I do believe I have the solution to the UK’s present fiscal woes.
Mushrooms!
(Do not snort. Mine cannot be a plan any worse than those being pitched by Kwasi Truss or Liz Kwateng.)
One way and another, mushrooms have been eaten for thousands of years. The mummy of a man who lived in Chile between 3,400 and 3,100 BC was buried with two types of them. Ancient Greeks and Romans cooked with them, Roman emperors employing food tasters to ensure the mushrooms they were about to consume weren’t going to kill them.
When I was a correspondent in Moscow, one of the more intriguing press releases from TASS, the Soviet news agency, announced a new mushroom could now be considered edible, but only under certain very precise and critical conditions. It first had to be boiled then the water thrown away. Next, it had to be boiled anew in a fresh quantity of water. That water, too, was to be discarded. After following those preliminary safety instructions, the mushroom needed to be fried. If all these crucial steps had been undertaken, only then could it be eaten.
By my reckoning, at least two dedicated Soviet food tasters must have died to get this mushroom onto the Safe list.
The Chinese use mushrooms not just for food but also medicinally. Mushrooms are stuffed with protein, potassium and polysaccharides, all of which support a healthy immune system.
Some mushrooms contain psilocybin and psilocin. Hippies in the 60s weren’t the first to discover these hallucinogenics in ‘magic mushrooms’. The Roman Catholic priests of 15th century accompanying Spanish invaders of Latin America recorded mind-altering mushrooms being used by the Olmec, Zapotec, Maya and Aztec peoples of Mesoamerica, in religious and healing rituals. It’s more likely these were used far earlier, according to archaeological evidence found dating from 3000 BC. Even peoples as disparate as the Vikings and Siberian shamans are believed to have consumed the undeniably attractive Fly Agaric in their ceremonies.
In France, as in Italy, Eastern Europe and Russia, mushroom hunting is a popular autumn activity. The French drive out into the country, park their cars on narrow verges, and stride furtively into musty-smelling forests, eyes down, stepping in silence carefully towards a secret destination known to generations of their families, confident that by the damp day’s end a generous crop of chanterelles, morels, or ceps (porcini) would fill their willow baskets. Park behind them and follow in their tracks at your peril. Violence might ensue.
These days, the cultivation of mushrooms has become big business. They are a key ingredient in vegetarian and vegan foods, and most recently in plant-based alternatives to meat. Their value for the latter lies less in the actual mushrooms than in their mycelia, the root-like web from which they grow.
The first person to spot the potential of mycelia was British industrialist and movie mogul, J. Arthur Rank.
Also involved in producing flour, by the mid-1960s he was looking for some way to turn excess wheat into edible protein. After analysing over 3000 different fungi, his scientists discovered Fusarium Venenatum, a mycelium web growing in a compost heap in a village south of High Wycombe in England. It transpired this could grow happily in fermenters and turn into flavourless chunks of high-protein mycoprotein.
High in fibre, low in saturated fat and a complete source of amino acids, in 1985, Quorn was born.
But aside from Quorn, there are very few mycelium-based alternatives to meat protein currently on the market. They have been blocked by EU regulations.
Under these regulations, any food that wasn’t consumed ‘significantly’ before May 1997 is considered a ‘Novel Food’ and requires authorisation before it can be marketed. This is to prevent anything toxic from being sold or eaten.
Given fungi have been consumed for centuries, it seems a pretty low, if not actually non-existent, risk. But it’s not a question of whether the familiar whole mushrooms, on sale for frying or adding to stews and more, might be toxic (they’re not). The issue is whether all types of the mycelia from which they grow might be. Before they can be used as an ingredient, each variation needs to be investigated and tested.
FINALLY THE BIG REVEAL - my solution to the UK’s hopeless and hapless global trade deal aspirations:
As defined by EU regulations, a mycelium currently comes into the category of ‘Novel Food’.
As established by the EU and the UK, Britain no longer comes into the category of ‘EU’.
Post-Brexit, the UK no longer needs European approval. Britain could lead the world in global supplies of new strains of mycelia for the growing market of sustainable vegan/vegetarian/plant-based foods.
Ta dah!!
Meat alternatives are big business. In the UK in 2020, alternative protein companies raised £2.2 billion in funding. In the US, in June 2021, the Better Meat Co completed construction in Sacramento of “a substantial mycoprotein fermentation facility”. It has raised over $12 million for a new filamentous fungi-based meat alternative. The company provides fungi-based meat alternatives sold to, among others, Perdue, which uses it in its Chicken Plus range.
The potential for being landed with a ‘Novel Food’ designation is a worry for European producers. Daniel MacGowan von Holstein of Keen 4 Greens, which he co-founded in Germany in 2019, says: “We are in the process of building a huge production facility in Hamburg and don’t want to find out next year that we can’t sell [our product] because it’s a Novel Food.”
Awww, that's a tough one.
UK manufacturers, grab the opportunity! If Britain is about to import cheap Chinese pigs, feedlot cattle, cage-raised hens, and pretty much any GMO, why not become major providers of our own plant-based foods and corner the market for the golden moment when the EU gives the OK to mycelia production? Woohoo! A unique export, ready and waiting.
Over to you. Given how long it takes for the EU to reach any decisions, you probably have a solid head start on any European competitor. If the extraordinary and astute Icelandic writer and singer Björk chooses to celebrate the significance of mycelium on her 10th album Fossora, released on 30th September (listen to Mycelia, the relevant track), it surely has potential.
This recipe uses morels, fresh or dried. If fresh, makes sure to clean their gills of woodland moss and debris. You can, of course, use plain chestnut mushrooms to good effect.
The simplicity of the ingredients and cooking method of this stew belie its elegance. It’s a very impressive dish.
Serves 4
300g/10½ oz dried or fresh morilles (morels)
30g/1oz duck fat or butter
1 kg/2lb2oz stewing veal, trimmed of fat, cut in cubes of equal size, approx 7cms/3 ins or smaller if you prefer. But they will shrink in the cooking
300ml/10fl oz dry white wine
1 bouquet garni
300ml/10fl oz double or heavy cream or crème fraîche
salt and white pepper to taste
Leaves from a few springs of flat-leaf parsley, finely minced
Preheat oven 180C/375F.
If using fresh morilles, wash them very carefully under cold running water to remove forest debris. Halve or quarter any particularly large ones. Drain them well and dry with paper towels. If using dried morilles, pour enough boiling water over to cover them and leave to plump up for an hour, then bring them to a simmer for 10 minutes to ensure they are completely softened. Drain them and their liquid through a doubled paper towel or muslin, and set aside.
Melt the duck fat or butter in a heavy-bottomed casserole and brown the veal. Add the morilles and stir, 2-3 minutes. Pour in the wine, add the bouquet garni, cover and bake for 30 minutes. Remove from the oven then add the water from the dried morilles followed by the cream. Simmer to thicken, about 15 minutes. If there is too much liquid, remove the veal and mushrooms with a slotted spoon to a warm dish and reduce the sauce at a rolling boil.
Serve in a warm tureen sprinkled with the parsley. As well as pureed potato, fresh noodles go well with this dish.
Excepting the step where you brown the veal, this is how I make blanquette de veau. Typically, I use crimini or button mushrooms, enhancing the dish with some porcini powder. But last year was unusually abundant for wild mushrooms here in Maine. We gathered so many black trumpets--a type of chanterelle--that I was able to dehydrate enough to fill a gigantic storage jar, which remains half full. This year, sadly, there were hardly any wild mushrooms to be had.