Casual Conversation: Mushroom Rain

The pressures of daily life sometimes make people forget beautiful memories, especially childhood memories associated with impoverished rural areas. People no longer notice the village roads covered with fallen leaves in the fading twilight; the quiet afternoons with only the faint sound of chickens; the deserted riverbanks evoking a lingering sense of separation; or the empty gardens after a rain shower, melancholic and desolate. There – in those gardens, around the end of the fifth lunar month, after the heavy rains and the return of sunshine – would stimulate the growth of a protein-rich plant that is "deliciously heavenly": termite mushrooms.

My grandmother said that she knew it was almost termite mushroom season because her body ached in an indescribable way (people sensitive to weather changes often experience this). Then, when there were gusts of "ghost wind," the kind of wind that felt chilly underfoot (some call it the orphan wind), she knew termite mushroom season was approaching.

In the folk tradition of foraging, nothing is as fascinating and dramatic as picking termite mushrooms (as the saying goes: "As eager as someone eager for mushrooms"). Professional termite mushroom pickers pay attention to its annual pattern: whatever time it sprouted last year, it will sprout again at the exact same time this year (according to the lunar calendar). Termite mushrooms always follow such a precise cycle. Folklore also says that those who are "faint-hearted" will never see termite mushrooms! Whether this conclusion is true or false depends on actual observation. Personally, in my life, I have never managed to pull up even the stem of a termite mushroom, let alone a whole mushroom with my bare hands.

There are some hilarious anecdotes surrounding the practice of picking termite mushrooms. Two neighbors planned to go mushroom picking together. The first person spotted a cluster of growing termite mushrooms but pretended to ignore it, walking straight ahead to deceive the second person, intending to return and claim them all for themselves. The second person also spotted the mushrooms but didn't stop to pick them, planning to eat them alone like the first. However, when they returned to carry out their plan, the third person had already picked all the mushrooms. Both went home dejected, having probably learned a valuable life lesson.

In the past, termite mushrooms weren't as rare as they are now, as almost every garden had some, whether a little or a lot. They are rare now because their natural habitat has been destroyed. Old, ancient gardens have been dug up to plant trendy crops, and biological and chemical fertilizers and pesticides are used indiscriminately, gradually eliminating the termite mounds.

Termite mushrooms can be prepared in many delicious ways: braised termite mushrooms, termite mushrooms cooked in a soup with Piper betel leaves and chili salt... Especially, grilled termite mushrooms wrapped in Piper betel leaves is a simple dish but incredibly delicious. Choose young, tender termite mushrooms, trim the stems, wash them clean, wrap them in young Piper betel leaves, and grill them over medium charcoal fire, turning them frequently. The Piper betel leaves absorb the heat slowly, initially releasing a gentle aroma. When the leaves are slightly charred, the mushrooms are also cooked, and the two aromas blend together, creating a wonderful fragrance. Peel off the Piper betel leaves, pick up the mushrooms by hand, and dip them into a plate of bright red chili salt – your taste buds will be in an uproar.

I'm just telling you this to whet your appetite, but termite mushrooms are now a luxury item; poor people shouldn't even dream of touching them, even though they used to be a common, rustic dish in the countryside.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-mua-nam-moi-185250809152309531.htm