Day 287: Like any Hobbit worthy of the name, when Mother Nature lays her finest at my feet, I do not hesitate to gather it in. Kevin and I left work together and walked toward the car, but as we rounded the end of a fallen tree, he heard me yell, "Oh, my gawd! DESSERT!" and just that fast, I'd swooped down and picked the best two of four specimens of Boletus edulis, a wild edible I have not found for decades. This, dear readers, is the King Boleta, and it deserves acclaim. It is, in my opinion, the best wild mushroom the Pacific Northwest has to offer. If plates of Morels, Chanterelles and Edulis were placed side by side within my reach, I would choose the Boleta without further consideration. Those massive, bulbous stems are edible as well as the fleshy cap, although oftener than not, one or both are riddled with tiny worms. In this case, the mushrooms had sprung up during the day; at least Kevin is certain they were not there when we parked the car in the morning. I made a side trip before going to the office and might have missed them. Freshly sprouted, there were still worms in the stems and a few in the caps. These were judiciously pared away, and the remainder of the caps were fried up in butter with only a little salt and pepper for a condiment. What a treat! Why didn't I pick the other two, you wonder? Because I never take them all. Ma wouldn't like that.
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