Just like the first time we met him in a parking lot in
Forks, today we randomly ran into Joseph in another parking lot – this time, in
his stomping grounds of Gold Beach.
He invited us for dinner, the dinner he prepared for us the night
before. The one we didn’t show up
for… hippies. Thankfully, soup is
always better the second day. When
we arrived at his trailer, which was parked next to Anna’s in a little
community of travelers, we were almost immediately served porcini soup, made
with 3 pounds of fresh porcini, which was followed by the most delicious morel
pasta I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating. It was loaded with thin slices of ham and more whipping
cream than anyone deserves to eat in one sitting—not to mention all the love he
put into it! Joseph is such an
amazing and beautiful man. He
really has very little, but gives so much, like so many others we’ve met on
this journey.
The next day, Joseph took us on a little adventure into the
forest. He wanted to show us one
of his secret matsutake patches.
For those of you don’t know much about mushroom pickers, this is a rare
treat. No one gives away their
secret patches, especially matsutake given their market value. Moreover, this guy is a
professional. His patches are the
real deal. The road was wrecked by
clear-cutting, entire hillsides completely bare and soil was running off into
the water below. This wasn’t a
good sign, and Joseph remarked about how he wasn’t sure whether or not his
patch would even be there by next year at the rate he’d seen them cutting. Once we arrived, we found the pickings
to be only mediocre, although the hike was quite lovely. We each gathered about a pound of
matsis, as they’re called for short, a process that requires some digging into
the top layer of duff on the forest floor. I worry that, even without using rakes or other tools that
go down into the topsoil like some of the professional pickers, matsutake patches
get destroyed pretty easily. Once
the mushroom surfaces, it often cracks, leaving it less valuable than those
found underground. That said, the
mycelium gets disrupted and torn up a bit from the digging, and the mushrooms
never have the opportunity to sporelate.
Some might argue that this type of harvesting is completely sustainable,
but Joseph says he’s seen fewer and fewer mushrooms in this spot over the
years, and suggested that it could be due to over-harvesting.
When we arrived home, Joseph whipped up a huge pot of
roasted chicken with thinly sliced matsutake mushrooms for us, stuffing our
bellies like a good papa does. It
felt so comforting to be cooked for and cared for as he did for us, like being
home with mom and dad. I’ve really
grown to love this man, and his wonderful friend Anna. Even Joe Joe, his maniac dog has a
little spot in my heart.
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