a guide to mushroom foraging

how to spot, classify and harvest edible fungi in the wild.

Do you aspire to be the kind of person who forages for their food? Who can grab a bucket, head into the wild and return a few hours later with the makings of a hearty meal? Mushrooms are a crowdpleaser for both meat-eaters and vegos alike, and they’re sprouting all around us, if you know where to look (and when to walk away). First things first, it’s essential to embrace the mushroom hunter’s mantra: if in doubt, go without. While there are plenty of tasty morsels ready to be cooked in an omelette or boiled in a stew, not all fungi are edible, and in fact, some could land you in the emergency room. The basic rule is if you’re not 100 per cent sure of a mushroom’s ID, you should give it a miss rather than take a risk. After all, some yummy species have toxic doppelgängers that even confuse the most experienced mycologists. The main mushrooming season begins in autumn with an increase in rain – in Australia, that’s usually between late February and May. Though they don’t show their faces till then, fungi exist underground for the rest of the year. They busy themselves maintaining a healthy, productive ecosystem via a network of connective fibres known as mycelia. These threads provide structure to the soil and – in a heartwarming display of support – help nearby plants access water and essential nutrients. They also protect tree roots from underground nasties and act as an important food source for soil-dwelling invertebrates.

Fungi come in many different colours, sizes and shapes: conical, flat, bumpy, inverted or even looking like a classic bell. But proper identification requires careful scrutiny of a number of elements – not just what they look like, but also their texture and consistency (smooth, spongy, crumbly?), whether they mark when handled, their location and spacing (are they growing solo or in a cluster?) and even their smell. Mushrooms also tend to evolve as they go from baby fungi to proper grown-ups, so it’s worth looking for young or very old examples nearby for comparison. In the absence of a microscope, spore prints are another technique used to aid in identification. When you’ve brought your mushie home, cut off the stem as close to the cap as you can, then pop the head gills-down on a piece of blank white or black paper. Check back in a few hours to see the mark left by the powdery spores (aka reproductive bits) dropped from the mushroom’s undercarriage. With a little research, the colour can give you a hint as to the species you’ve discovered. Once you start thinking about fungi you’ll notice them sprouting everywhere, from gardens and nature strips to tree trunks and mounds of soil. For a real-deal foraging excursion, you’re best off hitting local parks, forests or nature trails and searching close to the trees (though make sure you’re checking the rules first – it’s illegal to remove plants and fungi from many public places, and the laws change from state to state). Mushroom-picking tours run across the country, which will not only make sure you’re keeping things legal, but also increase your chances of nabbing something safe and edible.

So, what else should a newbie forager keep in mind? For one, don’t expect to come home with piles of mushrooms – sometimes you won’t find any at all. If you do discover a cluster, make sure to only take what you plan to use; a mesh bag or woven basket for stowing your harvest will allow spores to fall through and repopulate the forest floor. Bring a knife to cut your mushrooms from the ground rather than tugging them up by the all-important roots. And while you’re at it, don’t forget to appreciate the environment in which they’re growing – after all, foraging is all about connecting with nature and understanding exactly where your grub comes from.

Saffron milk cap

In stews, in pasta, on toast or in soups: the popular saffron milk cap – also known as the pine mushroom – finds its way into many dishes. (It’s also one of the few species that’s safe to eat raw.) But it starts its life in moist, well-drained soils under conifers and in woodlands, especially after rain, from late February to April. The aromatic mushie can be recognised by its reddy-orange hue and cap that curves upwards as it matures. A heads up: despite its sturdy appearance, it pays to be gentle with the meaty fellow, as bruises will turn green and a milky orange sap will leak from deeper wounds. (Although, this is a handy mode of identification when you’re foraging in the forest.)

Lawyer's wig

The lawyer’s wig may sound noble, but its reality is actually kind of gruesome. The mushroom, commonly found in bare soil, grass and mulch, first sprouts out of the ground as a long, white cylinder, before its cap opens out, covered in brown-tipped, shaggy scales. At this point, the mushie is edible – but you’ve got to get in quick. You see, it’s a member of the ‘ink cap’ family: a group of fungi that distribute their spores by essentially liquefying themselves. Within days, the cap and gills dissolve into a black, slimy goo that’s spread about on wind currents and by visiting bugs. This ‘autodigestion’ happens even quicker after picking, so if you decide to nosh on some, you’d best get them in a pan quick smart.

wood blewit

Known for its versatility and rich, earthy flavour, the winter-loving wood blewit is rather popular in the culinary world. (As long as it’s well cooked, that is – eating it raw will result in some very unpleasant stomach issues.) Though it epitomises the classic ‘mushroom’ shape with its smooth cap and thick, stocky stem, the colour of its gills will usually give it away: a soft lilac or lavender. It’s rare to find a blewit getting about on its own – they’re a rather social species as far as mushrooms go – but it’s worth keeping an eye out under pine trees and eucalypts, as well as the leaf litter from deciduous trees. If in doubt, tap into your sense of smell: the wood blewit’s natural aroma is often described as ‘sweet’ and ‘orange-juicy’.

death cap

The name of this humble fungus is not to be taken lightly: ingesting just one mushroom is enough to kill a healthy adult by bringing down the liver, kidneys and central nervous system. In fact, death caps are the cause of most mushroom-related mortality since ancient times. Though they’re not native to Australia, they’re increasingly common, especially near oak trees in Canberra and Melbourne in warm, wet autumn weather. So, what should you be on the lookout for? Firstly, a pale green to yellow cap, with distinctive white gills and stem. It will usually have a white skirt and volva, as well, and be slightly slippery or sticky. Soaking, cooking, peeling and drying won’t lessen the poison’s ferocity, so if in doubt, just walk right on by.

slippery jack

Beginner mushroom hunters would do well to set their sights on the hard-to-confuse slippery jack. It doesn’t have too many doppelgängers, is found almost exclusively near pine trees, and has a few distinctive characteristics: a white skirt around the stem; fluffy, yellow, spore-spreading pores instead of gills; and a light brown, relatively flat cap. The cap is the reason for its descriptive name – when dry it appears shiny, but when moist (which is often, as these mushrooms tend to pop up after autumn rain) it becomes glutinous and slick. Should you stumble across a slippery jack, you’re best off trimming its cap and porous underbelly before frying it up or drying it out to create a meaty mushroom stock.

fly agaric

It may look like a fairytale toadstool come to life, but the rosy red, spotted fly agaric is in fact a cousin of the dangerous death cap. Admittedly, it is a wee bit magical – in some parts of the world it’s consumed for its hallucinogenic properties – but that’s certainly not recommended given it can also cause nausea, twitching and stomach cramps. (Some believe the fly agaric inspired Santa Claus’s suit and flying helpers, as both Siberian shamans and reindeer were known to enjoy the odd shroom-induced trip.) The name is a reference to the European tradition of using the mushroom to lure and poison flies. Often growing in clusters, like a playground for fairies and elves, the fungi can grow up to 20 centimetres wide.