Mushroom Hunting and Mushroom Cooking

It was on a morning at the end of October that we ventured for our first mushroom-hunting expedition on the mountains of the Peloponnese. The weather had previously been pleasantly warm and sunny, but that day dawned cloaked in misty veils that did not dissolve over time.

We headed towards the Monastery of Makelaria, following a road that snaked around slopes covered in deciduous trees all dressed in the earth-coloured shades of autumn. Occasionally, a pale ray of sun would penetrate the somberness of the sky, bestowing a tender caress on the forest which, in turn, would quiver in unexpected delight and allow the leaves, tickled by the light, to burst into yellow laughter.

We took the last turn into a dirt-covered trail and left the cars, continuing our exploration on foot. The forest was so dense that its bronze and amber hues seemed to diffuse everything, even our clothes, vision, and hearts. There was intense energy emanating from the woodland, dissolving our presence into the golden mist and forging a bond with the landscape that felt sensual, even voluptuous. A drizzle tiptoed on the foliage, the fallen leaves rustled under our footsteps, and aromas were exuded like invisible potions casting a spell. Embraced in this grace and loveliness, I felt emotional, my eyes filled with tears and I found it challenging to concentrate in our search – a quest that proved to be quite demanding and, yet, unexpectedly, exhilarating. Undoubtedly, the ambience would have been utterly magical, was it not for our excited shouts every time we thought we had discovered a treasure among the leaves.

Like every “hunting” activity, mushroom-seeking is a game of patience. One may walk for hours – neck crouched forward, eyes nailed on the ground – oblivious to the surroundings while trying to discover the well-camouflaged fungi, and, yet, have no luck at all. We had a taste of such a challenge, since the area in which we were searching was flat, smooth, and easily accessible, hence it had already been heavily foraged by the locals who have found in mushroom-hunting a new fun obsession. On top of that, the esculent mushrooms are relatively few compared to the full range of forest fungi, and one needs to be extremely careful to avoid the poisonous ones. Even when accompanied by an expert – as we did – one should discard every sample that arouses a question-mark.

What we found in abundance was armillaria mellea: a kind of mushroom growing next to the roots or trunks of the trees in beautiful colonies of yellow-brownish tones. They are not poisonous, but they are not very nutritious or tasty either, and a process must be followed before cooking them, so they are never picked up – which explains why we located so many of them. There was a lot of excitement when we thought we identified our first Boletus (which is the Latin word for the king of the mushrooms: the porcini), but we were quickly disappointed when we cut it and saw that its stem changed colour, indicating that it was actually poisonous. We located with little difficulty numerous examples of the Boletus family with a red stem (called “satan”), and other mushrooms that are known as “panthers”, both kinds deadly dangerous, while our paths were also dotted with a few amanita muscaria, which, with their speckled red cups are affectionately called “Smurf’s mushrooms” and are hallucinatory (and perilous, of course). Several false alarms later, and after having covered a large area – admittedly, my eyes focused more on the surrounding beauty rather than the ground – we were rewarded with a few porcini and a couple of amanitas caesareas – another delicious mushroom that we had the good fortune to taste in the evening.

Armillaria mellea

Another cluster of armillaria mellea

An example of a poisonous Boletus (the changed, dark colours in the body and stem are indicative)

The poisonous “panther”

The poisonous “Satan” with the reddish stem.

Finally! Our first porcini! Look how well-camouflaged it is!

And our first amanitas caesareas!

A close-up on our amanitas caesareas.

Although this was not my first time in a forest, I had never felt such gratitude before. The slow pace of our expedition forced me to observe details of which I would have otherwise gotten only a glimpse. Nature offered its wealth abundantly, be it in the form of mushrooms, wild greens, birds, or prey, highlighting that there is no way one could exit a forest empty-handed. The experience was nourishing both literally and spiritually and allowed me to peek into the lives of our ancestors, maybe even before we became farmers. I do not envy a way of living which we have outgrown long ago – after all, I am a city person and enjoy the creativity that flourishes only within an urban environment. However, this harvesting process helped me feel more fulfilled and complete as if a piece of me was missing for I had never fully connected with a part of my ancestry.

At the end of our mushroom hunting.

We left the forest carrying the goodies in our baskets and headed to the restaurant of our friend – and exquisite chef – Giorgos Manikas where, with his guidance and the help of his wife, Maria, we turned our mushrooms into a delectable meal. Below are the indicative recipes of the four courses we prepared, all based on a few fresh ingredients, rare wild mushrooms, some art, and a lot of passion, ingenuity, and inspiration.

An entrée based on Lactarius deliciosus:

We had not picked any Lactarius deliciosus (otherwise known in Greek as “kokkinomanites”), but Giorgos shared a few he had found on his previous mushroom expedition so that we would have the chance to taste another delicious (as its name implies) product of the land.

Lactarius deliciosus

We brushed the Lactarius clean with a towel (one is not supposed to wash the wild mushrooms), roughly chopped them, and put them in a pan with olive oil and thin-sliced onion. We allowed them to cook for a while; then sprinkled with a bit of red pepper, salt and pepper and, when it was almost done, we added the juice of two oranges (or we could have used white wine instead). The sauce thickened, and the dish was ready to be devoured while we started preparing the rest of the courses.

Chopping the mushrooms

Sauté the mushrooms and thinly-sliced onions in a pan with olive oil.

Et voilà! Ready!

Hunter’s chicken

This is an Italian recipe based on the story that if a hunter goes to the forest but finds no prey, he can always pick mushrooms and return home to cook them with chicken, rabbit, or whatever else is available. The woods will never let you go hungry!

In the pan, we sauté in olive oil the chicken cut in cubes. Once the meat has turned lightly golden on the outside, we add chopped garlic to aromatise it, and after a while, plenty of thinly-sliced onions. We proceed with: thinly-sliced red and green bell peppers, roughly chopped porcini and amanitas caesareas, white wine, diced tomato, salt and pepper – added in that order. Leave until the sauce thickens and place on a large plate. Garnish with rice or pasta.

Chicken, garlic, onions, and peppers in the pan.

Adding the porcini, roughly chopped.

Plus the caesareas.

Ready!

Vegetarian version:

Sauté in the pan thinly sliced red and green pepper, roughly chopped porcini, onion (no garlic in this recipe), then add boiled pasta and mix with sour cream. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. A non-vegetarian version includes a bit of bacon sautéed in the beginning along with the vegetables to add more flavour to this dish. Finish with plenty of shredded cheese on top (preferably salty).

All the vegetables in the pan.

Ready!

Kritharoto (a version of risotto but with orzo instead of rice):

In a pan sauté the chopped porcini, thinly-sliced white onion, and orzo using a bit of more olive oil compared to the previous recipes. Keep on mixing until the orzo starts getting golden, even brown at the edges; then, add hot water, salt and pepper. Let it boil for a while and once the liquid has been absorbed, add more hot water and let it simmer until the orzo is fully cooked.

Chopping the porcini.

Sauté the mushrooms and orzo in the pan.

Simmering in water

Ready!

Bon Appetit!

A huge “thank you” to the chef Giorgos Manikas who took us on mushroom-hunting and, then, hosted us with his wife, Maria, in their restaurant “To Spiti tis Marios” teaching us the secrets of mushroom cooking!

Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou

If you find encouragement, comfort, and beauty in my writing or you learn through my adventures something new about our world, I invite you to support my labour of love by becoming a sustaining patron through a recurring monthly donation that can be as low as 1 USD per month up to the cost of a light lunch. Please visit my Patreon page for more details. If you are already supporting my work, thank you from the bottom of my heart!