Mushroom bonanza stems themisery of a brutal year
KHOMUTYNSI, UKRAINE — ValeryKravchuk, a seasoned mushroom hunter, pushed aside some dead leaves to reveal his prize: a beautiful blusher, so called because it turns pinkwhen pinched.
“Mushrooms are likemagnets for me,” he said. “I feel them.”
This fall, Ukrainians have been driving their cars down country roads, getting out and walking deep into the forest for the world’s most socially distanced pastime: mushroom hunting.
Byserendipity, the country had a bumper crop ofmushroomsin a yearwhen gathering them remains one of the fewactivities for thosewanting to get out of the house while avoiding other people.
Ukrainian biologists chalked up the bounty this fall toadrysummerfollowed by an unusually warm fall and late first frost, coming only at the end ofNovember.
“All the mushrooms which were supposed to grow starting in July had to fit into a month and a half this autumn,” said Zinaida Kosynska, amycologist and author of Ukrainian mushroom guidebooks.
“It’s been amazing,” said EmiliaKoleda, aprofessional mushroomhunterwho sells her finds on the shoulder of a highway outside Kyiv, the capital.
She stood beside seven buckets of boletus mushrooms, a late season delicacythatshesaidshescooped up during just a single forest excursion. Inpastyears, three bucketsmadefor a good day.
The mushroom bonanza has been a lucky break in a poor country, where mushrooms are a staple for some families, while others supple
ment their income by picking for the market.
Koleda said therewere no other possibilities to earn moneybecauseoflockdowns. With her income, shebought firewood for winter heating and everything her grandchildren needed for school.
“Mushrooms saved so many people this year,” she said. “Nature helped us through the quarantine.”
In Ukraine, a line of cars parkedonthe roadside in the middleofnowhereisatelltale sign that hunters are about, walking quietly among the trees, carrying small mushroom harvesting knives.
“It is my way to be in nature,” said Andriy Hrybovskyi, whose last name actually translates asmushroom, a sign of the activity’s deep roots in Ukraine.
He knows a few spots in a forest he can visit afterwork, to breathe fresh air and find dinner.
Knowledge of the sites in the forestwheremushrooms growis the currencyofmushroom hunters, both professional and amateur, and that knowledge is a closely guarded secret.
When asked for advice on locations, the etiquette for a polite Ukrainianmushroom
hunter is to describe some phony spots, so as not to appear rude, while in fact never revealing where the mushroomsreally are. Ukrainianswho have taken to tagging spots on Google maps are seen as spoilers of this tradition.
Many Ukrainian families appoint a designated taster, usually someone deeply versed in the various species who knows which to avoid. The taster will sample the harvest a day before everybody else, just in case. It is a grim tradition but necessary.
Viktoria Ganzha, fromPoltava in eastern Ukraine, who tastes for her family, hasbeen busy this year. She described the role as that of a sapper, the first to enter a minefield.
“I am the de-miner,” she said.
TheUkrainian government has reported an increase in poisonings this year, the downside of themushroom bounty. By mid-November, 289 people had been poisoned and 11 had died, the government said.
The authorities closely monitor another danger in Ukraine, radioactive mushrooms picked in the region surrounding Chernobyl.