Yellow foot chanterelles, also referred to as winter chanterelles My quads are burning, and my left knee is giving out from the climb. But with a season-defining harvest of Craterellus tubaeformis and Hydnum umbillicatum pressed close to my chest, I feel no pain. The yellow foot chanterelles and hedgehogs – freshly plucked in the alpine air and still cold to the touch – are pristine and unblemished, a gift from the well of autumn’s abundance. Encountering this ruggedly resilient patch, tens of thousands of dainty mushrooms flourishing on a mossy mountainside, is less a fin ..read more

Catastrophic flooding has ravaged Vermont – inundating the downtown of our charming capital and leaving my quaint little riverside village reeling from damage to homes, roadways, and infrastructure.  While the mighty Winooski has receded back within its banks, the river now churns with a dark, hazardous stew of runoff. Craters replete with toxic floodwaters block access to swimming holes and hiking trails. Where I used to go each evening to watch brown trout and fallfish rising to mayflies, I now witness log jams, truck tires and insulation floating menacingly down the raging waterway. W ..read more

I am climbing a steep logging road in the humid, wildfire smoke-tinged air, each sweaty step fueled by a single-minded sense of purpose. My mission: to check on the progress of my favorite early chanterelle patch, where I discovered a small but stunning flush of goldens around this same time last year.   I’ve got Cantharellus on my mind, but the landscape first presents Pleurotus, a diminutive cluster of anise-scented seashell shapes bursting from a dying birch. It’s not enough for a meal, but the oysters are a good confidence booster on this muggy late June afternoon. While June may be ..read more

The rainclouds have cleared and sunlight spills through the hardwood canopy, illuminating acres of verdant ramps. Biting into a raw ramp leaf, I am hit with a potent wild flavor that commands my attention and summons seasonal memories. Ramps are pungent and richly aromatic, offering a mouthwatering blend of herbal Allium bite and forest floor funk, with subtleties of flavor that vary with terroir. Cooking tames the sharper garlicky flavors and adds layers of complexity, with ramps responding beautifully to a quick sauté in olive oil at medium heat. Our favorite method is perhaps the most sim ..read more

On a soggy Green Mountain morning, I am following a mossy streambank under a mixed canopy of hemlock, ash and birch. My every sense is engaged as I scan the surrounding soil in a search of the peerless porcini. After multiple failed early season attempts, my timing is finally perfect. Kings are back in action, and I let the bloated old ‘flags’ – yellow-pored and squishy stemmed – guide me straight to the prime specimens, mycological royalty camouflaged beneath autumn leaves. The king bolete, being supremely edible, is alarmingly susceptible to insect infestation; there is always the moment of ..read more

Our family enters the forest to find a reinvigorated mycological landscape. Eight-year-old Eliana is mesmerized by a spiraling flush of dainty waxy caps, while three-year-old Noemi munches on trailside blackberries. Jenna is deep in focus photographing summer novelties like purple coral mushrooms and jelly babies, but I have only one thing on my mind: reaching my favorite local black trumpet spot, among the boulders and beech trees ahead. Eliana looks for black trumpets I rally the troops up a hillside holding a medley of striking green and red Russula species, before descending to cross a t ..read more

Golden chanterelles, classic summer wild mushrooms, have arrived early this year in Vermont. My rational mind tells me to wait until July, but instinct carries me up a rocky streambed toward an old patch. I am greeted by a sleek red fox that makes fleeting eye contact before leaping stealthily out of sight. Soon I arrive at a pair of hemlocks that have produced in past seasons, and the hunt is on. By mid-summer, chanterelles can be so colorful and substantial that they are visible from afar, illuminating the forest floor. Today, I have to crouch down and inspect the soil, scouring for any vis ..read more

A bounty of morels from a previous season! The weather – day after day of sparkling, blue skies and sun-soaked spring flowers – was undeniably spectacular. For a string of spectacular days, each evening found children splashing playfully in the river and brown trout rising explosively to flies. Everywhere I looked I saw people smiling, their relief palpable on the heels of another long and trying winter. I was so distracted by the sheer beauty of it all that I almost neglected to notice we were entering mid-May, morel primetime, and the forest floor had become heat-baked and desiccated. As th ..read more

I spot a single porcini and veer off-trail on impulse, following the narrow spine of a coniferous ridge along an undefined path blazed by deer. The landscape is steep and unforgiving, and the fungi dwindle as I hit higher and drier ground. Wild turkeys disperse into the trees as I reach the crest of the hill, feeling duped and sidetracked by the lone porcini. As I sit down on a stone to catch my breath, I see the forest from a new angle. Right in front of my face, but well concealed on the underside of a fallen tree, a toothy blob catches my eye. I spring up from the stone – back in the game ..read more

Beneath the beech trees, I am following a vein of black trumpets as it snakes up a craggy hillside. These mossy slopes – rocky loam interspersed with cliffs and boulders – are prime trumpet territory. As I navigate low-hanging branches, I pause to admire the rich duff that has formed a plush saddle at the base of two elephantine beech trunks. The organic matter here is so soft and deep, I fear I could fall through and sink straight into the mycological underworld.    Craterellus foetidus (left) and Craterellus fallax (right); Yellowfoot chanterelle in background (also in the Crater ..read more