Let’s Not Mince Words About Mushrooms: Fungal Fibbing is On the Rise

Springtime means only one thing in my home: hunting for morel mushrooms.  I am privileged to live with a lifelong mushroom hunter, and I am frequently the beneficiary of his talents and tutelage.  For those who are not familiar, morels are the elusive, brainy-textured mushrooms that grow in temperate regions in the early spring.

Because they are difficult to cultivate, tricky to locate, and only fruit during a short window in the springtime, they can be pricy often costing between $30-$75 per pound when fresh, or even up to $250 per pound dried.  While the price is hefty compared to the humble white button mushroom at $4-$5 per pound, morels are considered choice in culinary circles, and has a completely different flavor and texture from your standard supermarket varieties.  Since they are in season, they may be popping up on seasonal menus and in gourmet grocery stores in the central and mid-Atlantic regions right now.

I used to hate mushrooms.  The taste never really offended me, but the texture – ugh!  As a kid, I imagined that cooked mushrooms had the same texture as diced up worms (I apologize for the mental image).  As a lifelong vegetarian, the idea turned my stomach, but I gradually learned to tolerate them as I grew older, and try not to think too much about the “ick” factor.

When I met my boyfriend, he sympathized with my tepid attitude towards conventional mushrooms, but asked me if I felt differently about wild mushrooms.  “You mean like… portabello?  Eh – it’s ok I guess.  If it’s cooked really well-done or seared or something.”  My reticent response betrayed my ignorance.

“But what about wild mushrooms. Morels? Chanterelles? Chicken of the woods?”

“Go on..”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

What happened next changed my life.  It was April, and an overnight rain had left a fog in the air and a gentle dew on the ground. We walked out of my back door and into a small patch of woods about a hundred yards away that separated my development from a golf course. What luck! In the space of thirty minutes, we found a small handful of morel mushrooms.  In another five minutes they were rinsed, dried, and sautéed for me to experience for the first time.  They were nutty, earthy, savory – and not at all slimy!  That’s when I learned that saying “I don’t like mushrooms” is similar to saying “I don’t like vegetables.”  To reject an entire kingdom of living things as “gross” is to be deprived one of nature’s great gifts to food lovers.

But how have I never been exposed to these wild varieties?  At the time, I was no great consumer of haute cuisine; I was a recent college grad with crushing student debt, a low-wage starter job, and very little disposable income.   I had never been to a  fancy restaurant, and I couldn’t afford to shop at the upscale health food stores. Traditional grocery store chains often only have three types of mushrooms: white button, crimini (sometimes called “Baby ‘Bella”) or portobello mushrooms.  In fact, these three “varieties” actually the same mushroom, the Agaricus bisporus, and they only vary in shape and color due to difference in cultivation styles and maturity levels. The Agaricus bisporus account for nearly 90% of all farmed mushrooms grown in the United States.  So in stark contrast, while there are in fact dozens of kinds of mushrooms grown in the United States, conventional grocery chains only offer one variety to the average consumer.

My attitude has completely changed about mushrooms since that day.  I have many new favorites nowadays, including oyster mushroom, shrimp-of-the-woods, chicken-of-the-woods, and bearded tooth mushroom.  Since I can hunt these mushrooms myself, I am not terribly affected by the high price-tags that go along with these pleasures.

But from time-to-time I do dine out, and sometimes I am thrilled to see “wild mushrooms” on the menu.  I like to think that this vague title is used because the chef intends to use whatever is in season.  If it’s springtime, maybe morels.  If it’s summer, maybe chanterelles. Or if it’s fall, maybe bearded tooth, maitake or chicken of the woods. At times, the chef might skip the priciest mushrooms such as chanterelles or morels (about $15 – $30 per pound, or up to $250 per pound dry), in favor or more mid-range varieties such as Oyster Mushrooms, or Shiitakes (both average around $8-$16 per pound).  But that doesn’t bother me as long as the price-point is not completely off-base. These mid-range varieties are still delicious!

However, it does irk me when a chef tries to pull a fast one.  I am not aware of any official or legal definition of the term “wild mushrooms,” but field guides often focus on particular edible mushrooms which are gathered from forests.  The USDA and the Forest Products Laboratory also have guides to “forest-harvested” mushrooms. Some “wild” varieties can be cultivated on farms, but when consumers use the term “wild mushrooms” in the culinary sense, the term collectively describes the wild varietals – everything from porcini to giant puffballs.  When a menu says that the mushrooms are “wild,” the consumer expects something other than the conventional supermarket varieties, such as white button mushrooms, crimini or portobello (averaging around $4-$6 per pound).

With a per-pound cost for mushrooms ranging from $4 all the way up to nearly $10,000 for the Alba truffle, one of the world’s priciest mushrooms, consumers and restauranteurs need to get on the same page.  Clearly, not all mushrooms are created equal.  When a restaurant sells me “wild mushroom ravioli” for nearly $18 a plate, but I really get pasta stuffed with crimini mushroom, it feels a lot like a bait-and-switch.

While this is not exactly fraud, at the very least I would call it dishonesty.  Some suppliers and restauranteurs underestimate the sophistication of their clientele, as has been demonstrated with seafood fraud.  In 2013, conservation group Oceana released their seafood fraud report.  In over 1200 seafood samples collected, DNA testing found that about one-third of samples nationwide were mis-labeled.  In most cases, cheaper fish such as tilapia or escolar were passed off as higher-priced fish such as snapper and tuna.

I find the tactics in seafood fraud alarmingly familiar.  The difference is that mis-labeling seafood is illegal, and there are federal agencies in place that enforce laws intended to prevent seafood fraud, such as the US Fish and Wildlife Service, The National Marine Fisheries Service, and the Presidential Task Force on Combating Illegal Unreported and Unregulated (IUU) Fishing and Seafood Fraud. However, I’m not aware of any agency or task force responsible for protecting consumers from disingenuous mushroom labeling.  While not exactly fraud, I would characterize this mycological misrepresentation as willful ignorance at best, and downright dishonesty at worst.

And it won’t stop until consumers speak up. There is nothing wrong with supermarket mushrooms – but they’re not my favorite, and I don’t like overpaying for conventional foods.  If you feel the same way, I encourage you to learn about wild mushrooms, and get a sense of their market value.  The next time you see “wild mushrooms” on the menu, ask your server exactly which varieties will be used in the dish.  If the price is right – go for it.  But if your server doesn’t know, or tries to pass off a conventional mushroom as “wild,” I encourage you to politely inform the management that you don’t appreciate being hoodwinked.