The night of the first frost I came home from the market, unloaded, and then in the dark began pulling big sheets of frost cloth over the plants I hoped to save. The wind whipped around me, tearing at the edges of the cloth as I scrambled to secure it down. The campers who had been staying with me had left to shelter from the cold, my helper Andrew was away for the week, and I had the feeling I was all alone at sea under the bright starry sky. The wall-like edges of my garden looked like dark waves in the night, and the frost cloth billowed like a sail.

In just those two cold, cold nights – first the restless, windy one, and then the perfectly still, deeply cold one – the season shifted. All the bright autumn flowers, the long summer vines, and the exhausted eggplants withered up. And now the summer garden is gone and packed away like old holiday decorations. The dried, brown plants are tugged out and stacked in piles to compost, the long trellises rolled up and put away. And the garden is open and wide and fresh again, ready for planting.

The cold has made the mushroom logs I worked so hard to plug last year, on top of everything else I was doing, start blossoming with silver mushrooms. I had scrambled around to make these logs, and was feeling discouraged by how many turkey trail mushrooms ended up colonizing them. Last week I was just thinking about giving up and using them as borders for garden beds and starting over with fresh logs, when I saw the little silver buds coming out.

It feels so deeply satisfying to have your work come around to the harvest. The hard work and toil, the uncertainty and blind hopes all forgotten in the gift of the harvest.

Especially with the oyster mushrooms, as they were somewhat experimental. The customer service for the company I bought the plug spawn from was not certain about growing the oyster mushrooms here on laurel oak logs, but they had gotten an email from a customer in Florida claiming success before. These logs have done surprisingly well for me. This year I have enough mushrooms to tuck into my CSA shares – maybe some to bring to the market, and the unintentional turkey tail mushrooms are an extra, unforseen abundance.

When you depend on the abundance of the earth, you really feel the love there,  giving in unexpected ways. My table is full of drying turkey tail mushrooms, and we are enjoying this lovely soup! I love the way it’s so creamy and brings out the flavor of the oyster mushrooms.

CREAMY OYSTER MUSHROOM SOUP

Butter
1/2 lb oyster mushrooms
Salt
1 small onion, chopped
1 cup diced potatoes
White pepper
2 cups water or broth
2 cups of creamy milk

Garnishes: Black pepper, chopped parsley, or chopped garlic chives.

1. Brown mushrooms in a pan in the butter. I use a generous amount of butter here because the mushrooms soak it up and don’t brown properly if the pan is dry. Add more butter if it looks dry. Season them with salt to taste as they cook – it draws out water and helps them brown. Set them aside.

2. Melt more  butter and let it brown slightly. Fry onion until clear.

3.  Add potatoes and cook 2-3 minutes.  Add 2 cups of water or broth.  Salt to taste. Add white pepper. Blend soup.

4. Whisk in the creamy milk. Taste test for salt. Stir in the browned mushrooms. Serve with one or more of the garnishes!