The commercial harvesting myth
by Daniel Butler, forager and author
Every autumn, as signs go up announcing foraging is banned in this forest or reserve, so stories circulate of devastating commercial picking. The culprits are generally described as gangs of East Europeans stripping the woods bare of rare fungi to sell to posh London eateries (note the dog-whistle covert racism here).
Wild mushrooms may be appearing more often on menus, but are rarely British
(Image: author’s own)
When traced to source, the tales almost always originate in press releases from those bodies attempting to put restrictions in place. Unfortunately the stories are usually swallowed and regurgitated as fact by the media. The general public duly takes this as gospel, but surprisingly many serious foragers also swallow the stories. When challenged to produce evidence, on the rare occasions when this exists, it comes in the form of photos of a large mushroom haul and the observation: ‘No one could possibly eat all that!’ This ignores the fact that there have always been dozens of ways to store a glut of wild produce for leaner times.
Non-foragers often mistake quantity for ‘commercial’
(Image: author’s own)
Commercial picking basically doesn't exist in Britain – at least not to any significant degree. Yes, there are a couple of specialist firms who supply foraged produce direct to upmarket restaurants and there will always be a few keen amateurs prepared to sell surplus plants and fungi to a local restaurant or two. Note, all of this is to order – virtually no British foraged plants or fungi end up with wholesalers. And the overall quantities harvested from the wild are still infinitesimally small.
The fact that nothing goes into the wholesale chain is important because it will always severely restrict the quantities harvested within the UK. A couple of years ago Tesco was importing choice wild mushrooms (chanterelles, winter chanterelles, hedgehogs and trompettes) at £6 a kilo. The fungi were sourced in Russia and Bulgaria and were sold in its stores for the equivalent of £20 a kilo. These prices are the figures that any British collector would have to compete against.
(Image: Tesco.com)
Digest this for a minute: a British commercial harvester would have to drive to the woods, pick literally a lorry load of mushrooms, take them home, clean and grade them, produce invoices, drive to London with, let's say, 100kg of mushrooms and sell them all, then drive home. Just supposing one could pick 100 kg of really high-grade mushrooms in the New Forest and do all the above, how many 'man days' would this take? Three - four? Probably more (at minimum wage rates this comes to £300). And don’t forget the fuel costs. Many miles would be clocked up while collecting the mushrooms after which the return trip from the New Forest to New Covent Garden is 200 miles plus the Central London vehicle taxes.
The commercial collector would also need very good insurance. Even if they were selling just to a wholesaler, the final customers would be upmarket restaurants and delicatessens. These have very expensive reputations to protect and insist all produce comes from totally reputable sources.
All this for £600?
Even a big haul is worth very little wholesale
(Image: author’s own)
Finally, consider that even the retailing giant Tesco, with its economies of scale and huge customer base, had to abandon selling choice wild mushrooms. The problems were down to a lack of quality consistency. Supermarkets demand uniformity of appearance and the inevitable hidden slugs and bugs are a total no-no. More importantly, the British simply won't buy expensive toadstools in large numbers. They like the familiarity and safety of a cultivated mushroom, not the aromas and textures of the forest floor.