"There is but one way by which to determine the edibility of a
species. If it looks and smells inviting, and its species cannot
be determined, taste a very small piece. Do not swallow it. Note
the effect on the tongue and mouth. But many species, delicious
when cooked, are not inviting raw. Cook a small piece; do not
season it. Taste again; if agreeable eat it (unless it is an
Amanita). After several hours, no unpleasant effect arising,
cook a larger piece, and increase the quantity until fully
satisfied as to its qualities. Never vary from this system, no
matter how much tempted. No possible danger can arise from
adhering firmly to it."
 |
Deer Truffle |
Those Before Me
Although I disagree with that last sentence, I am inspired by
the sheer volume of Captain Charles McIlvaine’s mycophagic
experimentation (nearly 800 species!), especially when
considering the relative paucity of information back then
regarding the possible dangers of this undertaking. The modern
“toadstool tester” can now thankfully peruse the pages of such
books as David Arora’s Mushrooms Demystified and note the
various accumulative (Hygrocybe punicea concentrates cadmium
within its tissues), synergistic (Coprinus and alcohol shouldn’t
be mixed), or latent (serious symptoms of Cortinarius poisoning
can delay up to 20 days) dangers that may have been little-known
a century ago. But perhaps there are still those of us who,
while deeply respecting the powers of Kingdom Fungi, simply wish
to replenish a body of knowledge lost in part by the past
ravages of cultural displacement.
Some assert that experimenting with mushrooms is unnecessary,
for, “our ancestors have already provided for us, through trial
and error, a comprehensive list” from which we can glean. While
I agree that we should take the time to learn about wild
organisms before stuffing them into our mouths, the available
body of knowledge is far from complete, if not unavailable. I am
hard-pressed to find such information on mushrooms eaten by past
tribes in the whole of North America. I feel a certain
excitement when, upon looking up the edibility of a freshly
keyed-out specimen, I’m offered the succinct disappointment,
“Unknown,” which is oft-tempered by that fickle admonition, “Do
not experiment.” Woe cometh the day when I do not heed such
judgment as a charge to step forth and claim my right—No, my
privilege!--to push the horizons of current wisdom surrounding
the species at hand (and soon at mouth!). The miraculous gifts
inherent within dozens, if not hundreds, of otherwise edible (in
my experience) and quite common—to the experienced eye--species
are being inadvertently snubbed by condemnations such as: too
slimy; rank odor; acrid or bitter taste; not recommended; not
edible due to its resemblance to species of unknown edibility;
too tough or gelatinous in texture; of no consequence due to
small size. Many of these misconceptions can be remedied thusly:
pounding of species with tough flesh to render them more
palatable; cooking and pickling can dispel many acrid or bitter
tastes, especially within the genera of Lactarius, Agaricus and
Russula; infusing tough, woody species with hot water in order
to ingest nutrients, essences and flavors as a tea; be sure of
your identification; and, lastly, my favorite—expanding
acceptance of diverse foodstuffs through the purging of food
prejudices.
 |
Red-Belted Conk |
"With regard to tastes, it is always well to remember that
they are individual; otherwise moths would not eat cloth."
A Word of Caution
I suppose a disclaimer of some sort would be prudent regarding
the theme of this article.
Although I respectfully consider the monumental amount of
experience and wisdom that the readership of this journal
possesses regarding the dangers of experimenting with wild
edibles in general, I sternly warn everyone who may consider
experimental mycophagy: Eating mushrooms of unknown edibility
can result in illness or death. There is no room for a cavalier
attitude nor for intermittent attention to detail. I have
studied a myriad of warnings and case histories on this subject
from a plethora of authorities. I consider myself extremely
fortunate to have never experienced deleterious effects—thus
far. There is that infinitesimal, lingering concern in the far
corner of my psyche regarding possible long-term effects of this
research. But as with mountain climbing, para-sailing, or
stepping outside (even inside) one’s dwelling, there is an
inherent risk involved with every activity. Study. Be careful.
 |
A variety of edibles |
Evaluate your reasons for doing what you do. I am a
Naturalist by vocation and hobby—I am driven to acquire primary
experiences and then share them. I am not, however, predisposed
to acquiescing when someone attempts to corral my actions based
upon their prejudices or murky, nebulous claims perpetuated by
fear. I am not advocating that you go out and pick the mushrooms
I mention in this article and eat them. I am merely
supplementing the existing literature with my knowledge. I
invoke the words of Roy Chapman Andrews, "Each one of us is a
trustee of the past; we have the task of living up to our
heritage – and adding something to it."
 |
Oregon Varnished Conk |
Methods
What follows is the procedure I use when determining the
edibility of a species of mushroom, whether it is generally
regarded as inedible, hallucinogenic, or unknown. I do not
necessarily endorse your use of this method—I do not know what
will work and be safe for you. This method is constantly
undergoing improvement, so waiting periods can change from
species to species for me and can depend upon the time of day I
start the process. When in doubt—I go without (for a while
longer, anyway)!
1. I am absolutely confident of the specimen’s identity—doubt
can manifest itself physically. Recently I keyed out a specimen
of Tubaria furfuracea, a mushroom generally regarded as
dangerous to eat due to its relation to potentially deadly genus
Galerina and similar appearance to a myriad of other poisonous
LBM’s. When it came time to eat it, I had doubts. So I put it in
the refrigerator and "slept on it." The next morning I went into
the field and collected another couple specimens and keyed them
out to T. furfuracea again, examining the spores, which eased my
doubt and I consumed it in the manner described below. Other
than the acrid-burnt taste, no harm was experienced (cooking
dispels most of the displeasing flavor, however).
2. I consider what the field guides have to say about the
species in question.
3. I eat a dime-sized piece of raw cap on an empty stomach. I
choose to test mushrooms "in the raw" because I think if any
adverse reactions are to occur, this will expedite matters. I’d
rather know sooner than later.
4. I wait about 12 hours.
5. I eat half of the remaining raw cap.
6. I wait about 8 hours.
7. I eat rest of raw cap and stem.
8. I wait about 8 hours.
9. I eat one whole, cooked mushroom on an empty stomach.
10. If I’m better for the experience, then I’ll eat the mushroom
once I encounter it again and give thanks to the aborigines and
the McIlvaines of the world who have done this for us with
hundreds of other species!
At any point during this procedure that I sense ill effects,
I would discontinue the experiment on that species. To date,
I’ve never noticeably suffered from any of these trials.
|
