Here's my latest column for the newspaper:
Chicken of the woods is one of the most recognizable wild mushrooms in Appalachia — its neon hues standing out like a burst of sunlight on the forest floor.
Scientifically known as “Laetiporus sulphureus,” this striking fungus grows in large, overlapping shelves that range from deep pumpkin orange to pale, buttery yellow.
Its ruffled edges and layered form can make it look almost ornamental, but for seasoned foragers, it’s a signal of something far more valuable — a hearty, seasonal ingredient that has been part of Appalachian food traditions for generations.
Chicken of the woods typically grows on hardwoods like oak, cherry, and beech, most often emerging from dead trunks and stumps. Sometimes, it will even appear on fallen logs or weakened living trees, continuing to fruit for years from the same spot.
The name “chicken of the woods” comes from its firm texture and mild, savory flavor, which many compare to chicken. Younger mushrooms are tender and almost juicy, making them ideal for cooking, while older mushrooms can become tough and woody, better suited for making broth or flavoring a dish rather than being the main event.
In Appalachia, chicken of the woods appears most often from late summer through early autumn, though in especially wet and warm years it can pop up in spring. Alongside ramps in April, morels in May, and pawpaws in September, it holds a place in the forager’s seasonal calendar — a mental map of when and where to find nature’s best offerings.
The mushroom can be sautéed in butter, fried to a crisp, roasted to bring out its natural umami, or simmered in soups and stews for a deep, savory flavor. In Appalachian kitchens, cooks have long treated it like poultry, breading and pan-frying it for sandwiches, tucking it into flaky pot pies, or serving it alongside garden vegetables like green beans, squash, and potatoes. Its faintly lemony flavor works beautifully in pasta dishes, stir-fries, and even tacos. For vegetarian cooks, chicken of the woods can take center stage as a meat substitute; its dense, chewy texture holds up well to hearty preparations and doesn’t disappear into a dish the way softer vegetables might.
Beyond its taste, chicken of the woods is an emblem of Appalachian resourcefulness — making use of what’s available, when it’s available. Foraging in the region has always been about more than just food; it’s a tradition that ties people to the land, passing down plant and mushroom knowledge from one generation to the next.
In the forest, finding a flush of chicken of the woods can feel like uncovering buried treasure. The bright color draws the eye from a distance, and the satisfaction of spotting it is often matched by the anticipation of what it will become in the kitchen. Whether fried and drizzled with local honey, tucked into a creamy casserole, or paired with biscuits and white gravy, it embodies the spirit of Appalachian cooking — rooted in the land, unpretentious, and always ready to feed a crowd.
Disclaimer: While its striking appearance makes chicken of the woods relatively easy to spot, experts advise that mushroom identification should always be done with care. Foraging guides, local mycology clubs, and experienced harvesters can help confirm species and ensure safe preparation.
