We had signed up for a mushroom foray weeks ago, but due to dry, hot weather, the mushrooms refused to show their faces. Finally, we got a call this week that the honey mushrooms were out and our foray was rescheduled for Saturday.

But before we could go on our foray, we took the dogs for a walk in the morning before it got too hot. We took the short route to the pond along the road. It was nice because from our street out to the main road, the road is closed due to major road construction. This morning walk was probably the only good thing about the road being closed, as we have to detour quite a long way out of our way to get to town. I happened to glance over and saw something on a tree by the side of the road. A huge group ofmushrooms! But what kind? Rick got excited and thought it was a Hen-in-the-Woods; very choicely edible!

It was in perfect condition to eat (not too old) but we wanted to make sure of what it was before we took it home with us. After delving into our numerous mushroom books, we found it was not a Hen-in-the-Woods as we had thought, but a Chicken-of-the-Woods or Chicken Mushroom; also highly recommended for eating, although there were instances where it had caused gastric discomfort, but only when growing on certain kinds of wood. [Note: the name “chicken” mushroom because it has the texture and flavor of eating a chicken.] It had no poisonous look-alikes like some mushrooms do, and all the books said you could not confuse it with anything else. We were confident that we were making the right choice.

Rick went back with his knife and we harvested it. The thorny bush protecting it did not want to give it up. I have a scratch on my back that is over five inches long that I got while trying to hold the branches aside for him. What some people won’t do for wild mushrooms!

Look how gorgeous it is! Over two pounds of edible mushrooms!

Rick started searching online for Chicken Mushroom recipes and we decided to make a risotto with some of it. The rest of the mushrooms were cleaned and washed, then vacuum sealed and frozen.

First we chopped the mushrooms, then lightly sautèd them in a little butter and set it aside. They had a lot of fragrance, but in a good way. We nibbled on a few to make sure we were going to like the taste. YUM, no problems there—they was delicious!

Next, I started the risotto. I use generous amounts of Vermouth when I’m in charge—just call me Julia!

When the risotto was more than halfway done, I added the sautèd mushroom pieces. I didn’t add them sooner because I didn’t want the flavor of the mushrooms to overpower the dish.

mmmm ... looking good!

Nothing left now but to eat it. Bon Appétit!

I know what is uppermost in all of your minds right now. Are Rick and Lynne alright? Are they still alive after eating wild mushrooms? Well, I’m typing this, aren’t I? No gastric complaints, no hallucinations; just fond memories of a wonderfully flavorful risotto.

Stay tuned for Part two of Adventures in Mushrooming: The Foray coming tomorrow.

Living on the wild side here in New Jersey.

[Note: do not eat any mushroom you are unsure of and take a few classes in identification before you start becoming fungally obsessed.]

The calendar says one thing; the weather says another. Bottom line: autumn is now a “myth only” here on the East Coast. Record high temps and scant rainfall have made a mecca out of the Eastern U.S for those who thought us a grey-rain-soaked part of the country. What’s next? Will those Californians that have taken over Colorado soon move Eastward? Gads! The thought is enough to make me cringe in my bed. Mother Nature is being particularly cruel and not waving her magic wand at all. Dry, hot, and sticky would just about sum up our weather of late.

Unlike most folks in Colorado, we don’t have an in-ground sprinkler system here in NJ. Nor do any of our neighbors. They rely on the stuff that falls from the sky called rain to water their lawns. Since moving here one year and a half ago, we’ve only pulled out our hose with attached watering device only a handful of times. Right now our grass is crispy. I think that might be okay since it’s at the end of its life cycle for the year. But then again, maybe not.

The leaves are changing but not in the same exuberant way that they did last year. They turn color, then drop off. Poor things. My neighbor came home the day after last to find Mr. Bear lying smack-dab in the middle of her driveway, panting like a giant, black dog. She felt so sorry for him that she told her husband she wanted to buy a kiddie pool and fill it up with water so he could slake his thirst. Her husband didn’t agree. He visited our yard too that day, but the only reason I know this was by finding a large pile of poo that was decidedly not from my dogs. Sigh. Who says bears do it in the woods? This bear prefers my grass.

I think we might be in for some cooler days and maybe even some rain this week. One thing I know is that you can’t predict or change the weather. If I could, I surely would. Maybe I have jinxed the whole weather system by moving East last year. I certainly hope not. I don’t really buy into the blaming all our weather woes on global warming either. We’ve only begun to measure the weather since we could, over the past few centuries or so. How do we know what transpired before? We don’t; not really. Anyway, global warming is too deep a subject for me tonight, and I didn’t really mean to jump off that particular cliff tonight.

We did some mushroom foray-ing today which was great fun. More to follow!

An oddball kind of berry in the forest. Do you feel like you’re being watched?

Taken from the canoe last weekend on Monksville Reservoir.

This weekend I decided that my cherry tomato plants on the deck had truly outdone themselves all summer long and were deserved of a rest. The poor things were still bearing fruit, but the leaves had long since given up due to cool nighttime temperatures. It was time.

Last week I had harvested a large amount, and this week there was yet again another bowlful waiting to be picked. My Roma tomatoes out in the garden had finally kicked into gear (once the chippies and squirrels left the green fruit on long enough to ripen!) and they were added to the stash. Before I left them too long, I decided to just go ahead and make a tomato sauce wth them.

I first chopped the cherry tomatoes in half; the Romas into chunks.

My large 4-cup measuring glass runneth over!

After sautéing some onion and garlic in olive oil, in went the tomatoes and some fresh thyme from the garden.

After cooking for about half an hour the tomatoes have released their juice and are free of their skin. Perfect!

Time to run the mixture through the food mill to get rid of the skins and most of the tiny seeds.

Et voilà!—a lovely thick sauce ready to become the base for ... something. From 5+ cups of chopped tomatoes I got about 2.75 cups of sauce.

Maybe this one: Tagliatella with Bacon Sauce; or Rigatoni with Tomatoes and Vodka. Or perhaps just simply to top some of the delicious fresh ravioli that we can get locally. Yum, I’m making myself hungry. Won’t you join me for dinner?

Note: We opted for the Tagliatella with Bacon Sauce, but used penne instead of the tagliatella. We always use Canadian bacon as the “lean, non-smoked bacon” it calls for in the recipe. It was delicious!