{Actually, of these we only ate the ones on the left, thankfully}
The last few days have been very fun, very full and rich with experiences. I have felt very happy, and very actually here for the first time. There are oh so many stories that I wish to share with you, and I couldn’t keep myself away from writing at least a few of them.
After weeks of being in beautiful old cities and surrounded by cobblestones and brick, it felt like a wonderful and much needed escape to go mushroom hunting with Michel-Marie and Chantal on Thursday. Just stepping out of the car into the wet air and smelling the rich smell of the woods across the road made us feel like fish re-immersed in water after a long and adventurous trip into the air. It felt like home, and we could feel it rejuvenating us as we drifted into the woods, away from cars and buildings.
It was a dark cloudy day, and the woods were beautiful with a thick mossy floor in parts. There was no underbrush to speak of, and we could see mushrooms everywhere. Before we knew which ones were ones we wanted to keep, we asked Michel-Marie or Chantal about the various kinds we found. The first, and most plentiful, kind of bolete we found was one with a very viscous cap that isn’t actually very good to eat. They were all over. There were other kinds that were big and healthy and in abundance, but they also weren’t what we were looking for, so we roamed around, gradually accumulating the delicious types of boletes. We had a great time, even when it started raining. I had it the best, as I had run back to the car at the beginning to retrieve my raincoat before we really got walking. Everyone else, however, was not so well prepared. Chantal was wearing a chic leather jacket, Francoise had on a cute but hoodless jacket, and the others were similarly adorned. Thus, when it really started coming down, we started heading for the car at a swift pace. When Chantal suggested “on court?” I instantly agreed, and we set off running gleefully down the hill to the car. Even so, we were all quite wet but happy when we climbed into the van.
After the first spot, we went to other places. Jan found a nice big bolete, and I could tell he was in heaven out there, looking for mushrooms. Michel-Marie said it was “like a little orgasm”, spotting a mushroom when you are really into it. We all laughed. We also tried a chanterelle spot, but they weren’t on at the time, but the sun shone through at that point so we didn’t mind, it was so beautiful.
We ended the trip with a nice picnic of roasted chicken, gouda and baguettes. Both parties brought chicken, ours was roasted in a pan with lemon and garlic, and Michel-Marie’s was a smoked chicken fresh roasted that day. Both were delicious.
We spent a little time exploring the town of Spa (the original Spa) before returning home. Three of us went out for a beer at a café in Huy, which we greatly enjoyed. I had a Kwak, which came in this highly unique glass. You have to be very careful when drinking out of it however, or you might end up with beer all down your front.
However, I deviate from the tale of the mushrooms. Most of them went back with Michel-Marie and Chantal to be brought to the dinner party the following evening, and we brought a few back with us to have a little taste.
It was at the dinner party on Friday evening that the mushrooms had the end to their story, and what an ending! We had spent the afternoon taking a little jaunt to Germany, returning around 6ish due to traffic to get ready. We all dressed up a bit more than we had since coming to Europe, and it was fun to get ready for the dinner. I get an added sense of pleasure from being up here in the attic, listening to Billie Holiday while I take a sponge bath in the sink, put on makeup and choose my clothes. It’s a little difficult to do the latter, however, as there are no full length mirrors. I have to move from one mirror that shows the lower half of my body to another on the other wall to see the upper half, but its not so bad.
Finally we were all dressed and ready, and we got back into the car. We arrived quite late and it seemed everyone had already been there for a while, judging from the happy buzz people exuded while holding their glasses of wine, chatting with one another. A cheerful hubbub ensued due to our arrival, and we kissed cheeks, exchanged greetings and names. There were a range of people there, some of whom I had never met before, some who I hadn’t seen since the last time I was here when I was 17, and also those who I had seen yesterday. It was a fun and raucous few minutes, with lots of laugher and talking. I eventually made my way into the kitchen where I found more people hanging out, though less than in the living room. Even in a strange house, more times than not I feel a sense of comfort in being in the kitchen. I suppose a little part of me feels at home there. Also I suppose there is another language to the kitchen that goes beyond French or English. I had fun conversing a bit with Genevieve, who was very cheerful and positively radiant, chatting away about her love of True Blood—a mutual love. I felt quite at home.
I spent much of the time before dinner there in the kitchen, and we watched as Michel-Marie prepared the boletes and the other mushrooms we had gathered the day before. When Sven (whom I have hitherto called Jan) mentioned that he had seen a big puff ball mushroom across the road, he was immediately dispatched to retrieve it. He swiftly achieved his mission, and though the first giant mushroom was too old, the next was nice and fresh. Michel-Marie dipped the slices into egg and then breadcrumbs with garlic powder before sautéing them in a pan. The proffered pieces of crispy golden brown mushrooms were quite delicious, with a nice texture that maintained its shape, but was curiously soft in a dense way without being mushy. The boletes too were excellent, and I liked how they were spicy too.
{The Puffball Mushroom}
In the beginning, I had had a short debate with myself about whether or not I was going to take pictures or simply enjoy myself. The former didn’t put up enough of a fight, and I settled into talking, observing, sipping and relating. However, when the mushrooms were assembled in the pan, I was made aware that for the first time my blog had somehow preceded me. Paris, our host for the evening, told me I must take a picture for my blog! I was quite shocked, as this hadn’t happened to me before. However, I happily complied, and now here I am, writing away and very grateful that I had the pictures that you are now able to enjoy along with this description. It was a fun experience.
The dinner itself was immensely pleasing in its simplicity, unadorned with the richness of creams and fats in their many forms that have become such an insistent ingredient in the many meals we have eaten to date. It was very refreshing. We were all seated at a long table, as there were around 17 or so of us. We were served pasta with cherry tomatoes, mozzarella, and very thin slices of ham out of a gorgeous Moroccan wood bowl, which we enjoyed with a glass of wine and fun company. It was a great party, and I enjoyed myself immensely.
