In mycological text after mycological text, in mushroom poisoning report after mushroom poisoning report we get the advice to use abstinece as the fool proof means of avoiding mushroom poisonong. Many texts, for example, advise against foraging for any Amanitas becuase one Amanita, Amanita phalloides, represents something like 95% of all mushroom fatalities globally.

This is a fabulous text from 1870 that argues that we should teach mushroom identification rather than simply tell peoplt to avoid mushrooms. The author is here concerened with all of the good food that rots on the forest floor. We may hava more recreational take on foraging. Some of the musrhooms he mentions as being poisonous, like Russula emetica, are easily detoxified through par boiling, like we do with pasta.

This text is from “The Journal of Horticulture”, George Johnson, 1870.

Fungus eating.

If we were to search the wide world I do not think that it would be possible to find a nation more prejudiced than ourselves. We boast of our enlightenment and the liberality of our views; but, when we come to the practical, it takes an immense deal of leverage to move us out of our beaten track; and, even in the common habits of our lives, we go on to the end of the chapter as though there was but one way of doing things.

In the little matters of eating and drinking we are perfect slaves to our cooks; and whether it arises from indolence, timidity, or ignorance, the result is the same-that few of us dare try experiments; whereby a great quantity of palatable food remains unknown and unheeded. This is particularly the case with the class of comestibles which forms the subject of my paper-viz., that of the Fungus; the true knowledge and appreciation of which would keep starvation from many a poor man’s table (at least during three months in the year), and give the gourmand an additional luxury wherewith to tickle his palate. The apathy, ridicule, or disgust with which a serious proposal to cook and eat Fungi is received, is the more extraordinary because so much has been said and written about them; therefore it cannot be altogether from ignorance of the subject. Dr. Badham, Messrs. Cooke, Worthington Smith, Berkeley, and others have expatiated well and fully on the whole tribe of Mushrooms and Fungi; and, even for those who cannot screw up their courage to the crucial test of eating them, the works of these authorities are full of interest. More recently, too, the great Fungus question has been examined in the most practical manner by the members of a Natural History Society in the West of England, called the Woolhope Club, which has its head-quarters at Hereford, and embraces in its scientific investigations all the district between Shropshire and the Bristol Channel. Geology and botany are the main studies of this Society, but latterly that of mycology (the study of Fungi) has been added, and a most useful and important one it is. One day in each autumn is devoted to a Fungus hunt through the prolific woods of Herefordshire, and the numbers that are gathered by this enthusiastic band are something enormous. The labours of the day are closed by a dinner, at which the main dishes are composed of the spoils of the chase, dressed in the most epicurean fashion, and with the most appetising (Fungus) sauces; and as I have myself assisted at these Apician banquets, I can vouch for the delicacy of the viands, and the absurdity which we daily commit of turning up our noses at the good things with which Nature has supplied us. But the Woolhope Club does more than eat and talk, for it publishes (though only privately) an annual volume of its transactions, including a description of the Fungi of the county, and the best modes of cooking them. These descriptions, and the illustrations which accompany them, are mainly due to the energy and experience of Dr. Bull, of Hereford, who has been the chief instrument in making the Woolhope Club a Funguseating community, and who rivals Soyer himself in his ingenuity in discovering new ways of cooking his favourite food.

Seriously speaking, however, I consider the endeavour to make the public understand the value of the Fungus to the nation so very important, that I shall draw largely upon the Woolhope experiences, as well as those of other writers, in the hope that the readers of the “Food Journal” will really try experiments for themselves. With the uninitiated in such matters there is, not unnaturally, a nervous reluctance in taking the first plunge; for, to the minds of most people, & Toadstool is only another word for rank poison, while a Puffball suggests horrible tortures by inordinate swelling, until the wretched victim bursts. This, I remember was one of the warnings in early life, not to meddle with suspicious Mushrooms. But, although there is some grounds for distrust (as there is in most other things), a little inquiry will show how fearfully the danger is exaggerated.

The Rev. M. Berkeley gives us a list of 2380 different kinds of British Fungi, and even then does not include those which require a microscope to distinguish their peculiar characters. Out of this large number he ranks ten only as poisonous, and six as doubtful. He does not imply by this that of all the 2380 every one is eatable-for this is very far from being the case-but simply that they are not poisonous; and that is the first and the greatest point which we have to combat. It is unfortunately the case that some of the most poisonous are the most common; for, as Dr. Ball observes, “There is scarcely a field, and, perhaps, not a single wood, in the country that does not abound with several varieties of the Coprinus, the Agaricus fascicularis, the beautifully coloured Russula emetica, and several others. But, since they are so abundant, it is peculiarly our province to encourage the study of mycology; and thus lessen the prejudice existing against them all, by clearly showing the means of distinguishing which arepasgood and which are bad. This is a matter of some difficulty, for the scientific differences are too minute for ready distinction. We cannot be guided by the place they grow in; nor can we eat after slugs, as we do after wasps and birds with fruit, for slugs seem to enjoy the most poisonous kinds. Colour gives no distinction, nor is the smell or taste of the Fungus an infallible guide. It is freely acknowledged, therefore, that there are poisonous Mushrooms, and that, unfortunately, they are exceedingly common; but this is surely no argument for neglecting the far greater proportion of what may be made wholesome food. We might, on this ground, refuse to eat Potatoes, because that plant belongs to a family containing virulent poisons. Parsley, too, which is the most familiar garnish that we have, is not regarded with suspicion because the Fool’s Parsley, which grows in many gardens nearly as freely, is poisonous. We eat Horseradish without thinking twice about it, although a year seldom passes without somebody being poisoned by accompanying their roast beef with scraped Aconite root, which is so like Horseradish that it requires a little care to distinguish between the two.

The question, therefore, resolves itself into this, that-whether it be Horseradish, Parsley, or Fungi-everybody, whether of high or low degree, ought to have that instruction in common things which should make it impossible for such mistakes to happen. While in our public schools we pretend to give instruction in chemistry and physics, it is inconsistent that we should ignore the study of simple geology and botany, the knowledge of which in strange countries is of incalculable importance; and the value of such elementary knowledge in schools of a lower class can scarcely be overrated. “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” is a proverb that is often quoted by well-meaning people as a warning against this sort of instruction, as tending to make the recipients thereof smatterers, conceited, and presumptuous; but surely to teach a village child what Fungus he may gather for the cottage dinner without danger of being poisoned, is as useful knowledge as the height of the Himalayas or the date of the battle of Navarino. I am aware that there are plenty of facilities for this teaching in the way of cheap illustrations, such as those by Mr. W. G. Smith; but I cannot find that such teaching is anywhere made compulsory, or indeed is adopted at all, except in isolatedcases.

Foreigners are far before us in appreciating the value of the Fungus as a food supply, and notably in France and Italy; although, with a due regard to the public safety, Fungi are allowed to be sold only when passed by the inspectors of food: with this regulation we certainly should not quarrel. Mr. Story, in his interesting work “Roba di Roma,” tells us that

one of the most common articles of sale are baskets of Mashrooms. “There are the grey porcini, the foliated alberetti, and the orange-hued ovole; some of the latter of enormous size, big enough to shelter a thousand fairies under their smooth and painted domes. In each of them is a cleft stick, bearing a card from the inspector of the market, granting permission to sell them; for Mushrooms have proved fatal to so many Cardinals, to say nothing of Popes and other people, that they are naturally looked upon with suspicion, and must be all officially examined to prevent accidents. The Italians are braver than we are in the matter of eating; and many a Fungus which we obristen with the foul name of Toadstool, and ignominiously exile from our tables, is here baptised with the Christian appellation of Mushroom, and is eagerly sought after as one of the cheapest and most delicious of vegetables.” In Milan, too, the porcini, which in English botanical phrase is the Boletus edulis; the ovole, the equivalent of the Agaricus cæsareus; with some few more, are openly sold under inspection. I will conclude this article with a quotation from “The Esculent Funguses of England,” by Dr. Badham, one of the most persevering inquirers, and as audacious an experimenter as this country has ever produced. Describing his rambles in 1847 he says, “I have seen this autumn whole hundred weights of rich wholesome diet rotting under the trees; woods teeming with food, and not one hand to gather it; and this, perhaps, in the midst of Potato blight, poverty, and all manner of privations, and public prayers against famine. I have indeed grieved, when I reflected on the straitened condition of the lower orders, to see unused pounds innumerable of extempore beefsteaks growing on our Oaks in the shape of Fistulina hepatica, with Agaricus fusipes to pickle, in clusters under them.”

Making allowances for a certain amount of enthusiasm, the question is certainly sufficiently interesting to urge us to do our best towards introducing this new food, at present wasted; not only by learning to distinguish the good from the bad, but by practically making the trial at our own tables. For it must be remembered that it is all nonsense preaching to the poor to try this and that, unless the rich do it themselves; for the former are not only more ignorant, but ten times more prejudiced, and, in many cases, the facility of getting them for nothing would be rather a hindrance than an inducement to make the experiment.

Still, if a demand should arise for Fungi, and the poor were to find that they were saleable articles, they would very soon begin to try for themselves what they were like; and in this way, with the most ordinary teaching and care, we might largely supplement the national larder.-PHILLIPS BEVAN.—(Food Journal.)