I am a fun gal. Fungal. Get it?

The last section of Pollan’s book The Omnivore’s Dilemma caused a peculiar thing in our household. First, let me say this: I. Hate. Mushrooms. I have tried to like them. I have eaten them raw, cooked, chopped up and disguised in other foods, etc. No can do!

However, Pollan’s description of going mushroom hunting ignited something with my little heart. I felt a desperate need to forage for fungus. So, at the end of last summer when the days started getting cooler, Sam and I grabbed a couple canvas bags and drove east to the Curtis-Asahael trail in the Cascade range. As we walked along the path, we discovered many different varieties of mushrooms. We carefully loaded up our bags and brought them home where a friend helped us identify them.

Sam taking a photo of some crazy mushrooms on Asahael-Curtis.

Photo by Beth Hamburg

I was convinced we would have a feast that night. I would fire up the grill, invite friends, and make delicious mushroom dishes that even I couldn’t resist. This didn’t exactly happen. Almost every single mushroom Sam and I brought back, with the exception of a badly bruised Chanterelle, was a variety of Russula which causes bad things to happen. Since then, I have spent time at mushroom exhibitions in Seattle and have purchased a couple mushroom identification books. I have thought to myself, “Man, I bet it’s cool to be a mycologist.” But I still hate mushrooms.

I think there’s something not quite right with me.