Chanterelles

We are in the middle of a heatwave. Today it is 34 C plus high humidity. A killer combination. This morning I spent a couple of hours in the garden doing more weeding. With the rain we’ve been having, the weeds are growing profusely and are taking over. My garden is not as weed-free as I would like. The heat, the humidity and the damn mosquitoes—what a combination to make life miserable. I didn’t spray myself but I wore a mosquito net, which makes your face even hotter. Even though, those critters keep buzzing around you looking for a way to get you. Anything close to your skin like a sweat drained shirt they find and their stingers are long enough to poke into your skin.

After two hours of sweating and pulling weeds I felt exhausted and had to quit. My face was red and my shirt wet from perspiring. Water never tasted so good and the cold shower felt like having died and gone to heaven. Better than those 72 virgins the suicide bombers expect to meet after they blow themselves to smithereens. (Sorry, couldn’t help myself! Stupid beliefs like that just confirm that a majority of people on this planet are morons. Good riddens!)

Before I went into the house I still managed to pick the first beans of the season. This is the time of season where we don’t know what to eat first. We have Kohlrabi, we have Kale, we have Swiss Chard. All those wonderful fresh vegetables.

Yesterday I went searching for mushrooms. I was after Chanterelles. We used to go to a place about 30 years ago, but then we sold our cottage and built one in Ontario, where we found new spots with mushrooms. But that is nearly three hours away. Too far to drive. So yesterday I went back to this place from 30 years ago. It takes me 45 minutes to get there from our house. I found it again, even though the area has undergone drastic changes in those 30 years. Many old conifers have been cut down to make way for younger trees, which meant many wonderful mushroom producing spots are gone. The fewer spots the more pressure they get from mushroom hunters. The road into the forest wasn’t any better than I remembered. It might even have been worse than 30 years ago. It took me 14 minutes to driver 3 km. My truck jumped constantly like a boat on high waves. I am surprised I didn’t get seasick.

I was lucky to find and pick about 2/3of an ice-cream pail full. Plenty mushrooms for my wife and me. We ate some last night. What a culinary treat. You can’t get them in any restaurant I know of. Not here in Winnipeg. I bet if you find them it would be in a place that charges exuberant prices and you wouldn’t get many mushrooms in a meal. Not Chanterelles.

Searching for mushrooms or blueberries is not for anyone who doesn’t enjoy it. In fact, you have to love it. I do. You can’t be bothered by the bugs, the heat, the humidity or even the cold. I love the forest but the forest doesn’t love me. As soon as I enter the forest I feel a pressure building up in my neck. It’s like a vice. It’s my old bones and the arthritis. I’ve had problems with my neck ever since I injured it 1979. My head also feels the pressure. The forest is telling me to get the hell out, but I’m as stubborn as a mule. The forest or Mother Nature will have to bring out much bigger guns to discourage me.

When you find the mushrooms it is such an exhilarating feeling. That orange/yellow color on the forest floor is a wonderful sight. Now, you don’t pull them out. You have to cut the stem below ground and leave the rest for more mushrooms to grow. Unfortunately, they don’t always come out nice and clean, but that’s okay.

I also managed to find a nice bowl of blueberries, but there were not many there. It may still be too early.

The forest did finally get to me after 4 hours of searching and picking. The humidity, the heat, and the bugs won out, but I was happy. I had enough mushrooms for a couple of good meals. As mentioned, we ate some yesterday, fried with onions and accompanied by left over boiled potatoes with gravy. And to celebrate we drank a glass of aged Chardonnay. A feast! Not even 72 virgins can top that. Oops, there I go again!

Tonight we’ll eat headcheese with plenty of raw onions. My wife made it a couple of days ago from pork hocks. Another culinary feast! Can it get any better?