Saturday, March 27, 2010

"It was full of little brown chips that looked like the shavings of some root. They were as light as feathers, and the most noticeable thing about them was their penetrating earthy odor... I bit off a corner of one of the chips I held in my hand, and chewed it tentatively. I never forgot the strange taste; though it was many years before I knew that those little brown shavings... were mushrooms."

-My √Āntonia by Willa Cather, 1918
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