Autumn Fires: Mushrooms, Apples, and the Work of Repair

Autumn has always been the season when the forest speaks loudest. The air sharpens, the leaves burn brighter, and mushrooms rise from the damp earth like secrets waiting to be uncovered. At Heirloom Fire, we’ve long worked with wild fungi in our menus, but this season feels different. Not just because of what the land is giving us, but because of what we’re beginning to cultivate ourselves - an effort that ties directly to our core belief: respect the land, complete the circle, repair what we can.

Mushrooms in the Wild

The fall woods of New England offer some of the most striking mushrooms of the year. Chicken of the woods, hen of the woods, chanterelles — each with their own flavor, texture, and ritual. These wild gifts remind us that mushrooms are not just food, but part of the living system that breaks down, rebuilds, and balances the forest floor. To work with them is to acknowledge their role in repair, even before they reach the plate.

Cultivating Our Own

Years ago, I started experimenting with oyster mushrooms but lacked a proper setup to keep the project going. Now we’re returning to that work with a full system in place. What makes this different is our choice of substrate: spent coffee grounds from our events and dried Japanese knotweed shoots. Coffee grounds are abundant, rich, and otherwise wasted. Knotweed, on the other hand, is a destructive invasive plant choking waterways and displacing native growth across the East Coast. By drying and using it as substrate, we’re literally turning an ecological problem into nourishment. It’s our way of doing our part — repairing what’s been broken, taking responsibility for the “sins of our fathers,” and finding purpose in the work.

A Note on Knotweed

For those unfamiliar, Japanese knotweed looks harmless — tall bamboo-like stalks with heart-shaped leaves — but it’s one of the most aggressive invasive species in North America. It tears through foundations, outcompetes native plants, and takes decades to eradicate. To use it as mushroom substrate is to flip the story: giving this invasive plant a final, useful role.

Mushroom Conserva

In our pantry, mushrooms take on another life through conserva. This week, we have just a few jars left of Chicken of the Woods Mushroom Conserva. Last night, we used it in the first course for a wedding in picturesque Hancock, Massachusetts.

The dish was cavatelli with duck confit, wild apples, and mushroom conserva. As the duck breasts turned slowly around the fire, we watched the landscape transform around us — greens fading into deep reds and fiery yellows. It felt like cooking inside an oil painting, alive in real time.

That conserva is available now at The Forager’s Pantry. And soon, our homegrown oyster mushrooms will find their way into

conserva jars too, closing the circle of wild, cultivated, and preserved.

Recipe: Duck Confit Cavatelli with Mushroom Conserva and Apples

INGREDIENTS

• 1 lb fresh cavatelli pasta

• 2 duck legs, cured and confit-cooked until tender

• 1 cup Heirloom Fire Mushroom Conserva

• 2 medium wild apples, diced

• 2 shallots, minced

• 2 tbsp duck fat

• ½ cup dry white wine

• Fresh thyme, salt, and pepper

METHOD

1. Shred duck meat from the confit legs.

2. In a wide pan, warm duck fat and sauté shallots until translucent.

3. Add apples and cook until lightly caramelized.

4. Stir in mushroom conserva and duck meat, deglaze with white wine.

5. Boil cavatelli until al dente, then toss directly into the pan with sauce.

6. Finish with fresh thyme, cracked pepper, and a drizzle of conserva oil.

   
   

It’s a dish that carries the season in every bite: earthy mushrooms, tender duck, bright apples, and the warmth of fire.

Lion’s Mane and Nootropics

Alongside oysters, we’ve begun cultivating lion’s mane mushrooms, not only for food but for future projects in our non-alcoholic spirits line. Lion’s mane is celebrated for its role as a natural nootropic — a substance that supports cognitive function, memory, and focus. For centuries, it’s been used in Eastern medicine, and today it’s studied for its neurological benefits.

We’re working on two spirits right now: a bourbon-inspired profile and a botanical gin-inspired spirit. Lion’s mane will play a role in these, adding depth of flavor and a subtle clarity of mind. A drink that nourishes body and thought.

Apples by the Fire

This past weekend’s property in Hancock was scattered with wild apple trees, their fruit abundant. Apples, too, are part of the season’s ritual. Beyond cider, sauce, or pie, one of my favorite ways to prepare them is simply on the fire. Split and grilled, they take on smoke, caramel, and depth — a perfect counterpoint to creamy cheese and charred almonds on a board.

But apples also belong in dessert. For this, we turn to the Heirloom Apple Galette with Bay Leaf Ice Cream.

Recipe: Fire-Baked Heirloom Apple Galette

with Bay Leaf Ice Cream

FOR THE GALETTE

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 1 tbsp sugar

• ½ tsp salt

• ¾ cup cold butter, cubed

• 5–6 heirloom apples, thinly sliced

• 2 tbsp raw sugar for sprinkling

METHOD

1. Mix flour, sugar, and salt. Cut in butter until coarse crumbs. Add ice water until dough just comes together.

2. Chill dough, then roll into a rustic circle.

3. Arrange apple slices in the center, fold edges over, sprinkle with raw sugar.

4. Bake in cast iron over a fire until crust is golden and apples tender.

FOR THE BAY LEAF ICE CREAM

• 2 cups heavy cream

• 1 cup whole milk

• ¾ cup sugar

• 4 egg yolks

• 3 fresh bay leaves

• Heat cream, milk, sugar, and bay leaves until steaming.

• Temper egg yolks with hot liquid, then cook into a custard.

• Chill, strain, and churn.

The result: flaky pastry, smoky-sweet apples, and ice cream perfumed with the herbal, almost savory note of bay. A dessert that feels both ancient and new.

Closing Thought

Autumn is about change, decay, and rebirth and mushrooms are its perfect symbol. Whether growing wild in the woods, cultivated on knotweed and coffee grounds, or preserved in conserva, they remind us that cycles matter. That sustainability isn’t a buzzword but a way of repairing, of carrying forward.

This season, we’ll keep cooking with the forest, preserving what’s fleeting, and cultivating what’s possible - fire, fungi, and fruit woven into memory.

Til' next time,