Fungal Foray

The fruits of the forest floor are ancient organisms capable of so many different things. They're the re-generators of life that occasionally take one too. You have to know what you're picking and I wouldn't advise eating these. The Fly Agaric is the hallucinogen of choice for reindeer and their herders, the latter drink it through the formers urine, once all the really bad stuff has been filtered out. It was these chaps, not magic, that got Santa's reindeer flying.

I was musing on this, and other assorted nonsense, while walking through forestry near Aberfoyle. Maybe I'd got it wrong? That quasi mystical feeling that now is the time. For the past few years I've never failed, but now, whilst finding plenty of pretty specimens, my true quarry was proving elusive. Too early in the year, too late?

Then suddenly an urge to look in a different direction...

Bingo! These porcini were in pretty good nick, one almost perfect... and both smelt amazing.

Rounding a corner I bagged my next lot.

Chanterelles this time, managed to pick nearly two kilos before the hunter became the hunted. A haze of midges descended and started eating me alive. I scarpered.

Stopped off in 'The Aberfoyle Butcher' for a couple of popseye steaks from local cows. Terroir and all that. Back home sautéed some garlic to golden then threw in the sliced porcini.

After five minutes added a little stock and cream, then cooked for five minutes more. The steaks were cooked and kept warm while the pan was deglazed with a little light red wine

Then put the porcini into the same pan with a little Parmesan. Heated it all through. Served up with 'healthy' oven chips... slice and par boil potatoes for 3 minutes. Drain and lay on a baking tray to steam dry for ten minutes. Rub with a tablespoon of olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt and pop into a hot oven, 210 C, for about 15 - 20 minutes. Works every time. In my excitement I forgot to photograph the wine. It was a Loire gamay from The Wine Society. £7.95 and delicious. Click here for details.

The porcini sauce was incredible and would work well with turbot too. An utterly beguiling aroma that grew from within for half an hour after eating. The scents of the forest floor just kept coming back through my nasal passages. I know that sounds weird, but believe me, it was very enjoyable and, I'm pretty certain, a hell of a lot nicer than reindeer piss.

Click here for The Aberfoyle Butcher website.

Funky Porcini

Some mornings are just right. It's hard to explain, almost mumbo jumbo, a feeling of warmth, sensing the unattainable will soon be attained.

'How come I was walking that way? Why did I stop when I did? What made me go in?'.

I envy people who know exactly what they want, I rarely do. A vague notion, perhaps, an idea of something, maybe, even my cravings are often unfocused. Often that is, but not always...

The early bird catches the worm, and if so inclined, the unblemished porcini too. Good job, saved me getting up.

Sauted the Italian way. Garlic and a handful of chopped parsley fried in oil first, porcini in next, more parsley at the end. Salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon. Served on toast. My hearts desire... for this morning at least.

MacCallums

71 Holdsworth Street,

Glasgow

G3 8ED

0141 204 4456

[Mainly fish but sometimes they do mushrooms too]

The Prelude

One of the great things about Glasgow is how quickly you can get out of it. After weeks in the rainy city, I was seized by a Wordsworthian urge to flee man's inhumanity and seek solace in a rural idyll. That's not true, but if asked I'd have come up with any old crap save the truth. It wasn't aeolian visitations I was after, but something far more elusive, and secrecy was paramount. In the car-park it seemed man's indelible mark was inescapable. Vandals.

Mr Pikey seems positively cheeky from this description. Perhaps they should add, " I like eating children's fingers too". Which they probably do. 'Edgy Woodland Walks', much more fun than 'Educational' ones. Still, there was a helpful map and guide.

Wow, that's a long way in a little time, well if the kids can do it, so can I.

Heading off, and just around the corner from the place where me and a pal once found 4 kg of fresh porcini, I spot a good omen.

Too far gone but smelling gorgeous and a sign they're about. Lucky slugs. Rounding the bend I get excited in anticipation, then...

Aaargh, what was the best porcini spot ever now looks like a WW1 battle ground. Bloody foresters. Nothing to do but carry on.

Although I've not been here for a few years I still recognise bits and spy a copse that always seemed perfect for mushrooms, yet I've never found anything edible there. I almost walked past this time too, while wondering what the squishy yellow things were...

wait a minute, bright egg yolk yellow squishy things...

Bingo! Lucky too because I've never seen chanterelles this submerged before. There were loads and they absolutely reeked of, as they should, apricot. Loaded up, I head off. Some time later I spy this. There are quite a few in this picture. See if you can spot them.

I pick a few more and leave the rest. Cycle of life and all that.

A little further on a sign suggests that I'm just two miles from the car-park. At this rate it'll take a lot more than two hours to cover ten miles. Oh well, it's a lovely day for a walk.

My feet are getting rather sore by the time another sign lets me know there's still some way to go. Kids must have more stamina these days.

I spot another porcini, what a cracker this would have been in it's prime.

It's possible to cut out the good stuff and dry it on racks. Perfect for cooking. I used to, before rashly admitting what the wriggly white things that fell out on to the kitchen worktop were. So that's not allowed anymore.

By now I'm no longer convinced walking is all it's cracked up to be. My feet are blistered and I'm starving. Eventually, after considerably more time than advertised, I'm back at the car-park. This time I take a closer look at the sign.

What a plonker. Anyway, back home my booty was washed and laid out to dry. As I mentioned, they have a pronounced apricot aroma. So my plan is to make a risotto and get a bottle of either viognier or albarino to drink with it. They're the only two wines I can think of with apricot tendencies, but other suggestions gratefully received. If I haven't made some dreadful 'Horse Whispering author'-like mistake, the results will get posted later this weekend.

Click here to find out what happened to the author of 'The Horse Whisperer'... as opposed to 'The Horsemushroom Whisperer'. Sorry, couldn't resist.