......mycophobia

Yogis,

Mycophobia. The fear of mushrooms. I am pretty sure I have had a touch of this for most of my life.

Unlike the beautiful mushroom booths at today’s farmer’s markets, growing up I only remember one basic type of mushroom that would try to sneak into my food. The memory is of them being a nondescript grayish brown and slimy. In a gravy. Sliced onto pizza. The consistency creepy in my mouth and rare that they made it passed my tongue and down my throat. I disliked mushrooms and couldn’t understand them.

Being advised not to touch them.  Knocking them over if they grew with that poof that sometimes erupts from who knows where. And somehow learning never, never ever pick and eat them. Some might be ok, but others able to strike you down with a quick and painful death. There are those that can literally change your mind while in fairy tales the mushrooms never played a good role. And looking like that, how can they be a friend?

As we sleep they push up through the soil from a dark unknown place below, some reaching quite remarkable sizes. Others in shapes that remind you of …….oh my.  Then a few days or even hours later they vanish. How can we possibly have a chance to get to know them? The mysterious mushroom.

Over these last couple years however, the mushrooms around me have been waving to get my attention. As a nature lover I decided it is finally time to introduce myself and pay more attention. What I have discovered is fascinating.

A mushroom is the spore bearing fruit of the up to 5 million different forms of fungi that live beneath our feet. Paul Stammets, a mycologist, was a guest on a Joe Rogan podcast and explains how we, as well as all animals, evolved from fungi and carry some of the same DNA. His mission is to bring fungi and mushrooms to the forefront of research as potential cures for disease, mental illness and even climate change.

I decided to take a mushroom walk to get better acquainted. As Phoebe and I strolled I sent my attention to the ground and within a half hour I easily saw 20 different types. Some tiny while others huge. Browns, grays, yellow, red and even purple. Smooth ones, frilly ones, tall and short. Standing alone or gathered in family groups. Each unique.

In this new journey I began recognizing an edible type named ‘Chicken of the Woods’ on my way to the creek. A beauty of various golds and oranges she grows on fallen trees. I investigated further and found ideas for cooking. I brought my bag, harvested a few, chopped them and sauteed with olive oil, garlic and thyme. Now I haven’t eaten chicken in 30 years, but I do believe it does indeed taste like chicken……although doesn’t everything?  Quite yummy.

I realize now that mushrooms are not to be feared but do deserve our deep respect. She has much to teach us.

I think my mycophobia may have been conquered.

Bowing to the mushroom,
SARAH