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August Foraging

“It’s hot, it’s dry. No fun outdoors;
No fungi, flowers, foliage, fruit
For us to eat where Nature stores
Wild food. The month is destitute.”

Now, novice, look about you. Woodland floors
May hide the first autumnal mushroom loot,
The best, small, firm, fresh growth from latent spores
Beneath these giant leaves of Burdock Root.

To uproot Burdock, we can shrewdly charge
A fee, for no one wants it on his land.
Good starchy fare before roots get too large:
Scrubbed and split and simmered, you understand.

Onward to fungus. Some don’t need much damp,
Like Chicken of the Woods. Orange-yellow tiers
We’ll slice from tree trunks to enrich our tramp,
But leave the core to grow where it adheres.

Dear dimples! I delight in Penny Buns
(Porcini in the kitchen, forest bread),
Though shunning bogus Bitter Boletes, ones
With duller cap, dark stems, and nut-brown net.

White Giant Puffballs look like dozing sheep,
Soft-skinned, enormous orbs that weigh down bags.
Avoid the thick tan Earthballs in the heap:
You’ll skip their silly gastrointestinal gags.

About the Death Cap we might see, recall
Its picture:  olive top, white gills, a ring
Around the stem, fat globe at base.  Don’t fall
For doubtful bites that risk a fatal fling.

Rotting logs raise Oyster Mushroom clumps;
Sweet Fairy Champignons from circles peer;
Tall stately Parasols have centered bumps;
Oak Moss, a lichen, stays around all year.

The treasured Summer Truffles tarry now
Below bare ground where they have killed the grass;
Don’t dig, but take a dog whose nose knows how
To swiftly find and mine each blue-black mass.

Sea Buckthorn bears an orange-red superfood
With more nutrition than organic sherries
Often in commercial cauldrons brewed
Of currant, elder, Mirabelle Plum Cherries,

And more ripe berries found in August, too.
Angelica collected in a hurry,
Seeds patiently preserved, will furnish true
Flamboyant flavor to a foraged curry.

Brown kelps, the ruddy Dulse, and Gutweed greens
Are best when weather’s warm on a rocky shore.
Use scissors; leave the holdfast. Rinsing means
Six times—then locate crab dens to explore.

This speaker disclaims liability
For causing any unforeseen ordeals,
But promises the forager-to-be
Excursions making legendary meals.

__Go out to hunt and gather on repeated hikes:
__There touch and smell and taste to savor earth’s appeal;
__Beware of peril from food’s poison lookalikes;
__You’ll grow, observant rover through the seasons, real.

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Margaret Coats lives in California.  She holds a Ph.D. in English and American Literature and Language from Harvard University.  She has retired from a career of teaching literature, languages, and writing that included considerable wrk in homeschooling for her own family and others.

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28 Responses

  1. Laura

    Margaret, this poem brought back fond memories of my time in San Francisco, where at the Ferry Building, there was a merchant who specialized in fungi. It was always astonished at the variety, but never got the nerve to try anything more than the common button or shitake mushrooms!

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Laura, I appreciate your jumping right into this foraging trip! There are eight edible varieties of fungi here if we count Oak Moss (the lichen) and the Summer Truffles underground. Please avoid the three I warn against, but I had to let you know about dangerous Death Caps because they often appear in August and September. I’m sure the merchant in the Ferry Building would not have sold them, but I would surely stay away from any mushroom of olive or yellow-green color.

      Reply
  2. Roy E. Peterson

    You must be living in a place in California within easy driving distance of these wonderful sounding delectables. I am a mushroom lover myself, but few are to be found out here in West Texas. I thoroughly enjoyed the foraging excursion with the details of identification along with how and where to find these treats. I have long thought the truffles were only found in France and nearby European countries with the dogs playing the key role in sniffing them out. You spread some exquisite alliteration throughout this well-devised poem. You have encouraged me to consider sending in one of my horticulture poems, the first being on cactus. I will think about it.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      I’m in the foothills with easy access to a nature trail, and not far from woodland. But I can forage for edible wildflowers along roadsides and for nuts from decorative street trees in town. I’d suggest you do an online search about foraging in your area. You might find photo information guides, or experienced foragers identifying local mushrooms and how to find them. Best season is autumn, so you have time to prepare by learning which are good and which not–and maybe join a group excursion. The more valuable truffles are indeed European, and the smell identifies the place for dogs or pigs. I’m glad you enjoyed my poem, and I will look forward to a horticultural one by you. Prickly pear blossoms can be made into a dessert jelly!

      Reply
  3. Warren Bonham

    Expertly wrought. I’ve never been a mushroom fan since I was always told the ones found in the wild were, without exception, instantly fatal. I may branch out and at least sample the ones that I now see for sale at my local Whole Foods. They seem to have a wide variety. I’m guessing they’ve sorted through which ones are non-lethal, and it’s generally a lot less work (unless I do the shopping at noon on a Sunday) to hunt for mushrooms there. I really enjoyed this one and, as always, learned a great deal!

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Thanks for your appreciation, Warren! It is easier to hunt for mushrooms at a grocery, and I’d recommend an Asian store, if there is one near you, for greater variety and lower cost. No wild mushroom will kill you instantly, but there are many that can cause sickness, or merely have an unpleasant taste. The Death Cap I mentioned in the poem is, I believe, the most toxic of all, with half a one enough to kill a susceptible person, and hospitals have no remedy for it. But it is easy to avoid illness from wild food by developing knowledge, and remaining averse to risk taking!

      Reply
  4. Joshua C. Frank

    We’re getting a lot of mushrooms where I am too… I’m on the lookout for them as well, but for a very different reason: so my dog doesn’t eat them! Perhaps it’s just the dog owner’s perspective, but I just can’t see risking one’s life for some gourmet mushrooms. I knew a couple in France who ate some wild mushrooms they thought were safe and both got very sick the next day… it made me really glad I didn’t eat any!

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      It is wise, Josh, not to let your dog eat things that might cause illness. Or to eat such things yourself! My instructive tone in the poem is meant to say foragers need to know what they’re doing. While I wouldn’t imagine gourmet tastes motivate you, I know you’d love to live off-grid and independent from civilization as much as you can. Thus I’ll suggest you might like learning to forage and developing an additional resource (less regulated than fishing and hunting) to someday help others cope with supply chain breakdown. Go for the foliage, flowers, fruits and nuts instead of fungi, get a book, find someone local who’s in the know. Thanks for reading and responding!

      Reply
  5. Joseph Eldredge

    Lovely poem, thank you! I love the trochaic variations in the last line of the third stanza. The remarkable herbal knowledge becomes a pleasing music throughout this poem.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Glad you like it, Joseph! The line you mention had fun with a change of emphasis, instructing the novice forager not to eat burdock root raw. It’s called gobo in Japanese, and makes some delicious dishes in vegetarian cuisine everybody can enjoy. In England, though, the plant can be an unwelcome pest.

      Reply
  6. Brian A. Yapko

    This is a delightful poem, Margaret, which reminds me of some of those old botany books from the 17th Century that will appear now and then on the Antiques Roadshow. Yours, of course, is contemporary in time and place and, from the contented tone, suggests great joy in the crafting. I have never once foraged for mushrooms and, like Josh, would be afraid to make a toxic mistake in the picking. As it is, here in Florida we have had abundant rain and the strangest mushrooms are cropping up everywhere, from plain little stringy mushrooms to a frightening fungus called “Dead Man’s Fingers.” There’s a happiness to this poem that is beneath the speaker’s instructive voice. The love of nature that you demonstrate in your poems is palpable.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Brian, thank you for finding contentment and, indeed, happiness in the poem. It swells out in the final stanza of longer lines, where I call it feeling “real.” Foraging is like an Easter egg hunt for an older child, who will see that egg-yellow color of Chicken in the Woods and know it is food for him, though others may not see it at all. He uses his eyes, and intelligence and experience and judgment. Though knowledgeable about “poison lookalikes,” he fully employs senses for the rewarding pleasure of discovery. There is in fact a field test that always works to determine whether anything suspicious is dangerous. It starts with touching the item to the skin, then to the lips, then to the tongue, then holding the tiniest piece in the mouth, and after a waiting period swallowing it. In full form, with waiting periods, it takes two days, and of course you stop if anything unhappy happens. Too much trouble even for most foragers, but useful when you really want to learn about something newfound in your natural surroundings. Foraging feels “real” because one WISELY moves beyond prohibitions that insure safety by denying discovery in the wild, and by mistrusting food processing on one’s own behalf. Food laws help, but they frequently fail, as we see in continual recalls.

      Reply
  7. C.B. Anderson

    I’ve gone mushrooming a few times, and I’ve always loved it. We once gathered Inky Caps in the mountains of Arizona. When scrambled with eggs, they made a rather ghoulish, but tasty, meal. In northern Vermont I was taught that all coral fungus are edible, so we ate them. Most recently, I discovered a giant (about the size of a soccer ball) puffball. I gave half to my neighbor, who, being of German descent, immediately schnitzeled slices of it. I’ve always been a big fan of free food, but as you noted, one always needs to be very careful.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Being careful is the price of it, but that puffball schnitzel must have been mouth-watering! They are huge, but entirely soft. Glad to find one reader with happy experience in foraging. Looking at the perilous pages of my handbook to check on coral fungus, I didn’t see any, but there is a red one called Fly Agaric which is known to have psychedelic effects, and another red cap known simply as The Sickener. Beware!

      Reply
  8. Yael

    That’s a great food foraging poem Margaret. I like how you describe the plants and fungi and then weave in good advice for the beginner. Mushroom and berry foraging was a common summer and fall activity where I grew up in Germany and in my family we foraged a lot for all kinds of wild foods. I still do it, but mostly on my own land, because I have more knowledge and control over what gets applied here, or more importantly, what doesn’t get applied. How do you like to prepare your burdock roots? Do you boil them fresh, or do you dry them first?

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Yael, thanks for telling about your foraging experiences, and for appreciating the poem. I boil burdock root fresh, after scrubbing some of the skin off, and adding a little vinegar to the water to prevent discoloration. There’s also soy sauce and sake in the water for flavor, and even Japanese cooks may put in salt and sugar too. Once the pieces are tender enough to eat, turn off the heat, but leave them to absorb flavor until the water cools to room temperature, and save the flavored water to store leftovers. A spicy dressing can be made by grinding sesame seeds and sansho pepper pods, but I rarely want it. I have never obtained burdock by foraging, because you may need the landowner’s permission to uproot an entire plant, even if he might be glad to get rid of it. It’s easy to find in stores in Japan and California. Best wishes with everything growing on your land!

      Reply
      • Yael

        Thank you for the recipe Margaret! I will try it out some time soon because my burdock patch looks ready for the harvesting. The seeds burrs are fully developed and the stems are turning brown.

  9. Paul A. Freeman

    Your poem brings back all those fungal forays we did at college at the weekends (academic forays, not for hallucinogenic fungi).

    I’ve just returned from a six-week trip to the UK and blackberries were in abundance. It’s amazing, though, how we’re so suspicious of fruits on the ‘vine’, trusting instead to packaged supermarket products.

    Thanks for reminding me of natures bounty, even in urban settings (though I was concerned that a dog out for a walk might have peed on the blackberries I ate on the way to Tesco).

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      There is always some fear mixed with the thrilling adventure of foraging. It is, however, sad to be suspicious of the freshness and flavor of living, growing plant food and always trust to Tesco instead. Have you noticed how supermarkets charge more for “on the vine” fruits or vegetables? They’ve noticed, I think, a desire for unplucked natural quality that some shoppers are willing to pay for. Glad to have brought you memories of college forays, and hope you enjoyed the recent trip!

      Reply
  10. Maria

    Thank you for this beautiful poem that makes one want to go out and look at nature more closely. I have foraged for blackberries in the past but not so much this year due to circumstances. I look forward all year to the crop of apples we get from the apple tree and eating stewed apple with everything! There is a distinctly fresh taste that is lacking in anything shop bought.
    Thank you again dear Margaret for opening our eyes to how much more there is out there if we look. It is also a fantastic antidote to listening to the so called news.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      You’re right, Maria. What’s new outdoors is much more satisfying than what’s called news. And it changes season by season. Where I live most of us have fruit trees, and often plenty of fruit to share at church so it doesn’t go to waste. You are also right that we need to open our eyes if we are to notice wild growth. Hope you have a good crop of apples later this year!

      Reply
  11. James Sale

    I’d love to, but will not as you have disclaimed liability! I’ve always found the foraging for fungi impossible – and fearful. But this is a lovely wherein I can imagine I have the skill to do it! Thanks.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      James, if you think back over your life, you’ve probably picked and eaten something growing wild. Maybe not fungi–I don’t know how foragers in England today manage to slice Chicken of the Woods from a tree trunk, since it’s not legal to carry any knife with a fixed blade. I must disclaim liability, of course! If you notice that provision in the poem, the many lawyers at this site would as well. Thanks for reading and commenting.

      Reply
  12. Adam Sedia

    Sometimes we can get so lost in literary analysis that we forget that poetry can be fun. And you’ve given us a fun poem. It certainly conveys the joy and excitement of someone who loves to go foraging. I love your description of the mushrooms; it never ceases to amaze me how our ancestors figured out which mushrooms kill you, which ones make you see God, and which ones are a tasty ingredient.

    I also remember as a child eating pan-fried burdock (or “cardun” as we called it) that my grandpa found in his favorite foraging spot. Unfortunately I was never taught how to spot it, so enjoying it is a distant memory. Thank you for reviving those memories.

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Thank you, Adam, glad this is fun! And you’ve given me a good clue about plants. As I told Yael above, I know burdock as Japanese gobo, of which the root is food. But when you call it “cardun,” I remember buying cardoons in an Italian market here in California. Usually no fresh vegetables there, but growers (or foragers) occasionally bring them in. Looks like celery, with only the remnant of a root, and smaller, prettier leaves than English burdock. I couldn’t do anything with it because of spines all over it. But, having checked cooking websites, I see carduni are thistles much enjoyed as fried food by Italians. That clicks. Burdock is an invasive thistle considered useless in Britain, with thin stalks and gigantic leaves. And edible roots, but legal foraging does not allow uprooting and taking away a plant, except with the landowner’s permission. That’s why my forager speaker plans to make money by charging the owner to clear his land of burdock, and then to eat the simmered roots. You might be able to rediscover your grandpa’s cardun by looking at online pictures of cardoons, or by asking about them at an Italian market. Just beware of the spines if you find some. Buon appetito!

      Reply
  13. Daniel Kemper

    Hi Margaret,

    First, I loved the play* in the opening:
    “fun outdoors; / No fungi, flowers, foliage, fruit / For us …” The extra bit of play was extending fun into fun-gi.

    But the alliterations certainly don’t stop there the play extends the full length of the poem. It triggered a thought–the poem stands on its own as a poem about what it’s about, no deeper meaning needed. Each stanza was a newly discovered treat.

    But–

    What popped in mind for me though, because I read it when taking a break from my own writing, a particular patch where I had wandered a long time and tested out many, many ways to add a line or so to something I’d already prepared, the search for the perfect word struck me as really well illustrated by the search for fungi. And since I had killed a line that seemed really good at first, but on second look was destructive to the rest of the poem, the final line about being wary of “food’s poison lookalikes” really struck home.

    A terrific and timely read!

    Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Thanks so much, Daniel! Poems do not belong to the poet alone. As soon as there is another reader, he can interpret as he likes, based on the language that is our shared heritage. That’s how you found your own destructive line among “food’s poison lookalikes” in my poem. I didn’t put it there, but I used language enabling you to see your revising as foraging for good words, with a warning equally applicable to both processes. I am delighted you discovered treats in every stanza, and found one I didn’t plan. Hope you feel “real.”

      Reply
  14. Margaret Coats

    He gathers health from herbs the forest yields,
    And of their fragrant physic spoils the fields.

    Alexander Pope on foraging, from his
    “Windsor Forest,” lines 241-242

    Reply

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