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.

If you go down to the woods today...

"I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now". Bob Dylan

There are many things I know now I wish I'd known before. There's the practical stuff, there's the more esoteric stuff and then there's the other stuff.

For example, why didn't anyone tell me about the pulling power of cute dogs? Archie's a regular visitor these days and strolling through Kelvingrove Park it's amazing to watch women visibly melt as they lay eyes on the wee scamp. Also, rather incredibly, I'm suddenly transformed into an attractive proposition for a conversation. This would have been priceless information to a young chap.

A spot of blossom photography helped cement my new fey image. But just before turning my toes inwards and humming a Belle and Sebastian song something happened.

Irresistible wild garlic popping it's wiggy head above the ground and a mystery oniony thing that smelt very oniony. Phew, that was close. I could be wrong, but as far as I know, fey men don't leap fences, rip up plants and stuff them into doggy poop bags. 

Things happen in city centre parks that would make a pirate blush, so everything got a good wash.

One thing I was told when younger was to never eat certain things. Toadstools, berries and anything Mrs Evans offered us. But I'm more reckless now and despite failing to identify the strange oniony things, I ate one. It was delicious. Like the sweetest spring onion imaginable. After another three I decided to wait a bit and see if anything bad happened. In the meantime I chopped the wild garlic and stuffed some lamb (delicious) and made a pesto (tasty but sludgy). All very intense flavours so a tricky wine match. Then I had a brain wave. Summer = Cider. And it worked rather well. Proper stuff from Herefordshire. You can buy this in Sainsbury's and Morrisons. It's cheaper in Morrisons.

Since I'm writing this it's fair to say, so far at least, four strange oniony things isn't enough to kill, but my stomach was upset the next day. Coincidence? Or possibly the toxic heavy metal legacy of Glasgow's industrial past.

"Funny the things you think of, a long time after you should". WS