Written by Zary Fekete
These days there are many books, many pages, all promising, but the right way to begin is to ask
grandmother. Which grandmother? Choose one. They are all correct and never lie. Nagyi or
Nagyika or Mamikam. From Pest or Dunantul or the Alfold, they each have their secrets. They
were all young once. Their routes led them from little country hamlets and acres of chipped
Communist blocs, down through the decades, past wall after wall, papered with propaganda,
each sign promising something just beyond reach, not quite true. But the mushroom recipe
doesn’t lie. It just requires the right one.
Choose favorable weather. Just after a rain followed by a humid sun, hidden away in the
shadows of the forest. Not a stir of breeze among the wet trunks. The only sound the drip drip of
soaked leaves and the tiny scurrying of beetles and ants among the underbrush. Bring along a
basket lined with embroidered cloth for collection and grandfather’s sharp knife for exploring
beneath rotting logs, make sure you aren’t bitten by something waiting in the soaking darkness.
Wear the right clothes. Tuck your tights into stockings and tie petticoats around knees,
purposefully designating legs, so nothing can be caught in the grasping, greedy branches. Walk
carefully. Hold hands. Pick a partner. Step where she steps.
Watch the ground carefully. Remember the legend of the boy who wouldn’t share his bread
while he walked with his friends through the woods. He had a full mouth every time they looked
back at him, so he spit out each guilty mouthful. The bread droppings left a trail. They
transformed into mushrooms, and that’s why when you find one there are always more nearby.
Once your basket is full, bring it to the village examiner. Some mushrooms are safe, but some
carry poisonous secrets. Some promise succor but silently wound. Some sing sweet songs but
echo with a hollow gong. All taste sweet and feathery on first bite, but some have dark pools in
their past. Bring home the good ones, but throw the rest into the stream and watch them float
away.
Finally, prepare your soup. Mix the mushrooms with the right broth. Thin-sliced for clear soup.
Thick-chunked for heavy stew. The mushrooms will take on the flavor of their companions. In
this way they make good neighbors. They don’t betray secrets. They keep what is given to them.
They protect what is beneath them. They preserve the family lineage deep below the earth.
.
Zary Fekete…
…grew up in Hungary.
…has a debut chapbook of short stories out from Alien Buddha Press and a novelette (In the Beginning) coming out from ELJ Publications.
…enjoys books, podcasts, and long, slow films. Twitter: @ZaryFekete