying dish for this fete de champignons.)