POTSDAM, Germany: Wolfgang Bivour carefully emptied a basket of freshly collected mushrooms onto a forest floor covered with fallen autumn leaves. Brown-capped porcini and bay boletes lay beside slimy purple brittlegills and honey-colored armillaria – and, among them, the lethal green death caps.
Bivour, one of Germany’s most famous fungi connoisseurs, described the different species just collected in an oak and beech forest on the outskirts of Potsdam in eastern Germany. Surrounding him were 20 people who listened attentively, among them university students, retirees and a Chinese couple with their 5-year-old daughter.
Across Germany, the traditional forest art of mushroom hunting is enjoying a revival, fed by the coronavirus pandemic restrictions, which pushed people from cramped apartments into forests, and by the growing popularity of the vegan lifestyle. A growing interest in the use of medicinal fungi is also playing a role.
While people in rural areas have gone mushroom picking for ages, city dwellers are now also discovering its joys.
Mushroom hunting was a necessity for many Germans in the difficult years after World War II, when people scoured forests for anything edible. But when West Germany’s economy started booming in the 1950s, and economic conditions also improved in East Germany, many turned away from the practice.
In recent years, images of mushrooms have gone viral on social media, and a hobby once considered uncool has become a chic lifestyle pastime.
Guided tours on mushroom hunting are hugely popular
Bivour, a 75-year-old retired meteorologist, said the tour he led on a recent, drizzly autumn day wasn’t “primarily about filling your basket – although it’s always nice to find something for the dinner table.”
Instead, he said, it was “about teaching people about the importance of mushrooms in the ecosystem and, of course, about biodiversity.”
Bivour is sometimes sought out by hospitals when they have cases of suspected mushroom poisonings.
He has also been giving mushroom tours in the Potsdam region southwest of Berlin for more than five decades.
When the members of his group showed him mushrooms, he identified them with their German and sometimes their Latin names. He spoke about their healing powers or toxicity, gave suggestions on how to prepare some of them, offered historical anecdotes. He invited them to smell and taste the ones that were not poisonous.
Karin Flegel, the managing director of Urania, a Potsdam institution that organizes Bivour’s tours, said his classes are filling up instantly.
“We’ve noticed a huge increase in interest in mushrooms,” she said.
Bivour said he, too, had noticed the surge of interest in his longtime hobby. He began sharing his best finds on Instagram and Facebook, has written books on the subject, and even hosts a popular podcast, the Pilz-Podcast. Pilz is the German word for mushroom.
Fears of poisonous mushrooms
Many people are embracing their new passion with caution, afraid of accidentally picking and eating poisonous mushrooms.
While the poisonous red-capped, white-dotted fly agaric can be easily identified, the very toxic green death cap is sometimes confused with the common button mushroom, or champignon, which is the most widely sold mushroom in stores across the country.
Each year, several people die after eating death caps, often immigrants from the Middle East who are not familiar with the local mushroom varieties.
Tim Köster, a 25-year-old university student from Berlin who joined the excursion with his girlfriend, said he had never foraged for mushrooms as a child, and is often satisfied with the white button mushrooms in the stores. But he also wants to be able to find and prepare his own porcini mushrooms – considered the most popular delicacy among Germany’s more than 14,000 different kinds of mushrooms.
While porcini are often served in risotto or pasta in Italian cuisine, in Germany porcini, as well as bay boletes, are often fried in butter and eaten on toasted sourdough bread with salt and pepper.
As Koster stood amid an abundance of yellow and red fall foliage, he said that the tour was a good start. But asked if he was ready to start collecting mushrooms on his own, he said: “I don’t dare yet.”
Instead, he said he considers picking mushrooms and taking them to an expert to verify that they are edible. Experts often offer their knowledge on fall weekends at markets or community colleges where people can bring their bounty and make sure they haven’t accidentally pick poisonous pieces.
Margit Reimann, a 42-year-old who participated in the tour with her mother, said she was surprised to learn how many edible mushroom varieties there are.
But despite her newly acquired knowledge, she plans to stick to the familiar ones – porcini, butter mushrooms, slippery jacks and bay boletes – when going out to the woods with her kids. During the excursion she learned that colors and grain patterns can’t always be clearly determined.
“I think that if enjoyed in moderation, many of them would be a culinary experience, but I still don’t trust myself,” she said.
An old tradition finds new life as Germans flock to forests to collect mushrooms
https://arab.news/z3bbk
An old tradition finds new life as Germans flock to forests to collect mushrooms
- Across Germany, the traditional forest art of mushroom hunting is enjoying a revival, fed by the coronavirus pandemic restrictions
- While people in rural areas have gone mushroom picking for ages, city dwellers are now also discovering its joys
‘Right to enjoy culture’: Prisoner sues Australian state for ban on Vegemite
- Andre McKechnie, serving a life sentence for murder, takes his battle for the salty, sticky, brown byproduct of brewing beer to the Supreme Court of Victoria
MELBOURNE, Australia: A prisoner is challenging an Australian state’s ban on prisoners eating Vegemite, claiming in a court suit that withholding the polarizing yeast-based spread that most of the nation revers as an unfairly maligned culinary icon breaches his human right to “enjoy his culture as an Australian.”
Andre McKechnie, 54, serving a life sentence for murder, took his battle for the salty, sticky, brown byproduct of brewing beer to the Supreme Court of Victoria, according to documents the court registry released to The Associated Press on Tuesday.
While more than 80 percent of Australian households are estimated to have a jar of Vegemite in their pantries, inmates in all 12 prisons in Victoria are going without as the national favorite for smearing thinly across breakfast toast is considered contraband.
McKecknie is suing Victoria’s Department of Justice and Community Safety and the agency that manages the prisons, Corrections Victoria. The case is scheduled for trial next year.
Prisoner argues Vegemite ban breaches Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities
McKechnie is seeking a court declaration that the defendants denied him his right under the Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act to “enjoy his culture as an Australian.”
The Act guarantees “All persons with a particular cultural, religious, racial or linguistic background” the right to “enjoy their culture, to declare and practice their religion and to use their language.”
He also wants a declaration that the defendants breached the Corrections Act by “failing to provide food adequate to maintain” McKechnie’s “well-being.”
He wants the court to order the decision to ban Vegemite to be “remade in accordance with the law.”
Vegemite has been banned from Victorian prisons since 2006, with Corrections Victoria saying it “interferes with narcotic detection dogs.”
Inmates used to smear packages of illicit drugs with Vegemite in the hope that the odor would distract the dogs from the contraband.
Vegemite also contains yeast, which is banned from Victorian prisons because of its “potential to be used in the production of alcohol,” the contraband list says.
The Australian favorite since 1923 considered an acquired taste
Manufactured in Australia since 1923 as an alternative to Britain’s Marmite, Vegemite was long marketed as a source of vitamin B for growing children.
The spread is beloved by a majority of Australians, but typically considered an acquired taste at best by those who weren’t raised on it.
The last US president to visit Australia, Barack Obama, once said: “It’s horrible.”
Australian band Men at Work aroused international curiosity about the yeast-based spread when they mentioned a “Vegemite sandwich” in their 1980s hit “Down Under.”
The band’s lead singer Colin Hay once accused American critics of laying Vegemite on too thick, blaming a “more is more” US culture.
It’s a favorite on breakfast toast and in cheese sandwiches, with most fans agreeing it’s best applied sparingly. Australian travelers bemoan Vegemite’s scarcity overseas.
The Australian government intervened in April when Canadian officials temporarily prevented a Toronto-based cafe from selling Vegemite in jars and on toast in a dispute media branded as “Vegemite-gate.” Canadians relented and allowed the product to be sold despite its failure to comply with local regulations dealing with food packaging and vitamin fortification.
The Department of Justice and Community Safety and Corrections Victoria declined to comment on Tuesday. Government agencies generally maintain it is not appropriate to comment on issues that are before the courts.
Queensland prisons also ban Vegemite, but Australia’s most populous state, New South Wales, does not. Other Australian jurisdictions have yet to tell AP on Tuesday where they stand on the spread.
Victims of crime brand Vegemite lawsuit frivolous and offensive
Victims of crime advocate and lawyer John Herron said it was a frivolous lawsuit and was offensive to victims’ families.
“As victims, we don’t have any rights. We have limited if any support. It’s always about the perpetrator, and this just reinforces that,” said Herron, whose daughter Courtney Herron, was beaten to death in a Melbourne park in 2019. Her killer was found not guilty of murder by reason of mental impairment.
“It’s not a case of Vegemite or Nutella or whatever it may be. It’s an extra perk that is rubbing our faces in the tragedy that we’ve suffered,” Herron added.
McKechnie is currently held at maximum-security Port Phillip Prison. He was 23 years old when he stabbed to death wealthy Gold Coast property developer Otto Kuhne in Queensland state in 1994.
He was sentenced to life for murder and transferred a decade later from the Queensland to the Victorian prison system.
He wrote last year that he spent eight years out on parole in Victoria before he decided that the system “had done more damage than good” and opted to return to prison.
McKechnie’s lawyers didn’t respond to a request for comment on Tuesday.










