Why wild mushrooms are highly prized, super-expensive—and free.

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Some years ago, a friend—a bear expert and writer—walked into the newspaper office where I worked, and announced that he had some chanterelles out in his truck. He explained that he had gathered the mushrooms from spots only he and the grizzlies knew about. He generously invited us out to grab some.

I walked out to the street expecting to pick out a small handful from a bag in his passenger seat. I was pleasantly shocked to see that his pickup’s cargo bed was filled a foot deep. I walked away with a full grocery bag.

That night, I took them to a dinner party, where another friend, a bird hunter, was preparing pheasant he had shot in some barley fields outside the town where we lived. I dumped the mushrooms out on a counter, cleaned them, sliced them, sautéed them in some butter and garlic, and served them with crackers as an appetizer. He roasted the pheasant and served it, flambé, over a bed of barley and roasted roots—carrots, parsnips and  rutabaga. It was a memorable party. The pheasant dish was really good, but everyone who was there still talks about the chanterelles.