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  1. images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ4g-cEC13T5D1iu8a-C1i
    Mountain Home Magazine

    Fungus Amungus
    Mountain Home Magazine
    “One day when I was six years old my father had come home with a bag of morel mushrooms that a coworker had given him,” he recalls. “To my six-year-old eyes, they looked like the last thing a young boy would want to eat. After a quick fry in butter ...

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  2. Ethnic Fermented Foods Help Preserve Some Bacteria and Fungi
    The Wire
    The study was undertaken to find out the types of bacteria and fungi present in two traditionally prepared starters: marcha and thiat, used to ferment a variety of starchy substances and produce a sweet alcoholic beverage that popular in the two ...

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  3. An Introduction to the Book Review, by Elio.

    Roberto, my partner in blog, and Scott Chimileski, a member of his lab, have written a book on microbes. Because this is a bit too close for comfort, I will be uncharacteristically quiet. Instead I have asked an outsider to review it. Brian Barry is an educated layman, at least when it comes to microbiology. He fits the bill of the reader for whom this book is intended.


    by Brian Barry

    A few days ago, my neighbor Elio came by and gave me a newly published book, "Life at the Edge of Sight" by Scott Chimileski and Roberto Kolter. He said that I might like it because it has a lot of pictures. After I thanked him, he continued somewhat slyly, "Let me know what you think after you've finished reading it."


    Left unsaid was the fact that I had just been enlisted in an experiment designed to learn whether someone largely ig­­­norant of microbiology would enjoy this book. Not awa­re of my true role, I read the book over the next two days and reported the results to Elio: I liked it a lot. "Great," he said, "that was what I was trying to learn. Now, how about writing a book review?" So, Elio's actual purpose was re­vealed, and here we are.

    "Life at the Edge of Sight" has an unusual structure. It com­prises seven chapters, each a wide-ranging story illus­trat­ing an important biological principle. The stories run the gamut – from the origins of life on Earth, to a trip by a mi­niature person through a hunk of blue cheese, to the pos­sibility of extraterrestrial life. The stories unfold using a tight integration of text and photographs – and, as Elio told me, there are lots of photographs. Most science books (as opposed to books about art or pho­tography) illustrate the text using graphics. Graphics provide much greater flexibility than do pho­tographs – you can make a graphic look like anything you need. "Life at the Edge of Sight" accom­plishes the same end using only photographs. It is worth reading this book if for no reason other than to see how Chimileski and Kolter make this technique work.

    Chapter 5, "Tales of Symbiosis," is typical of their approach. As the chapter begins we learn how a medicine woman in the Amazon rainforest used leaf cutter ants to clean wounds. We follow the leaf cutter ants to their nests and learn about their dependence on bacteria to remove invasive species from their fungus farms. The story gets more complicated as additional species are intro­duced, ending with a description of a five-species symbiotic network.

    But, we're not through with symbiosis yet, because Chapter 5 smoothly segues to the lab of Albert Schatz and Selman Waksman and the discovery of an antibiotic effective against tuberculosis. Af­ter a detour for a bit of scientific back-stabbing and Nobel Prize gossip, the chapter describes re­sis­tance and why it is less likely to develop in leaf cutter ant nests than in hospitals. The ants have a more robust antibiotics strategy than we do.

    The chapter finishes with descriptions of bioluminescent bacteria in fish and the symbiotic relation­ship between coral and Symbiodinium (zooxanthella) cells in the Great Barrier Reef. It is a long trip from folk medicine in the Amazon to the Great Barrier Reef, but each stop along the way raises im­portant issues related to symbiosis, and does so in a fast-paced and continuously interesting man­ner.

    Getting back to the photographs. The authors use photos taken at a wide range of scales, from sa­tellite images to electron microscopy, all of them interesting and many of them quite beautiful. The tight integration of text and photography makes me wonder which came first. Did Chimileski and Kolter have the photographs and decide to build a story around them? Or, did they start with a sto­ry and then locate exactly the right photographs to illustrate it? However they did it, they made the technique work.

    I've read a lot of books written by scientists for 'interested laymen.' "Life at the Edge of Sight" holds up well in the company of authors such as Jared Diamond, E.O. Wilson, Thomas Eisner, Richard Dawkins, Thomas Seeley, and Bernd Heinrich. If you are a microbiologist and want to explain the excitement of your field to friends, relatives, or maybe the teenager living next door, I recommend that you add copies of "Life at the Edge of Sight" to your Christmas lists. It will tell the story for you. It is an amazing bargain – only $23 on Amazon.

    A final word of caution: When dealing with Elio be aware that what might seem to be a normal so­cial interaction could actually be a set-up. You may be getting enlisted as the subject of a skill­fully disguised experiment.

    Brian Barry



    Brian Barry was in the Navy’s nuclear power program – where he en­coun­tered few bugs.





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  4. Underside-cinnabars-in-moss-1024x683.jpg

    It’s nearly dusk and I am bushwhacking up a steep hillside of mixed conifers, punctuated by ancient oaks. The oaks that stabilize these craggy slopes are survivors – spared widespread logging not due to conservation but to convenience, the prohibitive price of hauling hardwood out a ravine.

    One elder oak invites me to sit down and rest my spine against its sturdy trunk as I gaze down at the sloping forest floor and catch my breath. Sometimes the hunter sees more by slowing down. A sliver of sunlight catches the rich, rosy hue of a collection of brightly colored mushrooms, so I leave my pack by the oak and stumble downhill to investigate.

    Soon I have harvested a handful of fragrant cinnabar red chanterelles, more elusive and exotic than their celebrated golden relatives. Cinnabars tend to be small and can be good hiders despite their brilliant red coloring, and I wonder if I am just scraping the surface of a bigger flush. In the dimming daylight I carefully massage the duff, pulling back a clump of decaying pine needles and oak leaves to find several new cinnabars stretching up from the ground. More and more cinnabars begin popping into view – most too young to harvest – but my hunter instincts keep me surveying the scope of the patch and planning a return later in the week.

    Crawling around under a darkening sky, well aware that it’s time to head back uphill to reclaim the pack I’d left by the oak, I notice an odd buzzing sound. I look at the soil, just inches from my face, and see a few massive earthworms wriggling around nervously. I wonder if the wriggling of these behemoths is creating the buzzing sound, but I’ve never known earthworms to be very vociferous creatures.

    I clumsily uproot a small cinnabar I did not intend to harvest, and as I lament my overzealous twilight hunting I hear the buzzing noise escalate.I look down and notice it is originating from my hand. A bee! I feel a sharp pain as the stinger sinks into the pad of my forefinger and, recalling the time my father was swarmed after sitting on a rotting log, I take off sprinting. I could hear more buzzing and envisioned a fiery swarm on my tail, and I bolted back up to my backpack and out of the woods, now dark. When I ran out of breath and looked back, I found not one bee had followed me. And why would they have? The bees were quite content to return to their duties protecting the cinnabar patch.


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  5. Postdoctoral fellowships in community ecology


    Two postdoctoral fellow positions are available in the Fukami Lab at Stanford University. The successful candidates will use nectar-inhabiting bacteria and yeasts to ask broad questions about ecological and evolutionary community assembly. There will be opportunities to develop independent and collaborative research. Expertise in one or more of the following and related fields is desirable: chemical ecology, pollination biology, and microbial ecology, genomics, and metagenomics. Appointment will initially be for one year and annually renewable for up to three additional years. Start date is preferably October 2017, but flexible.

    Full advertisement here


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  6. Oncolytic Viruses Viruses have shaped human history through devastating infections. In addition, virus infection may be responsible for up to 15% of cancer deaths. Nevertheless, certain viruses can be our “friends.” At the end of the 18th century, Edward Jenner used cowpox to protect humans against infection with a lethal pathogen, smallpox. Based on the effectiveness of this “vaccination” process, in the 1960s, the World Health Organization mounted a global vaccination campaign that resulted in the eradication of smallpox. In the mid-20th century, the principle of virus attenuation through adaptation to unnatural hosts was extended to cultured cells: cells from different species were used to select viruses with multiple mutations, reducing replication speed and allowing the immune system to control viral infection. Based on such a “live-attenuated” vaccine, global eradication of another viral disease, rinderpest, was recently achieved. Other global vaccination campaigns, including those against polio and measles, are progressing. In addition, subunit vaccines are proving to be effective against virus-induced cancers, preventing hepatitis B virus–induced hepatocellular carcinoma and human papilloma virus–induced cervical cancer. A new frontier is to develop viruses into anticancer weapons. Many cancers remain incurable despite recent advances in radio-, chemo-, and immunotherapy. Based on their preferential replication in tumor cells, viruses from nine families have progressed to clinical trials of oncolysis: DNA viruses include Adenoviridae, Herpesviridae, Parvoviridae, and Poxviridae and RNA viruses Paramyxoviridae, Picornaviridae, Reoviridae, Retroviridae, and Rhabdoviridae. Recently, a genetically modified herpes simplex virus 1–based oncolytic vector was approved as cancer therapeutic in the United States and Europe. What are the mechanisms supporting cancer therapy with viruses, and how can oncolytic virotherapy be improved?

    How to develop viruses into anticancer weapons. (2017) PLoS Pathog 13(3): e1006190. doi:10.1371/journal.ppat.1006190

    Tagged: Biology, Biotechnology, cancer, Health, Medicine, Microbiology, Science, Vaccines, Virology, virus 16564 16564 16564 16564 16564 16564 b.gif?host=microbiologybytes.wordpress.c

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  7. With only weeks to go before the start of Mushroom Week in The Netherlands, it's time to register for both the Mushroom Days and ISMS 2016, if you haven't done so allready!

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  8. Anca Cherecheș, a Cornell graduate student in Linguistics, gives stinkhorns a good name.

    veiledlady1.jpg.650x0_q85_crop-smartI don’t think the poor stinkhorn realizes just how polarizing it is. But it’s not hard to see why it produces strong, often visceral reactions. Just look at it. To be perfectly frank, what I see is a male sexual organ, dipped in excrement, with a mesh skirt. Some people (possibly focusing on the skirt) describe it as “amazing” and “beautiful,”1 while others will only see it as “gross” or “scary,”2 which probably explains why its common names range from the sweet-sounding “veiled lady” to the pragmatic “basket stinkhorn.” In professional circles, it’s known as Phallus indusiatus,3 where indusium (Latin for “outer tunic”) is the technical term for a kind of membrane and in this case refers to the skirt-like structure, and phallus… well, I suppose mycologists call it as they see it.

    All in all, this is one mushroom that doesn’t look all that appetizing, and I haven’t even yet mentioned its number one cardinal sin: like any true stinkhorn, the thing stinks. Or, to be more precise, its cap is covered by a slimy, smelly, sticky substance called the gleba. The gleba stinks so bad that mycologist David Arora, in his Mushrooms Demystified field guide, devotes an entire paragraph to the various epithets people have used to describe the stinkhorn odor. Think “putrid” and “garbageous,” but also “like the damp earthy smell we meet with in some of our churches on Sundays.”4 Of course, that’s exactly how flies like it; they’re attracted to the rotten smell of the spore-containing gleba and inadvertently help the stinkhorn disperse its spores.

    So the basket stinkhorn looks and smells bad. Surely then no one out there will be having stinkhorn stew for dinner. Hall et al., in their Edible and Poisonous Mushrooms of the World, agree (p. 247). Other sources, including Arora, point out that stinkhorns are edible, but only in egg stage: “the odorless stinkhorn ‘eggs’ are considered a delicacy in parts of China and Europe, where they are pickled raw and even sold in the markets (sometimes under the name ‘devil’s eggs’). Captain Charles McIlvaine [mycologist and ardent proponent of mushroom eating], of course, pronounces them delicious […], suggesting they be sliced and fried like a Wiener schnitzel.” Arora himself tries octopus stinkhorn eggs and reports that they left behind “a sticky spore mucilage […] which clung to our throats and tongues so tenaciously that we were still trying to wash it away several hours later” (p. 774). As recently as 2014, Alan Davidson in his Oxford Companion to Food states: “There seems to be no authoritative survey of the edibility of stinkhorns, nor any reason to suppose that many of them can be eaten by humans with pleasure and safety (except, perhaps in the ‘egg’ stage, before they have burst out and the evil-smelling slime has formed).”5

    (Caution: if you’ve been heartened by Captain McIlvaine’s enthusiastic approval and are planning to taste those mushroom eggs in your back yard, make sure you are actually dealing with stinkhorn eggs, and not a poisonous look-alike like Amanita eggs. Also note: some stinkhorn species are said to be poisonous.)

    Stinkhorns are too disgusting to eat […]. Nevertheless, people have tried eating the cooked eggs of some species after removing the slime layer. I reluctantly tried one bite of a cooked stinkhorn egg just once, so I could speak about the experience first-hand. I noticed very little flavor and a markedly unpleasant texture before I spit it out! […] I added [dried mature stinkhorn] to a soup, and found it to have no flavor, and a weird squishy texture that people in China apparently like, but I found very unpleasant.
    “Wildman” Steve Brill, naturalist/author (blogpost)

    Cultivated StinkhornsIn the West, therefore, stinkhorns are generally avoided. But in East Asia, the pendulum swings the other way: one stinkhorn species, the same Phallus indusiatus as in the picture above, has been collected for centuries as a choice edible reserved for special occasions and, since 1979 when it was first successfully cultivated in Southwest China, it has become more widely available, but no less treasured.6Phallus indusiatus grows in tropical regions around the world, including parts of Central and South America and Africa. In Asia it is consumed not just in egg form, as North American field guides suggest, but also in mature form. In fact, it is in this latter, mature state that you are likely to find it at major or well-stocked Asian grocery stores and markets, in the dried fungus section. Phallus indusiatus is usually sold dried, without the smelly pileus or the tough volva, under the common name bamboo fungus or bamboo pith fungus (simplified Chinese: 竹荪; traditional Chinese: 竹蓀; pinyin: zhúsūn). The West’s basket stinkhorn is the East’s bamboo fungus. [Editor’s Note: At least three stinkhorns have been cultivated in China, including Phallus rubrivolvatus and Phallus fragrans. It is unclear to me whether bamboo fungus is a true Phallus indusiatus or a different Phallus species].

    There are a few hundred kinds of edible fungi in the world, and bamboo fungus looks the most lovely, tastes the most delicious, has the most abundant nutrition and is the most valuable for medicine use. Therefore, it is also called “the botanical chicken.”

    In the US as in East Asia, bamboo fungus is not the cheapest mushroom around, although its price has decreased significantly as cultivation techniques improved, from approximately $770/kg in 1982 to $10-20 in 2000 (Hong Kong prices, converted to US dollars).7 This might be one of the reasons that it is still a bit of a novelty in more Northern parts of China. In an informal survey of my Chinese acquaintances, some people didn’t recognize the mushroom at all or had only recently been introduced to it, while others said it was common, if a bit expensive. The divide seems to be along geographic lines. Whether they grew up with it or not though, every Chinese person that I interviewed pronounced it “delicious,” “fantastic,” or something along those lines. A far cry from the few American bloggers, who found it “unpleasant” or flavorless.8

    Bamboo pith mushroomsIn the name of science (and gastronomy), I procured a packet of dried bamboo fungus from an online Asian grocer. The mushrooms arrived intact, but they are very fragile, which is not surprising given the open, spongy structure of the stalk and the thin mesh-like skirt. This is in fact one of the reasons why bamboo fungus is not sold fresh: it is crisp and easy to break, thus difficult to transport. My packet of dried fungus had a rather persistent smell: earthy and mushroomy, but with a strong hint of musty hay and almonds. It lingered on my fingers after handling, but it was not unpleasant, it did not overwhelm my kitchen and it mellowed down significantly after soaking.

    I rehydrated my mushrooms in cold water for a few hours. Different people rehydrate in different ways. Some recommend warm or hot water for faster rehydration, some believe cold water preserves more of the taste; some recipes advise you to soak overnight, while others state that a few minutes are enough. Either way, the rehydrated mushrooms are not rubbery and tough like rehydrated fleshy mushrooms (e.g. shiitakes); they are flexible, but strong enough that at least the stalk can be simmered in a soup for at least an hour without it breaking apart. Recipes vary in this regard as well; some will have you cook the mushroom for a few minutes, others will ask you to keep cooking it for an hour to extract more of the flavor.

    So what about the taste? I side with my Chinese informants here; after simmering them in some homemade chicken stock for about 15 minutes, my stinkhorn stalks and skirts had a pleasant, mild sweetness. While they were not as “mushroomy-tasting” as their fleshier counterparts, they did pack a good punch of umami. But it is really for their texture that they are most prized in Chinese cuisine.9 The texture was indeed very interesting: smooth, silky, but at the same time subtly crunchy. This reminds some people of tripe or squid,10 but the bamboo fungus stalks are softer and more flexible than these, and the skirt is very delicate.

    Bamboo fungus is traditionally used in rich chicken soups,11 but you can also find it in hot pots, stir fries and stuffed. Google will find a few recipes in English, some of which I’ve collected below. Most English-language cookbooks do not mention it, but a Google Books search suggests that more recent cookbooks and some travel guides are more likely to contain a passing reference and a recipe or two.

    Commercially-grown Phallus indusiatus is going strong in East Asia; there is a clear market for it and it is only likely to become more well-known and widely used. In the West, though, it seems unlikely that it will replace the harmless button mushroom in the hearts and stomachs of the American public. But in the meantime, if you’re an adventurous eater and a mushroom lover, this is one relatively easy to obtain mushroom that tastes much better than it looks. So don’t judge it by its cover.

    Footnotes, Recipes, and Resources

    1. If you are one of these people, you might enjoy this BBC time lapse which features a growing veiled stinkhorn.
    2. Personally, the skirt gives me a mild case of trypophobia, and I suspect I’m not the only one, since others describe it as “uncomfortable” and “weirdly discomforting” (witness this Reddit thread).
    3. Some people classify it as part of a different genus: Dictyophora.
    4. Arora. Mushrooms Demystified, p. 765.
    5. Davidson does mention that at least one species of Dictyophora, presumably our Phallus indusiatus, is sold dried in China and Hong Kong, but he goes no further.
    6. Chang & Miles, Mushrooms. Cultivation, Nutritional value, medicinal effect and environmental impact: p. 343.
    7. Id. Note, however, that the price depends on the quality. Dried bamboo fungus is divided into 4 grades according to size, color, and amount of breakage, where the first and highest grade can cost twice as much as the fourth, lowest grade.
    8. “Wildman” Steve Brill on his blog and to a lesser extent Larry Evans on Fungal Jungal, the Western Montana Mycological Association website.
    9. Chang & Miles, p. 345.
    10. Steve Brill, id.; Eddie Lin (quoting editor Randy Clemens), Hair Moss, Bamboo Fungus, and More Lucky Foods to Eat for Chinese New Year, in: Los Angeles Magazine, February 6th 2013, retrieved online on Oct. 28th 2014, url.
    11. Dunlop, Sichuan Cookery: p. lxii.

    Images of a wild cousin of cultivated Dictyophora indusiata in Costa Rica, by Brian Gatwicke (Creative Commons License); of cultivated Chinese bamboo mushroom from AliExpress; and of the dried fungus by Ken Fletcher via (color-adjusted). You might also enjoy Gary Lincoff’s photos of P. rubrivolvata from his China tour in 1983.

    Some recipes to try:
    Soups: 1, 2
    Stir-fries: 1, 2
    Sautees: 1, 2
    Stuffed: 1, 2, 3


    • Teresa Chen. 2009. A Tradition of Soup: Flavors from China’s Pearl River Delta. North Atlantic Books.
    • Fuchsia Dunlop. 2003. Sichuan Cookery. Penguin Books.

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