Chapter Fifteen: The Forager

1. SERIOUS PLAY
Pollan was quite scared to go hunting for the meat and gathering the fungi for his last meal. He was a novice hunter and was raised on the idea that natural berries and mushrooms were poisonous. But why go through all the trouble, especially since the forager food chain represents a viable way for us to eat at this point in time. It's a wonder we ever left the healthy lifestyle of hunting and gathering for backbreaking agricultural work--that led to both blessings and consequences (it is estimated that typical hunter gatherers worked less, were healthier and lived longer thein agriculturalists). But Pollan wanted this meal, especially so he could take a more direct responsibility for the killing of animals (boo). "And this, I suppose, points to what I was really after in taking up hunting and gathering: to see what it'd be like to prepare and eat a meal in full consciousness of what was involved." Pollan wanted to feel closer to the Earth, and to our history, which I completely understand. The killing of animals, not so much.
2. MY FORAGER VIRGIL

Meet Angelo, Pollan's Forager Virgil

"What I needed, I realized, was my own personal foraging Virgil, a fellow not only skilled in the arts of hunting and gathering (and butchering), but also well versed in the flora, fauna and fungi of Northern California, about which I knew approximately nothing." And Pollan found his Virgil, a burly Italian named Angelo Garro with the obsession of getting and preparing food. And he (somewhat skeptically) said he would help Pollan. All he needed was his license and to learn how to shoot. Already he felt in over his head.


3. HUNTER ED.

A chanterelle?

After several months, Pollan finally had his hunter's license. But the long months of wait changed Pollan; every walk in the woods was viewed as a grocery store full of potential food. He noticed the wild mustard and the miner's lettuce that lined the forest floor. Blackberries, quail and flowers filled his view. But when it came to mushrooms, Pollan was still quite unsure. The first chanterelle, a big, yellow, vase-shaped mushroom made Pollan question himself. Was he sure enough that this was edible and not poisonous. But the desire to test himself was not as great as his anxiety. "I didn't realize it at the time, but I had impaled myself that afternoon on the horns of the omnivore's dilemma."