A Good Day Foraging and Feasting with the Mighty Anthony Blowers

A Good Day Foraging and Feasting with the Mighty Anthony Blowers

Grifola Frondosa grows in clusters at the base of Oaks and is known among English speakers as Hen-Of-The-Woods.

Grifola Frondosa grows in clusters at the base of Oaks and is known among English speakers as Hen-Of-The-Woods.

“Morels, Amanitas, Boletes — these are all mushrooms that share symbiotic relationships with their surrounding environment. It’s the symbiotic relationship that I’m really fascinated with, because it tells us how everything is connected. And mushrooms are definitely connected to trees, and they’re sending signals back and forth under-ground through their mycelial strands. There’s a lot of amazing communication happening in nature.”

Speaking of amazing communication, there’s a highlighted statement from a day chock full of highlight statements conveyed by our beloved Western Michigan Mycologist Anthony Blowers, the Mushroom Mogel and Master at leading others into learning, loving, and unearthing treasures of the natural world. And then eating them Lol. I knew we were in for a good time when Anthony I.D.’d the weeds I let grow in front of the retreat house (‘cause they looked cool and clover-like) as edible Wood Sorrel, giving new meaning to the term, “Eat the house.” But out on the trail and in the backwoods is where the magic really occurs, as he explained how Mycorrhiza mushrooms, fungus that share a mutual, symbiotic relationship with surrounding plants, connect with the plant’s Rhizosphere, or root system, playing important roles in plant nutrition, as well as the biology and chemistry of the surrounding soil. That lead to mention of the other class of mushrooms, the wood decomposers or saprophytic fungi, à la Chicken and Hen-of-the-Woods, and other species like Honey Fungus, living tree colonizers.

 Wait. Strike that. Not Honey Fungus but rather Armillaria. And not Hen and Chicken-o-the-woods but rather Grifola Frondosa and Laetiporus. “Things can be misconstrued in different parts of the world when things are called different names in different languages, so it’s always best to use the scientific or Latin rather than common name,” advised Mr. Blowers. Ram’s Head aka Sheep’s Head is also found in Europe and China and known in Asian markets by its Japanese name Maitake or Dancing Mushroom. Nice. Just take a look at Anthony’s Facebook page I Love Wild Mushrooms and you’ll find folks having fun with fungi the world over. Click on the link now and catch a shot of Bioluminiscent Ghost Mushrooms aglow at night from Wollondilly, Australia, soon replaced by some other widely exotic flora. Fare Freakin’ Dinkum.

Someone asked the important question regarding making sure to leave a portion of a good find behind, if only to encourage future bounty. In Anthony’s opinion it’s not necessary, opening up the discussion of what a mushroom actually is: “A mushroom is an organism, and the organism is usually not usually visible to the eye — most of it is underground.” The mushroom is actually the fruiting body of the underground entity – the flower that disperses many of their spores by the time their half-grown. That’s why it doesn’t hurt to take all the mushrooms in one spot. “It’s like picking apples off a tree. Picking mushrooms and even carrying them around in baskets helps their proliferation.”  I call Anthony our “local” keeper of knowledge, but his appeal extended to attendees Carrie and Ken, who came from as far as West Virginia, as well as Nicole and Fern who traveled down from the Traverse City area. 

Other findings included a huge flush of Boletes, Mica Cap, and the discovery and discussion of Aminita Muscaria and its hallucinogenic properties. When people hear “Mushrooms” they often think of the psychoactive properties of Psilocybin, and I especially like Anthony’s listening in that area, or lack thereof, a bit indifferent to mushrooms’ psychoactive side. Although we did discuss the FDA tested medicinal aspects of Turkey Tail and touched on the incredible Siberian folklore around Christmas, pine, drying mushrooms on trees, and stories of Reindeer notoriously digging through the snow to eat them, as well as the association between mushrooms and flying reindeer, a topic of this interesting  NPR online write-up. It seems a local variety of Aminita was used by the indigenous people of Siberia as an intoxicant and entheogen — a psychoactive substance that induces alterations in perception, mood, consciousness, cognition, or behavior for the purposes of engendering spiritual development in sacred contexts. 

 Regarding sacred contexts, we even took part in a brief Sit or formal meditation prior to The Wild Forest to Table Dinner, both proving delicious. Treats like pickled Grifola frondosa and Laetiporus sulphureus lead to a wild salad with mushroom medley vinaigrette — including Agaricus augustus, Boletus atkinsonii, Craterellus fallax, Grifola frondosa, and ramps — on to the entree Shrimp Fettuccine Alfredo with a Black Trumpet Cream Sauce, graced with Ramp Porcini Butter Garlic Bread. And all sweetly crescendoed with Candy Cap Ice Cream for dessert. Here’s what Fern had to say about the Day: "We so enjoyed our time at The Higher Haven. It was like life was back to normal, with a Sense of Serenity. Paul was an awesome host, the Wild Forest to Table Dinner was phenomenal, and Anthony did an excellent job all day. Thank you!” You’re welcome and all are welcome to return to our Thanksgiving + Christmas Holiday Foraging Days + Dinners with Anthony, now in the works!

And Now It's September,

And Now It's September,

Sedum is a Perennial Plant with thick, succulent leaves, fleshy stems, and clusters of pink-red Star-Shaped Flowers.

Sedum is a Perennial Plant with thick, succulent leaves, fleshy stems, and clusters of pink-red Star-Shaped Flowers.

The heading of this post And Now It’s September, (creative comma included), shares a title with verses crafted by Pennsylvania poet Barbara Crooker, and was published in a recent issue of Spillway. Every Monday morning, Ted Kooser, United States Poet Laureate from 2004-2006, e-mails me a poem on behalf of American Life in Poetry, prompted by past visits to Chicago’s Poetry Foundation . “We’re entering a new kind of autumn,” said Mr. Kooser’s introduction . “This one arrives after months & months when everything was new & strange, and offered very little but bad news for the future. All spring and summer parents wondered, can a country have autumn without buses full of students laughing together? Although the fortunes of people can’t be predicted, nature can be. Or some of it can.”

True. Mankind’s current wild card status considered, in today’s world, even the future of the earth itself as well as the processes that manage the phenomena of the material world appear disturbingly uncertain. “But out in the perennial beds, there’s one last blast of color”, reads a line below, bringing to mind the bright star flowers of our garden’s Sedum or “Stonecrop”, beloved by pollinators everywhere and abuzz with bee-kind. We’ll continue finding beauty and taking comfort in the forces of the natural world at this weekend’s Full-Day Fall Foraging Workshop with Anthony Michael Blowers. Although all seats for the Wild Forest to Table Dinner have been filled, workshop attendance remains open and dorm room beds available. For those hoping to tap the benefits of mindfulness and establish a regular meditation practice, there’s our Wednesday (Get Over The) Hump Day Noon Meditation sit, our semi-monthly, three-hour Meditation and Mindfulness 101 class for those hoping to learn a little more, and our upcoming Fall 2020 Noble Silence Meditation Retreat the first weekend in October, a deep quarterly dive into the practice pool. Remember, the effort we make on retreat is always self-determined, and just experiencing our simplified, beautified environment is good for whatever ails ya, as we all pass patiently from summer through Autumn’s gate.

And Now It’s September,

and the garden diminishes: cucumber leaves rumpled
and rusty, zucchini felled by borers, tomatoes sparse
on the vines. But out in the perennial beds, there’s one last
blast of color: ignitions of goldenrod, flamboyant 
asters, spiraling mums, all those flashy spikes waving
in the wind, conducting summer’s final notes.
The ornamental grasses have gone to seed, haloed
in the last light. Nights grow chilly, but the days
are still warm; I wear the sun like a shawl on my neck
and arms. Hundreds of blackbirds ribbon in, settle
in the trees, so many black leaves, then, just as suddenly,
they’re gone. This is autumn’s great Departure Gate,
and everyone, boarding passes in hand, waits
patiently in a long, long line.