The First Blush of Winter

How wonderful it is that, rather than feeling cold dread as Winter approaches, there is excitement and anticipation in the air— at least among California fungophiles. When it comes to mushrooms, the first rains of Winter mean abundance, not scarcity; exuberant life, not quiet dormancy.

In the East Bay hills where I live, the fruits of the forest are poking up through the duff everywhere you look. This year looks to be very good for the Amanitas, especially the coccora (Amanita lanei). The coccora is one of our most prized mushrooms, similar in many respects to the beloved Caesar's Amanita of Europe. The coccora has some very distinctive characteristics, including a thick, white universal veil, which eventually separates to form a thick patch of white on the cap and loose sac at the base of the stem (stipe). In addition, the edge of the cap always shows distinct striations, at every stage of development. It is in all respects a very handsome mushroom!

Unfortunately, it shares its genus with the two most deadly mushrooms found locally: Amanita phalloides (the “Death Cap”) and Amanita ocreata (the “Destroying Angel”) . The threat posed by accidentally eating these mushrooms is so grave that many otherwise brave mushroom collectors avoid the Amanitas altogether. No one should consider eating any mushroom in this genus until they have long experience with identifying the poisonous species, gained through careful study and consultation with experts (like David Mackler, below, pointing out the characteristics of A. phalloides in Claremont Canyon). The poison contained in these fungi dissolves the victim's liver, and is fatal unless it is treated immediately and aggressively. To learn more about these dangerous fungi, click here, and here. For a first-hand account by a survivor of Amanita poisoning, click here.

The Death Cap appears to be a recent introduction to California, possibly having hitched a ride with some cork oaks to Stanford University as late as the 1940s. Since it is associated with oaks (though not necessarily symbiotically), it may drive out other, native forest fungi— such as chanterelles. I know of at least one oak woodland where A. phalloides seems to have replaced the chanterelle in the last decade or so. Whenever I see Death Cap buttons, I smash them under my boots; a futile gesture, no doubt. Mycologist Anne Pringle of Harvard has led the study of this nasty shroom, sometimes using old mushroom guides as a way of triangulating on their historical distribution. You can read (or listen to) an account of her work here.

The boletes are also making themselves known, but not where I'm looking for them (as usual). My friend David Wilson sends me this photo of himself and Vicky Friedman in Mendocino this weekend, with some of their haul of king boletes, Boletus edulis. The photo came with the intimation of a dinner invitation. I'm still waiting...

Fairy Rings

Photo courtesy Clemson University - USDA Cooperative Extension Slide Series

Fairy rings are circles which appear in fields or woods, consisting of a ring of mushrooms, luxuriantly-green grass, dead grass, or all three in combination. Appearing as if by magic, fairy rings were long attributed to supernatural forces (see below). It wasn’t until 1792 that Shropshire doctor and amateur naturalist William Withering, developed a scientific explanation. Carefully trenching across the radius of several rings, the good doctor noticed that they were always associated with white, root-like masses, which he knew to be the spoor of mushrooms (Withering also discovered the first heart drug, Digitalis).

Fairy rings form as an individual fungus begins to grow outward from a central point, perhaps a successful spore. Some fairy rings are thought to be coenocytic, which means that the entire structure is composed of one giant cell, though it contains many many different nuclei. As the fungal hyphae expand throught the soil, they liberate nitrogen, which may cause a lush ring of green grass to grow. However, the grass in the interior of the ring may turn brown, as the fungus depletes nutrients. The mass of hyphae can also render the soil impermeable to water. Great efforts are devoted to killing fairy rings in sports fields and golf courses, usually without much success.

Fairy rings are referred to as either “tethered” or “free”. Because the hyphae of mycorrhizal fungi exist in a symbiotic relationsip with tree roots, any rings they form are “tethered” the host tree. The fairy rings found in lawns and fields, on the other hand, are formed by saprophytic fungi, which digest dead organic matter in the soil. These rings are “free” to spread where they will. Fifty or so fungi have been show to grow in a fairy ring pattern. The Scotch bonnet, or "fairy ring mushroom" (Marasmius oreades) is perhaps the most abundant and best-known, being found in lawns and parks world-wide. A fairy ring discovered in France has a diameter of 800 meters, and is thought to be over 700 years old.

Fairy Ring Folklore

Fairy rings are found worldwide, of course; and every culture seems to have come up with its own explanation for this curious phenomenon. The term itself reflects the old English belief that the rings are the work of “little people” (fairies, elves, pixies, et c.), dancing in the forest. The withered grass in the center of the ring was the dance floor, and the ring of mushrooms a place for spectators to sit. A variation on this theme sees fairy rings as magical portals into the fairies' underground world. Someone stepping into a fairy ring might be transported to another place or time. This notion became a commonplace of English fairytales, and oddly presages the astrophysical concept of a “wormhole”.

In Scandinavia, little people are also given credit for the rings, but elsewhere on the Continent, the phenomenon generally had darker interpretations. The German phrase Hexenringe ("witches' rings"), reflects the idea that the rings mark spots where a witches’ covens have gathered. In Holland it was said that they formed where the the Devil rested his milk churn on his nocturnal wanderings. In parts of Eastern Europe, the belief was that that dragons had rested in the rings, or that their breath had scorched the earth.

Fairy rings are still present in our modern, virtual mythological landscape. making appearances in the massively popular “massively multiplayer online role-playing games”, including Ultima Online and RuneScape.

The fairy ring images in this post are from watercolor paintings by the English artist Hester Margetson. They were used in a popular series of postcards published by Vivian Mansell, London, in the 1920s. If you are interested in purchasing prints or posters of these or other antique mushroom images, please contact the blogger!

Carnivorous Mushrooms?

Many different fungi are known to have antibacterial properties. Recent research has shown that some fungi also hunt and kill larger organisms, including nematodes. These worm-like creatures are amazingly abundant in the soil, in plants, and even other animals. Some have speculated that if all other (non-nematode) matter were to disappear, a ghostly outline of the world would remain, made of writhing nematodes. Some fungi have evolved structures to trap these creatures, including chemically-"sticky" knobs, snare-like loops, and predatory hyphae (fungal threads). It's thought that the nematophagous (nematode-eating) fungi attack their prey as a source of nitrogen, a precious, limiting nutrient in their environment. This video (by T. Loynachan of Iowa State University) shows some of these traps in action in unidentified soil fungi.

Oyster mushrooms (Pleurotus ostreatus) offer a dramatic example of nematophagous behavior, even though they are technically saprobes (dining primarily on dead or dying wood cellulose). The image below shows a nematode that has been paralyzed by the nematotoxin ostreatin, which is produced special structures on the hyphae of oyster mushrooms. Utilizing chemical signals, the hyphae of the fungus have located the mouth of the nematode, and have grown into its body to digest it.
The same kind of predatory hyphae seek out bacterial colonies, drawn by their chemical signatures. The fungal threads will penetrate a bacterial cluster at several points simultaneously, as seen in the image below. The fungus then dissolves and digests the bacteria. This type of behavior may have originally evolved for self-protection, but it clearly benefits the fungus nutritionally to consume its little guests. So, when you eat oyster mushrooms, you are eating higher on the food chain than you thought!

Oysters in Oakland?

Oyster mushrooms are always among the first fungi of the season to appear, and the among the most eagerly-anticipated. They are lovely to see, delicate white fans festooning the wood of a recently-deceased oak or alder, like like the wings of an angel air force helping the tree take flight into the next realm. Flights of fancy aside, they are abundant in the right conditions, and good to eat. They must be treated delicately, though, due to their subtle flavor and texture.


This week I found a terrific large patch of them growing on an old live oak in a canyon in the Oakland Hills, an couldn't resist taking a few home for dinner. My favorite way to eat oysters is in a stir-fry, so I made up a recipe using a few things that are around this time of year. I call it O2P2.

O2P2 (for four people)

Mise en place: A wok, or good big pan.
A cup of not-too-flavorful cooking oil (e.g., canola, safflower).
One large clump of oyster mushrooms, about the size of your head. Separate the individual "bracts", and cut them up if they are large. discard any older, woody-feeling stipes.
Four or more cloves of garlic, peeled.
A piece of fresh ginger, about the size of your thumb, peeled and sliced in rounds.
Some snow (edible pod) peas, about two big handfulls.
Some sweet green peas (frozen is fine), about two big handfulls.
Some fresh sea (diver) scallops, sliced thin (optional).
Some hot peppers (also optional). You can sub sliced red bell pepper for color, if you like.
A measure of oyster sauce, say a good 4 ounce glass-full.

First, get the rice started, whatever kind you prefer. Then boil some water, and blanch the snow peas very briefly. Take them out and run cold water over them, then set them aside. Toss the peas in the hot water and cook them appropriately depending on wether they are fresh or frozen, then set aside as well.

Heat up the oil in the wok to the proper temperature (hot, but not smoking), and toss in the garlic and ginger. If you are using hot peppers, add these too. Stir fry briefly until the garlic just begins to turn golden, then scoop everything out and put aside. if you are really hard-core, you can add the garlic and peppers back in a the end; otherwise you are done with this stuff.

Add the oyster mushrooms to the hot oil and stir fry gently, so as not to destroy them. This shouldn't take more than about two minutes. Toss in the scallops, give them a good "turn in the pan". Then add both kinds of peas. Heat through, and add the oyster sauce. Viola, dinner is ready. Serve with a crispy, chilled white wine. Why "O2P2"? Two kinds of "oysters", and two kinds of peas... If you make it with actual oysters instead of scallops, it's O3P2. The variations are endless...

After the Rains...

Welcome to After the Rains, a blog devoted to mushrooming in the San Francisco Bay Area and beyond. I'd like to use this space to share thoughts on mycology, foraging, mushroom cookery, and mushroom lore in general. Let me say right up front that I am a passionate amateur, not a mycologist. However, I strongly agree with the experts, who always recommend against the collecting and eating of wild mushrooms by non-experts. No images or other information on this blog should be used to positively identify fungi, either edible or poisonous. Many edible species have deadly or debilitating look-alikes, so please do not collect or eat wild mushrooms without having them identified by an expert. That said, I do believe that ignorance is the most dangerous thing in the woods, or elsewhere. Hopefully, this blog can be a touchstone for further learning and exploration.

It's a couple of weeks after the first rains of 2007, and the fungi are beginning to assert themselves after the long, dry summer. First out of the gate, as always, is the sulfur shelf (Laetiporus sulphureus – or L.gilbertsonii). The shelves came out a few weeks earlier than usual this year, and speculation was rife that global warming was the cause. Maybe, but it's been an unusual year all around. The acorn crop, for example, is the biggest I've seen in 15 years; the buckeye crop, too. This on the heels of a very dry winter. We'll have to consult the Old Farmer's Almanack (or maybe Al Gore) for the answer. Below is a short item I wrote on sulfur shelves for the Claremont Canyon Conservancy newsletter last fall:

The Sulfur Shelf, First Mushroom of the Season

The sulfur shelf is one of the most conspicuous mushrooms found in the East Bay Hills. Sulfur shelves begin to sprout from stumps and on older, weakened or burned trees, particularly eucalyptus, in early October before the fall rains have come. Typically, the mushrooms begin as small efflorescences, like bright yellow marshmallows. Given time, they may grow into huge multi-tiered clusters weighing twenty pounds or more.

Sulfur shelves (Laetiporus sulphureus – or L.gilbertsonii if they grow on eucalyptus or oak) are polypores, shelf-like fungi that have small pores on their undersides, rather than gills. Their most conspicuous feature is their bright yellow color (sometimes banded with orange); hence the name. This fungus takes advantage of the moisture and sugars from dead and dying trees, which is why they flourish when everything else is dry. Like many other fungi, they provide an invaluable service by helping to decompose wood, returning its valuable nutrients to the soil.


Sulfur shelves are also called “chicken of the woods” and considered edible and delectable by some mushroom enthusiasts. They are occasionally known cause gastric distress, however; particularly those growing on eucalyptus. Since many eucalyptus stumps in the region have been treated with herbicides, sulfur shelves from suspect areas should definitely be avoided. There are also some poisonous fungi (such as the Jack-o-lantern mushroom) that may resemble sulfur shelves to the uninitiated.

Last fall, several big, black stinkbugs took up residence on a large sulfur shelf growing on a stump near my house. They lived there happily for two months, eating the succulent fungus and lolling in the sun, in a luxurious beetle heaven. It reminded me of a story in Steinbeck’s Cannery Row, where Doc wonders if stink bugs are praying when they stick their hind ends in the air (as they often do). Now I think I know. They are praying, for a big, beautiful sulfur shelf to call home.