I love mushroom foraging in Sheffield where finding a taste explosion is as simple as a walk in the woods

Sheffield is famous for its trees, and lots of trees means lots of prizes for mushroom foragers - it’s the perfect city to try this adventurous hobby.

As part of the #LoveYour campaign for The Star, we reporters were asked to think what we love about the city we report on, something we shout about to whoever will listen and we boast about to visitors.

“The mushrooms,” I thought immediately. Of all things, I love Sheffield because I get to go treasure hunting every autumn in our city’s big gorgeous parks and lush woods, all of which are only ever a 20 minute bus ride away.

Rules #1 - #99: Never munch on a hunch

Before I launch into a jittering rant about the joy of picking things out the dirt to eat and why I would encourage you to do the same, I must stress the first and last rule of mushroom hunting: “Never munch on a hunch.” And, “if in doubt, throw it out.”

Or, to quote the late great Terry Pratchett: “All fungi are edible. Some fungi are only edible once.”

Do NOT eat what you have not identified. Do NOT eat what you are uncertain off. Do NOT tell yourself ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

Here’s a fun anecdote about one of the deadliest mushrooms you could hope to find - the Destroying Angel. In its young form, the Angel looks very, very much like edible puffballs or even the field mushrooms you see in the supermarket. If you eat one, you won’t realise your mistake until between five and 24 hours later when your kidneys shut down.

Only in September this year, the BBC reported how three people in Jersey were poisoned after mistakenly eating the suitably named Death Cap, stating: “A piece the size of a coin is enough to kill an adult if eaten and there is no known antidote.”

There is much to learn and love about wild fungi - such as how less than a tenth of all species are properly good to eat, a huge number will send you for a hellish bout of food poisoning, and some you won’t realise have destroyed your liver until it’s too late. Others just taste bad.

If you take up this wonderful hobby, consider finding a foraging course to join or invite someone with practice for your first outing; do all your identifying yourself and get second opinions; if you’re sure of what you’ve found, research the cooking requirements for what you believe you have; and always seek help if you begin to feel ill.

“Never munch on a hunch.” And, “if in doubt, throw it out.”

With that said...

Mushroom foraging in Sheffield is an autumnal weekend joy

Sheffield was recently rated by Millets as having the highest number of walking trails in England, and I’m here to say one of the grandest ways to take it all in is to look for dinner while you’re at it.

I haven’t the pedigree or poetry to write with authority about Sheffield’s precious woods and treasured parks, how we all have the means to reach a local green space in just a 10 minute walk, how our means of taking even a short bus hop or train trip to a lusher side of the city is the envy of Southerners.

But with this hobby I’ve gained a greater appreciation for it all. And I’ve developed a real itch to get out into the wild as often as I can for the chance to sweep our leave-strewn woods and stride over fields to see what species of mushroom might be showing its colours today.

I’ve been foraging for three years, starting with when a family friend took me to Grenoside Woods in September 2021 to find Bay Boletes. The Bay’s party trick, and what makes it an excellent beginner mushroom, is it turns a funky intense blue within a second of being torn or cut. Once you see this for yourself, it’s already too late - you are now hooked, and will begin unconsciously looking for more.

Not just other boletes, but at this point you’ll now notice the splashes of colour you never took in before among littered leaves and fruiting off the trees around you - the orange pop of Velvet Shanks, the alien squick of Witch’s Black Butter on a dead birch, the handsome bread-cake appeal of a Penny Bun (if you’re lucky).

I recommend John Wright’s excellent ‘The Forager’s Calendar’ to start your learning and help the addiction settle in. My own copy is filthy at this point for all the times I’ve taken it out, and will give you a pantry of new names to hunt down on outings. It also teaches other habits, like only ever taking a third of what you find. That’s just the polite thing to do.

You’ll squint and smile the moment you first recognise a Jelly Ear running along an old branch, and it’s easy to get lost in a fantasy of easily discovering a envious trove of rare Horn of Plenty, a football-sized Giant Puffball, a treasure’s worth of Golden Chanterelles.

Even the deadly and inedible ones are fun to find. I remember getting on my belly to get a good look at This Olive Bulbous Thing I found in Rivelin Valley, only to conclude this was indeed my first big, fat Death Cap.

Then there are simpler pleasures like the bold, pretty and unmistakable red-and-white spots of the Fly Agaric (they look like the mushroom from Mario Bros), the faux innocence of Yellow Stainers, and, yes, the quiet potential of Destroying Angels. I even saw saw (or rather, smelled) my first Stinkhorn this year. They stink, but I’m grateful.

I’ve gone on enough. I’ve seen all these and more in Sheffield in these last three years, and as you go your catalogue of names you recognise in the forest only grows. And this isn’t even getting into the panoply more you can find in our neighbouring Peak District - I just wanted to shout Sheffield’s praises first.

And, best of all, I’ve had some great eats out of them. This September my friend Steve and I found the most picturesque, untouched scene of Penny Bens and Porcinis, after which I spent the rest of the evening in my kitchen. Most went into a vat of vegetarian chilli, another chunk I dehydrated in my oven to make a fat jar of umami-punching powder for the rest of the year, and the last I saved to make pasta as a reward. I’ll share this with you - I found them near where Dunge Brook meets the River Derwent, off Derwent Valley Way, close to the Old Plough Inn near Hathersage. I hope to see you there next September.

Please take a bite out of this wonderful hobby, and you’ll find endless reasons to appreciate Sheffield’s forests and walks around you.