Today in the forest! Day of the milkman

Today - in the forest! Day of the milkman. I didn't get to the forest for two weeks. Yes, and heat / dryness - what you will find there. But there were showers, the heat subsided, mid-August in the yard, a weekday Thursday - there were fewer people. When, if not now.

The neglected, neglected, unfinished garden looks reproachfully at the back. But it's always there, even kill yourself. No, into the woods, into the woods!

It can't be! Shouldn't! Mid-August, showers passed for several days, the heat subsided, there were few people. And where are the mushrooms? No.

That is, they are. But this is not August, not a forest, not mushrooms. So. Something for naturalist notes.

The chanterelles, which were plentiful back in June, did not disappear, they only grew up - why should they: they do not rot, they do not worm.

Unfortunate russulas. Solitary, skinny, eaten. They embarrass themselves. As if they know that I will not put them in the basket under any circumstances.

In June-July, he was indignant that there were not even Valuevs and similar mushroom extras. Valui looked out, thick / slimy. But unusually rare. And they have no place in our basket. But the mere fact that even valui are a rarity is surprising and alarming. There is no other crowd at all.

Summer mushrooms disappeared without a trace, autumn and does not smell. The only reminder of them is the only colony of some of the scales encountered.

Aspen mushrooms this year did not see at all. Boletus boletus were single in July - now there is not a single one. In previous sorties, a few pieces of whites were still found. Now one is an old man. Such people can only be respectfully avoided.

Already at the exit from the forest, in a spruce forest, a family of butterflies, obviously summer ones, came across. Small and eaten by slugs. Slugs, not embarrassed, continued to scrape them right before our eyes.

There's something wrong with the mushrooms. For the third season in a row. So you can imagine how their mycelium somewhere in the soil froze / froze / hid, fell into anabiosis or lethargy. If they are still alive at all. They do not want, they cannot grow and give out fruiting bodies. Whether this is a local or a general reaction to climatic quirks - who knows. But it's troubling...

I took my soul a little on red-brown mushrooms (milkweed, spurge, smooth ...). I have known him for a long time, I met regularly. But I learned that he is from pickling. And from them at our house it was customary to collect exclusively beloved blackies. Only recently I went deep and found out that the mushroom, although with milky juice, is of a completely universal purpose - at least eat it raw. And at the same time - a handsome man: fleshy, tight-tight, never wormy. And this hat, slightly velor, beautiful burgundy tones - something in the aspect of the old Flemish painting.

It is believed that the milkweed is a piece mushroom, it does not happen in mass and you can’t pick up a lot of it. And today I regularly came across, and even two or three in one place (about the fact that mushrooms grow in families, I have already begun to forget for three years - chanterelles just remind me).

In general, in a half-empty basket there are overgrown chanterelles, a handful of butter and a dozen meaty milkers. At the same time, finally, try these milkers.

I also took a bite of it raw. Yes, despite the milk, it is completely without causticity / bitterness, a pleasant dryish mealy texture, neutral taste. I did not catch anything herring-fishy in taste or smell. Just a gentle and pleasant mushroom aroma.

For testing, I fried it in the simplest way: sunflower oil, onions, salt and pepper.

Here I love mushrooms

 which do not darken when fried, do not soften, do not emit liquids, do not shrink. Thick, crispy, dry. My version.

Was it worth it to wander into the forest when there is no end to the garden?

Still worth it! Even with that baffling lack of mushrooms. The forest is above my experiences: he saw something wrong. Wonderful, soothing. Full of plants and animals: walk, breathe, admire. Do not touch.

The aspect of flowers in clearings, clearings and forest edges, by the way, of a lilac spectrum close to me: geraniums, meadow cornflowers, corostavnik, the remains of bluebells, Ivan da Marya.

Peace of mind. And the fewer mushrooms, the less kitchen fuss with them later.