Cauliflower fungus
By Daniel Butler, author and forager
When one thinks of early autumn mushrooms one might first picture porcini, chanterelles or hedgehogs, but cauliflower would never top the list. This is a pity because it is generally one of our most under-rated woodland fungi. This is perhaps because it is not that common and can be hard to find.
The cauliflower is a generally under-rated mushroom with a great taste and better texture
(Photo: author's own)
To start with the basics: it is misnamed – at least in the vernacular. It doesn’t resemble the familiar lumpy white brassica: nor does it have any similarity in taste. In appearance it is actually much closer to a marine sponge. Its appeal from a culinary point of view is actually the texture which does have overtones of its namesake (as is perhaps reflected in its wonderful scientific name of Sparassis crispa).
The mushroom is a conifer parasite. Its mycelium laces through the timber, turning the lignins into a spongey mess and as a result it is hated by foresters. When fruiting the creamy grey mushrooms erupt at ground level, usually at the base of the trunk, but sometimes a few feet away, bursting out of a lateral root.
Cauliflowers are most often found at the base of the trunk of a Scots pine
(Photo: author's own)
It is happy to attack many species, but is particularly fond of Scots pines. As a result it’s always worth checking clumps of these lovely trees (which, incidentally, are one of only three native British evergreens along with yew and juniper).
Even so, there is an art to finding this wonderful fungus. Some people appear to have a natural ability. The greatest artist I’ve known here was my son, Jack, who peaked in his early teens when he seemed unable to go for a walk without returning to announce he’d found another specimen in a new location.
Children can be magnetically-attracted to cauliflowers
(Photo: author's own)
When one does discover an infected tree, not only can the prize be significant (they can be big, have a wonderful taste and texture and dry well), but there is also the knowledge that it will reappear every autumn within inches of its last eruption. Once discovered it is therefore one of the easiest mushrooms to predict and track. It is just a matter of regularly checking the base of the same tree.
Following the growth of a cauliflower is far more predictable than that of a porcino because it is so less prone to insect damage. This doesn’t mean the little varmints ignore it. From a structural point of view it makes a perfect home. It is full of countless cavities and hidey-holes. As a result mature specimens are invariably full of slugs, earwigs and beetles.
A fortnight-old two kilogram, specimen
(Photo: author's own)
Anyway, on one occasion I found a tiny specimen starting to emerge from the base of its host where the trunk met the ground. I returned on a daily basis to photograph progress. Unfortunately I am not sufficient a scientist to let the experiment run its full course. It grew and grew, but in the end I couldn’t bear the thought of whole thing going over the top. So after a fortnight I had to step in to harvest this choice specimen. By this time it was 60cm in diameter. When I got home – and before I began to cut it up to shake out its myriad of insect life – I weighed the beast. It tipped the scales at two kilos.