The earnest plea of Dr. Badham for this neglected--rather, I may say,
spurned--spontaneous harvest of fungi is well worth emphasizing in
our pages; affording, as it does, a most suggestive commentary on the
universal popular ignorance, so far as America is concerned, of the
economic value of this perennial offering of Nature, which abounds in
such luxuriance throughout our continent.
[Sidenote: =The spurned harvest=]
"I have this autumn myself," he writes, "witnessed whole
hundred-weights of rich, wholesome diet rotting under trees; woods
teeming with food, and not one hand to gather it; and this, perhaps, in
the midst of a potato-blight, poverty, and all manner of privations,
and public prayers against imminent famine.
[Sidenote: =The comprehensive fungus=]
"I have, indeed, grieved, when I have reflected on the straitened
condition of the lower classes this year, to see pounds innumerable of
extempore beefsteaks growing on our oaks in the shape of _Fistulina
hepatica_; _Agaricus fusipes_, to pickle, in clusters under them;
Puff-balls, which some of our friends have not inaptly compared
to sweetbreads for delicacy of their unassisted flavor; Hydna, as
good as oysters, which they somewhat resemble in taste; _Agaricus
deliciosus_, reminding us of tender lamb kidneys; the beautiful
yellow Chantarelle, that _kalon kaigothon_ of diet, growing by the
bushel, and no basket but our own to pick up a few specimens on our
way; the sweet, nutty-flavored Boletus, in vain calling himself
'_edulis_' where there was none to believe him; the dainty Orcella;
the _Agaricus heterophyllus_, which tastes like a crawfish when
grilled; the _Agaricus ruber_, and _Agaricus virescens_, to cook in
any way and equally good in all--these are the most conspicuous of the
_trouvailles_."
[Sidenote: =A reliable crop=]
His remarks applied to Great Britain, and reflected a popular disdain
of fungi, which presented a marked contrast to the appreciation of the
mushroom of the Continent, where the fungus had become the much-sought
_bonne bouche_ of the epicure, and the welcome reliance of the peasant
poor, to whom it afforded a perfect substitute for the desideratum of
animal food commonly denied them by their circumstances.
[Sidenote: =The fungus specialist=]
This plea of Dr. Badham's is even more pointedly pertinent to the
America of the present than it was for his own country at the time;
for while, in Great Britain, the mycophagist epicure was even then
occasionally to be met with, in America to-day this particular
gastronomic specialist is locally conspicuous, or rather notorious,
from his very rarity, being popularly considered as a sort of
dangerous crank, who should be conservatively muzzled by the
authorities, for the safety of himself as well as the public.
[Sidenote: =Mycophagist missionaries=]
In the absence of any adequate popular guide to this great food
resource, it may be hoped that this present work may afford not merely
an occasional dainty entrée to the menu of the luxurious epicure,
but--a far more important consideration--a means of bringing the fungus
within reach of the less-favored masses as a never-failing dependence
for their daily food.
Dr. Badham's further pertinent remarks are worth quoting, in this
connection, with emphasis: "As soon as the reader is initiated in this
class of dainties he will, I am persuaded, lose no time in making
the discovery known to the poor of his neighborhood; while in so
doing he will render an important service to the country at large,
by instructing the indigent and ignorant in the choice of an ample,
wholesome, and excellent article, which they may convert into money or
consume at their own tables, when properly prepared, throughout the
winter."
[Sidenote: =A suggestive statement=]
Concerning the lavish plenitude of the fungus as a food resource, a
passage from a letter of the late Dr. Curtis, of North Carolina, to the
Rev. J. M. Berkeley, of England, many years ago, is most significant:
"Of this latter quality I had become so well convinced that, during
our late war, I sometimes averred--and I doubt if there was much, if
any, exaggeration in the assertion--that in some parts of the country
I could maintain a regiment of soldiers five months in the year upon
mushrooms alone." A statement which doubtless will appear extravagant
to those who have been accustomed to consider the one common "mushroom"
as the only esculent among the fungi.
[Sidenote: =Nutritious properties=]
As already mentioned previously in my pages, the fungus affords a
perfect substitute, chemically and gastronomically, for animal food.
The analysis of its substance is almost identical with that of meat,
being especially rich in nitrogenous elements, while its flavor and
aroma and texture, as served for the table, occasionally so closely
imitate that of flesh food as to be actually deceptive. Even in its raw
state it would occasionally seem to suggest the same animal similarity.
As an illustration, I recall the following striking instance of
gastronomic discrimination in a carnivorous appetite, as exemplified in
a full-grown pet hawk which I had tethered near my country studio.
[Sidenote: =A discriminating hawk=]
One day, returning from a toadstool hunt, she observed me approaching
with a basketful of mushrooms. They were mostly of the fleshy Boleti
species. Supposing that I was bringing her food, she became very
demonstrative in her actions, eying me most eagerly, and uttering
that peculiar low squeal which seemed to emanate from the region of
her appetite. As she approached me, thinking to satisfy her that the
basket contained nothing suitable for hawk-food, I tossed her one of
the largest of the mushrooms, which she almost caught in mid-air in
her talons. Such was the strength of her clutch that the fungus was
scattered in fragments upon the ground, when what was my surprise
to observe the bird proceed from one fragment to another in a most
ravenous manner, exhibiting all those tactics habitual to the hawk with
live prey--the lowering and outspreading of the wings and tail against
the ground, the raising of the neck feathers, and the same defiant,
defensive mien which she had so often shown on previous occasions when
a mouse or a squirrel had been the object of her solicitude. Having
eaten the first fungus, I threw her another, which she devoured with
the same eagerness, and another, and another, until she had taken
five, and her crop was as large as a pint cup; after which she betook
herself quietly to her roost on the rail near by, evidently under the
supposition that she had broken her fast with a sumptuous meal of
rabbit or squirrel flesh.
[Sidenote: =Fish, flesh, and fowl=]
The _Agaricus ostreatus_ is known as the "vegetable oyster "--its
flavor in a stew quite closely simulating the flavor of the bivalve;
another fungus as the "beefsteak mushroom"--not without good reason;
the _Polyporus sulphureus_ distinctly suggests the flesh and flavor
of chicken; others, as we have seen, resemble kidneys and sweetbread;
while the _Agaricus ulmarius_ of the elm would seem entitled to its
popular name of "fish-mushroom," from the following incident related by
Palmer:
"I recently sent some elm-tree mushrooms to a family where the youngest
member is but twenty-one months of age. At breakfast-time she noticed
the strange dish, and her father gave her a small piece. 'More fish!
more fish!' was the instant response."
[Sidenote: =A boon to the vegetarian=]
Indeed, the vegetarian may humor his humane whim, and still enjoy
fish, flesh, and fowl at his table without a qualm of conscience in
a menu which, in aroma, quality, and flavor, might well deceive his
unconverted omnivorous brother, only at last to win his encomium
to the glory of the _multum in parvo_ fungus. The possibilities in
this direction are suggested in my appended hints for a menu for the
vegetarian.
In my previous pages I have made occasional reference to the more
simple methods of preparation of certain species of fungi for the
table, but have reserved extended reference to culinary treatment for
the present chapter.
[Sidenote: =Fungi in the kitchen=]
For the benefit of those of my readers who may desire to "humour
their delicate fancie" to the full, with the result of a more or less
complete disguise of the characteristic mushroom flavor through the
arts which are supposed to "assist nature," I append a selected list
of favorite recipes for such alleged appetizing sophistication of
the mushroom. Many of them will be found equally applicable to other
species than that for which they are nominally recommended, especially
if such species should possess the same general character as to
consistency.
The author confesses that he is not in thorough sympathy with the
general trend of these ingeniously contrived lures to dyspepsia,
whose contemplation may well awaken a sympathetic appreciation of that
antique philosophic epigram, "There are as many diseases as cooks"--the
discriminating impeachment of Seneca regarding the "_chef à la mode_."
[Sidenote: =De gustibus non est disputandum=]
But doubtless the author will be overwhelmingly overruled in his
hypercriticisms, and will remain one of a select discriminating
minority in continued genuine enjoyment of his _mushrooms_, while the
majority of his proselytes to mycophagy will in vain endeavor to detect
the mushroom flavor in the obliterating disguise concocted in the
kitchen or instigated by the mischievous "receipt-book."
Indeed, the prominence of the spice, clove, nutmeg, thyme, tarragon,
and pepper ingredient in most of these "favorite recipes," to say
nothing of the champagne, onion, garlic, lemon-juice, cayenne, anchovy,
etc., with which the delicately flavored mushrooms are so generally
sophisticated in these culinary preparations, would seem to warrant
our scepticism as to the value of the epicurean testimony as to the
"superior flavor," of the various "Champignons," "Chantarelles," etc.,
so confidently recommended. The juice of a lemon, or oil of lemon-peel,
will absolutely annihilate the peculiar characteristic "fungus" flavor
of the average mushroom. The true mushroom epicure, it would seem,
should value his _mousseron_ not as an absorbent vehicle for the
gastronomic conveyance of highly seasoned sauce or dressing, but for
the unique individual flavor which differentiates the fungus from other
kinds of food.
But we are all allowed to differ in matters of taste, and each must
decide for himself or herself what particular disguise is most
palatable.
The recipes which follow are from various sources, most of them
modifications based upon the earlier epicurean devices of Mrs. Hussey
and Dr. Badham, the pioneers of English mycophagy, and of Roques,
Persoon, Paulet, Cordier, and other noted European authorities. I
am indebted, also, to the works of M. C. Cook, Worthington Smith,
W. Robinson, and J. A. Palmer for occasional selections from their
recommended recipes.