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Mushrooming was a part of my childhood’s annual autumn ritual; foraging being integral to the genetic makeup of most Scandinavians and East Europeans. For a few brief weeks, the fungi were eagerly sought, hunted and consumed in large quantities.
Despite the purported magical properties and olfactory delights of those musky smelling specimens, they never fired off any of my culinary or poetic synapses. For me the memories are instead of fire in the belly and the painful production of large quantities of methane and related gasses. Darwin may have had an explanation for this anomaly!
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