Ode to the mushroom

Today we're having fried mushrooms

Those that grow like big white brooms
Hanging off the tall tree trunks
In florets full of creamy tufts

I don't know them very well
I can't guess they're edible
So ours are grown in holes in sacks
Filled with mulch from big haystacks

On Pleurotus ostreatus type
Is what the Greeks prefer to dine
I like to buy them at the market
Where they're stored in big brown baskets

After dusting them just slightly
Chop them up haphazardly
Chop the stalks off if you please
They're too tough for granny's teeth

They come out looking like triangles
That makes them easier to handle
Others say that these small parts
Have the shape of small love hearts

Dredge them in a little flour
Heat the pan with oil full power
Shake the excess flour off them
Then just toss them in the saucepan

Let them fry up very well
When they're ready, they will smell
Of forest green and timber dark
That's when you should pull them up

Place them on absorbent paper
To get rid of excess larder
Have the salt and pepper ready
A little shake is all that's needy

Fetch the horta and the feta
Ready waiting at the table
Now enjoy your little feast
A glass of wine is all you need!

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