Countrymen, lend me your ears

There are plenty of beneficial and health-giving funghi out there if you take the time to look. One of the most recognizable, and therefore surely desirable, is the funghi known as Jew’s or Sow’s Ear. Once located, the reason why is clear. The cold, soft, velvety texture is uncannily like an ear and always a source of intrigue, passed around friends with exclamations of delight and disgust.

A plate of jelly ear fungusAbundant in summer and autumn, when it is constantly respawning young and tender, it can be found during all seasons, only it is liable to be dried up and tougher. Simple soaking in water for an hour will restore it to its supple form, as the photo shows. Jew’s Ear grows on dead elder, with some citing its name as a derivative of Judas’ Ear (who hung himself on elder). Pick sparingly from a wide selection of trees to ensure no impact to the ‘plant’.

In the east, Jew’s Ear (known as Wood Ear in China and Japan) is much prized for its medicinal benefits. Hailed as an anti-inflammatory, it is eaten to relieve tonsillitis, swelling, etc, but is also regarded as a powerful anti-carcinogen, used to prevent, treat and stop tumours.

In the west, the influx of eastern restaurants, thai in particular, means that you have probably eaten it before, though you may not have recognised it. Chains like Wagamamas and Busaba use Jew’s Ear in their soups, but it takes on a black translucent nature when cooked.

Building igloos

The more astute amongst you will have noticed the initials ‘UK’ in our site address, yet this post is not about dear old Blighty, but the towering heights of the French Alps.

By the time we were fortunate enough to finalise the book deal, the perfect snowy weather that paralysed the country for so long had dissipated, and showed no sign of return. Our deadline is august 2011, so we had to look elsewhere.

Thankfully help was at hand in the form of the fabulous folk at Skiology. They agreed to put us up for a couple of days in one of their beautiful chalets in Les Carroz so we could build an igloo or two. And wow, did we strike it lucky with the timing! As you can see, we found an abundance of perfect snow on and around Flaine, a fantastic mountain under the peak of Mont Blanc. The French army had even been around the previous week building their rather inferior (if we do say so ourselves) snow-based dwellings.

As well as discovering the sheer joy of building igloos, we found out that nothing prepares you for a day on the mountain like a traditional fondue. Or should we say, nothing requires you to climb a mountain more than gorging on melted cheese and wine for a few hours.