Mushroom Madness

Walking out with an earl grey tea, slowly warming my frosty fingers. I look out over the Gouldburn and the misty morning. I know that it's a great time for mushroom picking, these times are all ways perfect, one day after the last rain, during early autumn. I can almost see them straining to break the surface over the perfectly rolling paddocks and between the Pinot vines.
As I don my gumboots and set out with my bucket in hand, I can't help but think what a small piece of paradise I own. The horses follow me through the fields like the four horseman of the apocalypse watching every move, almost waiting for me to trip or make a fool of myself.
When I near the big elm tree where the spores have been many years before. The feeling of comfort and enjoyment when I find the congregation of army hats lying between the grass, immediately sends my mind a spin.
Wondering of all the wonderful recipes that make the humble little mushroom such a magical food....

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