Exmoor Mushroom Magic
People always talk about going mushroom picking in September and into the autumn, but living where I do I’ve often found the common field mushroom out and about in June or July.
It all depends on the weather. A warm and humid patch after some rain shoaled bring them out. Which is what we’ve had recently - but so far I must admit I’ve only found one single common field mushroom in the valley.
The south of England is supposed to be richer in fruits of the woods than anywhere else in the world - and, given the harvests over the past few days, I believe it.
You have to be a bit careful though. There is a commonly found version of the field mushroom called the Yellow Stainer (agaricus xanthodermus) and it will make you quite sick. According the great mushroom man Roger Phillips, "The symptoms are sweating, flushing and severe stomach cramps - but only some people are affected."
Beware of field mushrooms that have a yellow tint to them. Break one open and if the torn flesh turns yellow - forget it.
A lot of people like horse-mushrooms. I used to be a big fan, but perhaps I've eaten too many. They can be incredibly strong if you get them when they're a little past their best. Actually, I had a couple of young fresh ones from a sheep field on the Brendons the other day and they were delicious. I only had a couple because each was as big as a tea plate and two were almost too much to eat.
Picking field mushrooms with Philip Bowern and David Hill in deepest darkest Devon
Another king-sized recent find was a giant puffball. When I say giant - I mean boulder-sized. We divided it and shared it between four families - no point keeping it or trying to store it as puffball goes off faster than anything else I know. When fresh, the soft white flesh is fantastic - like a sort of fungi-flavoured marshmallow. Fried in butter with a little salt and ground black pepper - that's all you have to do.
Incidentally, I have been told that if all the zillions of spores from one of these giants actually fruited and grew as large as its mum - then the earth's surface would be 28 feet thick in puffball. But then, perhaps that's one of those magic mushroom facts.
I have to say that I love hunting for fungi as much as I love eating the stuff. The enchantment of the mysterious mycelium is never lost on me. There's nothing better than a stroll into quiet, dark, ancient woodlands to discover these wonderful morsels peeping out of a mossy bank. I've noticed that, somehow, you get your eye in. The first cep can be difficult to find - but once you've found one, you're on your way to victory.So what to do with your find of field mushrooms? The very best thing is to enjoy them as simply as you can, which means frying them in good local butter, allowing the black juices to evaporate in the heat, before placing them on a thick slice of good bread smeared with yet more good butter. I sprinkle the whole lot with Maldon salt and use fresh ground white pepper rather than black.
Field mushroom soup is as easy to make as it is delicious. Fry the washed and cleaned mushrooms along with a little garlic and one or two crushed cardamom pods, then add as much whole milk as seems reasonable after you’ve taken about a quarter of the mushrooms out of the pan to add later. Bring the whole lot to a warm simmer – add a slosh or two of good quality Japanese soy sauce at this stage – and cook on an extremely low heat for half an hour.
Allow to cool, pick out the cardamoms, then blitz the whole lot with a hand-blender. Add the reserved fried mushrooms to give the soup a satisfying texture. Reheat, stirring in some butter or a little Greek yoghurt along with copious amounts of fresh ground black pepper and a little salt to taste.
