Letter 3 - From Forest Floors to Future Tech
Mycelium, soundscapes, and the transformative potential of fungi.
Hello there.
How have you been? Did you go to the mall last weekend? (I had to ask.)
Today, I have a one-track mind; if that sounds dirty, that is intentional.
You see, I want to discuss mushrooms and fungi today, and they don’t necessarily grow in the most pristine places. I could throw in a lotus grows in the mud, quote here, but I shall let the fungi do the talking.
Boreal forests are vital to the planet; in them, endophytes - fungi - hold the key to the health of the forests and the earth.
And while this is fascinating in itself, you might also enjoy this video that talks more about fungi in the most incongruous of places- the motherboard. You might be familiar with the World Wide Web, but what about the Wood Wide Web? Intrigued?
When a team in Bristol found that a slime mould could “solve tasks of computational geometry, image processing, logic, and arithmetics,” they endevoured to replicate the process with something more stable and readily available.
Enter the fungi family with stalwarts such as Enoki, Oyster, and the Ghost fungus. These fungi are remarkable stuff, and because they communicate with each other using the Wood Wide Web, they can do incredible things.
Learn more here about the process of integrating mushrooms into computers here. It is not an exaggeration to say, like a news headline does, that mushrooms are the future of AI.
What does all this mean for us? From better environment monitoring to more exciting wearable tech options to actually living in ‘smart’ cities- the possibilities are endless. Of course, there are challenges, and overcoming them will be the next step to an exciting future.
You know how it is when you’re watching one video on YouTube, and you go to the next, and then it’s four hours later? That’s what I felt when I started delving into this somewhat mysterious world of mushrooms.
Get this: A leather alternative to the hoof mushroom holds much promise. Mycotextiles rely on mycelium and its structural integrity, which contains strength, mass, and softness—all great qualities for creating leather. Another world, that of fashion, conquered by mycelium.
All this talk makes me ask a question. What was your first introduction to mushrooms? Mine was in the mess parties at the Indian Air Force camps I grew up in, where the mushroom dish was a big hit, not to mention one of the two choices available to vegetarians (the other being paneer).
There is another local delicacy where I live- the kalan, the uber-popular mushroom street food that is an unreal red, dredged in maida and masala, and deep fried.
I also recall bowls of a hearty, filling, mushroom soup that my friend and I devoured after a long day of conducting an intra-school literary event.
What mushroom memories is my letter bringing up for you, dear reader?
Mushrooms in food are not a new or urban phenomenon. India’s tribal communities consume more than 280 of the 2,000 species of wild edible mushrooms found worldwide. From a stirfry of brinjal and uyen to a pan-roast of split gill or a black wood-ear mushroom stir-fry, the sheer variety of dishes mushrooms lend themselves to is astounding.
Since I mentioned the soup, here’s a recipe for it. It’s bold enough to feature wild mushrooms and cautious enough to start small. You may also enjoy mushroom pies, tarts, risottos, pastas, and biriyanis. Now that the letter has whetted the appetite, I would like to introduce you to another tantalising morrel… er, I mean, a morsel of news from us.
All of us at Mycelium are delighted to be working towards something really exciting. Here is a clue: it involves some of the most exciting minds we have right now.
I did say tantalising, so that's all I am going to say now. But do watch out for this news in our next letter.
I’d like to leave you with this beautiful poem that I discovered.
What I Would Like to Grow in My Garden by Katherine Riegel
Peonies, heavy and pink as ’80s bridesmaid dresses
and scented just the same. Sweet pea,
because I like clashing smells and the car
I drove in college was named that: a pea-green
Datsun with a tendency to backfire.
Sugar snap peas, which I might as well
call memory bites for how they taste like
being fourteen and still mourning the horse farm
I had been uprooted from at ten.
Also: sage, mint, and thyme—the clocks
of summer—and watermelon and blue lobelia.
Lavender for the bees and because I hate
all fake lavender smells. Tomatoes to cut
and place on toasted bread for BLTs, with or without
the b and the l. I’d like, too, to plant
the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace,
and for it to bloom even when it’s hot,
and also lilies, so I have something left
to look at when the rabbits come.
They always come. They are
always hungry. And I think I am done
protecting one sweet thing from another.
From the psychedelic bunch at Mycelium, till next time, cheers, and bye for now.