I only but recently made a really welcome discovery. Long story short, that funghus in the picture is Laetiporous Sulphureus (chicken of the woods, in German Schwefelporling). It is a delicacy that tastes and feels a lot like chicken meat, so much in fact that I can really recommend it for anyone looking for a meat substitute. It grows in large quantities, and as with many other funghi, grows more abundant with the forest problems due to climate change. It grows in brackets up to 45 kg in weight. It can be dried and frozen and then keeps over long periods of time. It is reputed to have antibacterial properties. It can be used as a natural dye, too. I found mine in early summer, and dried some for my stock.
Short story long, I learned about it first... well, in a situation that might be called one of those Fimbulmyrk stories.
First things first, I have that appointment with the local hunters, the bureau of forestry affairs and the landowner that I virtually can do anything I like (as long as it doesn't involve fire or any silly stunt such like in the local woods, an appointment I very much honour, respect and like, because, well, I would be in a bedlam if I could not sit in the woods the way I do. Deal is that I have a bit of a lookout after those woods precious to my heart, too, which I find self - evident.
Now I was on a bimble, when I smelled something I do not want to smell at any time in the woods.
Smoke.
Looking around, I saw it rising from a thicket nearby. Actually I felt a bit relieved when I saw three people near it.
Now, well, actually I think while not everyone should be permitted to have a fire in the woods, I also very much understand why someone would want one. And it is not the same if some ghetto kid sets the whole area on fire or an experienced woodsman makes her or himself a brew. Well, living in a shithole of a city, if you can even call it a city still, I very much had my fill of ghetto kids, and will bear the scars of telling some of them off all the rest of my life (they had to bear the consequences, too, of course, but I still do not like that), so I was less than enthused.
Getting near the fire stealthily, but also trying not to look too threatening, but keeping my Shillelagh at the ready, I realized it was some elderly guy and two little girls.
They had a pan sat on the small cooking fire, which was built very cunningly to be small but effective, and there was sort of a stew simmering away.
I introduced myself, and it turned out they were Ukrainian refugees, two kids with their grandpa. They simply did not know it was prohibited in Germany to light a fire in the woods. With a lot of gestures, a translation App and more smiles and respect we agreed that they finished their cooking and then extinguished the fire. I agreed not to call anyone.
Actually, we got into a really nice, if somewhat complicated conversation. It turned out the old fella was a very experienced woodsman (who sorely missed his home forest). The only German sentence he knew was "Ich kenne Pilze sehr" (I know mushrooms very), and I personally think someone with these priorities cannot be that bad a character. It also transpired that he simply forgot to bring salt and spice. Well, I was on my way to the old man (Fritz) and had a truckload of wild garlic in my backpack, and there were ground elder and ground ivy growing abundantly in the vicinity. I also had made a cutting board from elm just before the encounter, which I gifted to them.
It all ended that I made a spoon for myself and we all sat around the pan enjoying a delicious mushroom stew together.
I whittled some fast gypsy flowers and a heart for the girls, and they went arse over tit out of joy for it. We extinguished the fire together. When we parted, we hugged, even though we will most likely never meet again, as friends.
Message, by the way.
And that is the story of a new bit of knowledge I learned. Chicken of the woods. Tasted delicious, even without salt.
Next message, by the way. ☺️ 🤣 You might be able to find out yourselves.
