Alexandra Kennon
The Northlake Nature Center
The night before my first time foraging for mushrooms, my boyfriend and I were dining on a mysterious farm-to-table dish at the Bacchanal Wine Bar. A band mate of his had ordered the entrée and forgotten about it, absent-mindedly leaving and then calling to offer us the untouched plate the kitchen had brought out. Strips of some kind of fleshy material had been seared and set atop an herby green sauce. “What is it?” I asked Sam, as he took his first bite. “It looks kind of like pork belly,” I mused, watching him chew laboriously. “Oh yeah, it’s gotta be pork belly.” He swallowed, then said, “No, it’s a mushroom.”
Beyond the mushrooms found most commonly on grocery store shelves and atop pizzas, there is of course a whole world of edible mushrooms that grow wild in nature—for those brave and informed well enough to forage and taste them. When the pandemic pushed people outdoors, foraging surged in popularity, even becoming a trend on TikTok. John Mansfield has been a wild mushroom enthusiast since long before 2020, though—he’s studied the fungi for over forty years, in fact—and he was the expert chosen to lead the Northlake Nature Center’s “Mushroom Walk” on a recent Saturday morning in May.
It was my first time visiting Northlake, and I nearly missed the sign and turn among the thick wall of trees. I wove down the gravel drive, parked, and began to meander down the boardwalk as the pine and hardwood forest engulfed it, the 10 am sunlight filtering through the leaves to give everything a soft, green tint. Around another bend in the boardwalk, a pavilion with a high-peaking roof lined with wooden benches emerged amidst the trees.
Alexandra Kennon
Mushroom Walk participants strolling the boardwalks at Northlake Nature Center.
Before the presentation began, Northlake Nature Center’s Executive Director Rue McNeill introduced Mansfield and explained a bit about Northlake. The independently-run nonprofit nature preserve is made up of 400 acres of ancient pine and hardwood forests, bordered on the west side by Bayou Castine and intersected by a marsh—all teeming with native flora and fauna. Those who walk the system of pathways at Northlake can experience four different ecosystems, including hardwood forest, pine-hardwood forest, pine savanna, and pond-swamp. It’s funded by donations and upkept by volunteers—who come out for weekly “Nature Walk and Titivation” events, which feature a nature stroll and trail-trimming session.
Before we embarked on our foraging adventure, Mansfield advised those of us interested in foraging edible mushrooms to get copies of his “old standby” the National Audubon Society Field Guide to Mushrooms and a newer release, Mushrooms of the Gulf Coast States. “Don’t fool around with this,” he cautioned the diverse-in-age group of around fifteen who had gathered. “There are thousands of varieties of mushrooms that grow in the southeastern United States, and I have eaten fifteen or sixteen species—that’s it, no more,” he said. “And I have enough knowledge and ability to pick mushrooms and know if I can eat them and whatnot, but I’m not going to poison myself eating a mushroom.”
Alexandra Kennon
Mushroom Walk participants admire and identify their finds with Mansfield's help.
With over four decades of experience in research and foraging, Mansfield’s knowledge is vast—including an awareness of what he doesn’t know for certain, or isn’t willing to risk. He explained that the way mushrooms are grouped is much like plants such as roses or azaleas that come in different varieties of species. We learned that the unassuming-looking amanita family is responsible for ninety percent of mushroom poisonings, and that even delicious chanterelles have a deadly doppelgänger. Mushroom mycelium was credited for its use as an alternative to plastic, and another mushroom enthusiast in attendance chimed in that mats made of oyster mushrooms are used to soak up oil spills. A slide in the presentation even touched on psilocybin cubensis—more commonly known as “magic mushrooms”—to which the enthusiast replied, “they’re all magic mushrooms, to some extent.”
Shortly thereafter, the presentation came to a close, and Mansfield looked around at the increasingly-excited, now somewhat-fidgety group: “Now who wants to go looking for mushrooms?”
Armed with our new fungi knowledge, plastic knives, and paper bags, we were off; the group dispersing in various directions down the boardwalk paths. I headed back across the parking lot toward the canoe launch area, which seemed as promising a place as any to come upon mushrooms. I joined a couple from North Carolina who was visiting their Mandeville-based daughter and a pair of teenaged sisters with their parents. Our eyes would have been drawn beyond the boardwalk to the beauty of the surrounding wildlife, regardless, but our quest gave us a boost in motivation. Even as we chatted, our eyes carefully scanned along the forest floor, up tree trunks, and along fallen logs, ready to hone in on a sneaky spore-bearer.
Alexandra Kennon
An "Orange Bully", found by a young forager much more skilled than the author.
“It’s kind of like a difficult Easter egg hunt,” I quipped as I knelt down to check beneath a log. Just as I thought the warm weather might not yield any of us much luck, one of the teenagers yelled from a few yards away: “We found one!” I wondered if they had been watching foraging videos on TikTok as the rest of our group excitedly clamored over to check out the find. She brandished a gnarled-looking mushroom with a neon orange cap that some animal had clearly taken a bite out of. I wondered how that critter was doing as we all marveled at the specimen.
A short time later, when our group had a modest-but-varied few mushrooms among us, we headed back toward the Pavilion with our spore spoils in tow. Back at the Pavillion, we and the other foragers laid out our finds on a long table, and Mansfield helped us identify them utilizing the two reference books he’d suggested. Collectively, the group had found turkey tails, oyster mushrooms, some old chanterelles, and an orange bully. An older lady who clearly had some background in wild mushrooms herself excitedly placed an oyster mushroom she found in the palm of my hand. “If you take that home and sauté it in some butter, it’ll taste just like seafood!” After a bit more excited chatter, the group said goodbye and moseyed back down the boardwalk to our cars, having practiced a new skill and spent a pleasant morning immersed in nature.
Northlake is hosting the following events in June:
June 1, June 8, and June 22: “Nature Walk and Titivation”—Walk the trails and help to keep them groomed. Loppers available on a limited basis. 5:30 pm. Free.
June 3, June 11, and June 17: "Storywalk"—Explore the trails at Northlake Nature Center while reading interactive stories. Reservations required. 6 pm. $5; free for members.
June 14: "Kundalini Yoga" with Sally Dunn—Reservations required. 1 pm. $5; free for members.
June 25: "Walk in the Woods—Medicinal Plants with Kelly McGee and Plant I.D. with Rue McNeill"—Reservations required. 9 am. $5; free for members.
June 26: "Dog Wag and Walk"—Reservations required. 8 am. $5; free for members.
June 28: “Bicycling the Back Trails” and “Tips to Trail Riding” with The Bike Path owner, David Moeller. Helmet required, mountain bike or wide tires and bike light recommended. Reservations required. 6 pm. $5; free for members.
To register, call (985) 626-1238 or email rue@northlakenature.org.
