Eugenia Keegan

The final delight after an exhilarating morning of mushroom hunting is the meal that follows. Late afternoon was time to clean the bounty. By the time I arrived at the Calvets for dinner Jean-Roger and darling daughter Constance had cleaned our haul of craterellus (never to young to learn). Marie, with the assistance of son Hugo whipped up an omelette that tasted like no other.

The haul cleaned and prepped for the evening meal:

Constance relaxing after an afternoon of mushroom cleaning:

Hugo (on the eve of his 12th birthday) preparing the omelette:

Craterellus in the pan sizzling to perfection:

Preparing dinner is a family affair:

My first foraged meal:

What an unexpected joy to find something that is so much fun and edible too. My time has been soaked up with reading and the investigation of all things mushroom (I am now a member of the Oregon Mycological Society!).

I was soon dining chez Calvet and yammering on and on about mushrooms when Jean-Roger asked if I might like to head back to the forest the following day. I jumped out of my seat with youthful glee. It turns out (this really should not have come as a surprise) that Marie spent many weekends hunting mushrooms and truffles (sadly those forests have been completely destroyed by greedy hunters) when a child. The outings were lead by her grandfather (still alive and kicking but too old to ‘shroom) and her uncle, Jean-Marc. Jean-Roger made a quick call to Jean-Marc and the rendez-vous was set.

I could hardly sleep that night and was up early and waiting. We headed out in a different direction than the earlier expedition. The drive was a bit shorter. Finally we pulled over, grabbed our baskets and headed over pastures and into the forest. It was a very different day, cloudy, foggy and cool, but again the wind was quiet.

JM and JR made a quick sweep of the pasture floor.

Minutes later we were deep into the forest. JM whispered an “oh la la”, brushed aside a duff of leaves and exposed a beautiful outcropping of yellow craterellus the baby cousin to the chanterelle. Like a lens coming into focus it became clear that the forest was carpeted in these beauties.

We were home in time for lunch with an absolute cache.

The morning yielded such lovelies as the rose des pres or rose de Paris:

The pied de mouton

The pied bleu:

The saint michel:

The cariolette which is dried and enjoyed over the winter:

A smiling Jean-Marc after a successful morning of hunting and teaching the new enthusiast:

The weather has taken a turn here and winter has arrived. Although it is not cold out it is wet and windy. Really a day to sit by the fire but that is not my day. First, I don’t have a fireplace, but more importantly friends from Oregon are here today and we will be enjoying a leisurely French Friday lunch. Knowing that the afternoon will be very quiet (euphemism for nap) I thought I should get some work done early.

Hunting for mushrooms is serious fall endeavor for the southern French. Families spend weekends in the mountains gathering champignon and picnicking in the woods. And as the saying goes, “When in Rome….”.

Friends Carrie and Marcel had had a successful day hunting and gathering the week prior and as we had consumed the final catch in our pumpkin soup it was time to fill the cupboards.

We made an early start. The day could not have been more beautiful. The sky was a crystalline blue with one or two fluffy clouds. The wind was still sleeping off yesterday’s hangover. Almost two hours later we arrived at the most beautiful side of a mountain with the babbling brook and the forest floor sporting a copper and gold carpet of leaves.

It is amazing as you first look about and see just the forest and then slowly the magic presents itself.

Carrie packed a delicious lunch enjoyed after a full morning of gathering. We brought along a frying pan and olive oil for an added lunchtime treat.

We were joined on this outing by the great interns this harvest at Domaine des Enfants, Davide from Sardinia (yes, great coincidence since David and I were just there. Learned more about the treasured old vines of the island).

And Pascal from Switzerland.

The ‘shrooming bug has also bit Marcel and Carrie. As we drove the longer scenic route home we made many quick roadside stops when we spotted those little caps winking at us from the side of the road. And indeed, we were not alone in the hunt. This was a typical “look” as we drove homeward.

Final stop was at a small roadside cafe where we quenched our thirst and watched the sun slipping behind the mountains.