A little is better than nothing
Having a friend is great. Having nine friends is even better. And meeting up with nine friends every year to pick mushrooms is absolutely priceless.
Krysia, our hostess, welcomed us, as every year, with delicious mushroom soup, Masurian cold cuts, smoked trout, and the best part - sauerkraut soup with ribs - she left for Saturday morning as a cure for a hangover.
Since our last mushroom picking trip, Benio had definitely matured, gaining some distance from people, and although he wasn't interested in spending the evening on my shoulder, he chose my bed as his bed.
Emilia drove onto the property with the grace of a rally driver, driving through larger puddles to the feigned amusement of the neighbors.
Piotr showed off his even more athletic figure shortly after completing another Iron Man, even though at his age records are usually broken during hours spent in front of the TV.
Ania brought a mushroom which is all the rage in Pomiechówek and an unrivaled pork neck with plums, perfect as a snack.
Kasia, as always, treated us to her unique, raucous, loud laugh that can save even the most unbearable joke.
Maciek, the life and soul of the party, who liked to laugh at himself almost as much as at others, never allowed the glass to remain empty.
Mirek did not allow himself to be drawn into overly heated conversations; instead, he enjoyed his food with distinction in pleasant company.
Joasia, who omitted bread and eggs from the shopping list but did not forget about a bottle of Glenmorangie, turned out to be a great companion for whisky.
Gosia, an invaluable organizer and manager of our trips, presenting larger and larger pendants every year, this time dazzled everyone with her pro-ecological jewelry made from coffee capsules.
After a short night and a late breakfast, we set off into the forest. Maybe not for holidaymakers, but for mushroom pickers the weather was ideal. It finally stopped raining, the sun was coming out from behind the clouds, and the temperature was approaching the twenties. It was hard to pick mushrooms in a group, so everyone went their own way. I quietly made my way through the undergrowth and discovered more clearings. There were few mushrooms. In two hours I didn't even collect half a bucket of saffron milk caps for the pan, boletus mushrooms for drying, and boletus mushrooms for hand-pressed papardelle. In the end, however, I was found and I left the forest with a full bucket, because true friends are known in times of need.
