Agaricus campestris (True Meadow Mushroom).

The common meadow mushroom varies considerably, but, “common to all are a fleshy pileus, which is sometimes smooth, sometimes scaly, in colour white, or of different shades of tawny, fuliginous, or brown; gills free, at first pallid, then flesh-coloured, then pink, next purple, at length tawny-black; the stem white, full, firm, varying in shape, furnished with a white persistent ring; the spores brown-black, and a volva which is very fugacious.”—Badham’s Esculent Funguses of England.

There is scarcely any one in England who does not feel himself competent to decide on the genuineness of a mushroom; its pink gills easily distinguish it from a kindred fungus, Ag. arvensis, the gills of which are of a flesh-coloured grey, and out of the pickings of ten thousand hands, a mistake is of rare occurrence; and yet no fungus presents itself under such a variety of forms, or such singular diversities of aspect! The inference is plain; less discrimination than that employed to distinguish this would enable anyone who should take the trouble to recognise at a glance many of those esculent species, which every spring and autumn fill our plantations and pastures with plenteousness. Neither is this left to be a mere matter of inference; it is corroborated in a singular manner by what takes place at Rome; there, whilst many hundred baskets of what we call toadstools are carried home for the table, almost the only one condemned to be thrown into the Tiber, by the inspector of the fungus market, is our own mushroom; indeed, in such dread is this held in the Papal States, that no one knowingly would touch it. “It is reckoned one of the fiercest imprecations,” writes Professor Sanguinetti, “amongst our lower orders, infamous for the horrible nature of their oaths, to pray that one may die of a Pratiolo;” and although it has been some years registered among the esculent funguses of Milan and Pavia (on the authority of Vittadini), it has not yet found its way into those markets. Mr. Worthington G. Smith, in his “Mushrooms and Toad-stools,” qualifies this statement of Dr. Badham.

Agaricus campestris is not generally appreciated in Italy, and indeed is seldom eaten, and never appears in the markets, for the simple reason that there would be no sale for it. There is an edict in existence ordering certain fungi to be thrown into the Tiber, but it is now, and has long been altogether effete; and whilst there is an abundance of A. CÆsareus (avowedly the most delicious of all fungi) for the markets of Italy, it is not to be expected the consumption will be given up for another and little known species.

The Modes of Cooking this Species.—“The mushroom, having the same proximate principles as meat, requires, like meat, to be cooked before these become changed. The Ag. campestris may be prepared in a great variety of ways: they give a fine flavour to soup, and greatly improve beef-tea; where arrowroot and weak broths are distasteful to the patient, the simple seasoning of a little ketchup will frequently form an agreeable change. Some roast them, basting with melted butter and white (French) wine sauce. In patties and vols-au-vent they are equally excellent; in fricassees, as everybody knows, they are the important element of the dish. Roques recommends in all cases the removal of the gills before dressing, which though it secures a more elegant-looking entremets, is only flattering the eye at the expense of the palate.”—Badham.

Agaricus arvensis (Horse-Mushroom).

“Pileus fleshy, obtusely conico-campanulate, then expanded, at first floccose, then smooth, even, or rivulose; stem hollow, with a floccose pith; ring broad, pendulous, double, the outer split in rays; gills free, wider in front, at first dirty white, then brown, tinged with pink.”—Berkeley’s Outlines of British Fungology.

“This species is very nearly allied to the meadow mushroom, and frequently grows with it, but it is coarser, and has not the delicious flavour. It is usually much larger, often attaining enormous dimensions; it turns a brownish yellow as soon as broken or bruised. The top in good specimens is smooth, and snowy white; the gills are not the pure pink of the meadow mushroom, but dirty brownish white, ultimately becoming brown-black. It has a big, ragged, floccose ring, and the pithy stem is inclined to be hollow. It is the species exposed for sale in Covent Garden Market. Indeed, after knowing the market for many years, I have rarely seen any other species there; when the true mushroom, however, is there, it is frequently mingled with horse mushrooms, which seems to show that the dealers do not know one from the other. In the wet days of autumn, children, idlers, and beggars go a few miles from town into the meadows to gather whatever they can find in the mushroom line; they then bring their dirty stock to market, where it is sold to fashionable purchasers; stale, vapid, and without taste—unless it be a bad one.

“When young and fresh, the horse mushroom is a most desirable addition to the bill of fare: it yields an abundant gravy, and the flesh is firm and delicious. It is a valuable plant when freshly gathered, but when stale it becomes tough and leathery, and without aroma or juice.

“There is a curious, large, brown, hairy variety, of rather uncommon occurrence, similar to the hairy variety of the meadow mushroom, the A. villaticus of Dr. Badham. It is a splendid form, but, I think, very rare. I have only seen it once.

“Many country-folk readily distinguish the meadow from the horse mushroom, and show antipathy to the latter, although they are always willing to put it into the jar as one of the ingredients of ketchup. Opinions appear to differ greatly regarding the excellence of this species. Mr. Penrose writes:—‘I think young, and especially button, specimens of this very indigestible; until they are well opened out, they are unfit for use.’ Such, however, I must say, is not my experience of button specimens.

“There is a strong odour attached both to the fungus and the spawn, the ground just below the surface being frequently white with the latter; or if horse-dung be kicked aside in a rich meadow frequented by graminivorous animals, the earth will frequently present a snowy whiteness from the spawn of this species, from which the young individuals may be seen springing up.

“I once saw a sheep eat a large specimen with great apparent gusto, although the fungus was full of maggots.”—Worthington G. Smith.