We were at the mushroom festival in Serra San Bruno, and we tell you all about it here
We were at the mushroom festival in Serra San Bruno, and we tell you all about it here
In a summer that continues to eat away days from autumn, a festival reminds us of the richness of our land, so happily varied and imaginative like the people who inhabit it.
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4 minute read
4 minute read
The sea of the past months has left us starved for a coolness that only the mountains can offer, and going from nearly thirty degrees to seven was a liberating experience. In doing so, we remembered how it is not so easy to do the same elsewhere.
If climbing the mountain quenches one hunger, another “opens up” and it is the most classic one, for food. It is incredible how this starts to press regardless of the time we arrive there. And what better solution could present itself to us than an event that knew how to combine an iconic place like the Serre with one of the products that express the absolute sincerity of an ecosystem that, today more than yesterday, we have the task of preserving? The mushroom, which is preparing to become the king of this period, perfectly betrays the relationship of the Calabrians with their land. It, especially the porcini mushroom, cannot be cultivated: it is impossible to regulate the complex forest cosmos from which it punctually emerges. It is a true gift of nature.
By the way, now we want to denounce a sore point because, if we want to sing of love towards our land, we must also pass through the hatred that someone tries to ignite. We breathed too many fires and heard too many sirens. Each time the car was filled with a silence that seemed to be exhaled by the very trees in smoke, before the sight of a cemetery that we hope will come back to life in decades.
The sea of the past months has left us starved for a coolness that only the mountains can offer, and going from nearly thirty degrees to seven was a liberating experience. In doing so, we remembered how it is not so easy to do the same elsewhere.
If climbing the mountain quenches one hunger, another “opens up” and it is the most classic one, for food. It is incredible how this starts to press regardless of the time we arrive there. And what better solution could present itself to us than an event that knew how to combine an iconic place like the Serre with one of the products that express the absolute sincerity of an ecosystem that, today more than yesterday, we have the task of preserving? The mushroom, which is preparing to become the king of this period, perfectly betrays the relationship of the Calabrians with their land. It, especially the porcini mushroom, cannot be cultivated: it is impossible to regulate the complex forest cosmos from which it punctually emerges. It is a true gift of nature.
By the way, now we want to denounce a sore point because, if we want to sing of love towards our land, we must also pass through the hatred that someone tries to ignite. We breathed too many fires and heard too many sirens. Each time the car was filled with a silence that seemed to be exhaled by the very trees in smoke, before the sight of a cemetery that we hope will come back to life in decades.
Before arriving, we tested the characteristic hospitality of our people, who also helped us maneuver, acting as improvised traffic controllers for a few seconds, guiding us better than the Maps app could. These moments are also an integral part of the experience.
Finally, by 8 PM, we arrived in the town. It was a pleasant journey. Mountain roads might not be the best, but we Calabrians often exaggerate when assessing car trips. Sometimes, just a little more tolerance would be enough.
Parking there is more than abundant, and compared to other festivals—whether because of the location or because we are approaching the low season—you reach the heart of the celebration in just a few steps, on Corso Umberto I. The stretch we walked offered us the wonder of a beautiful town. The stands followed one after another at a brisk pace up to the square, where Radio Serra 98 provided an atmosphere that was also suitable for young people. In between, indeed, plenty of mushrooms and—no surprise—people eating mushrooms, as well as primosale goat cheese (unfortunately, the taleggio wrapped in grape pomace was already finished, Vladi's "fault"), roasted chestnuts, and corn. And an excellent band whose singer seemed like the Vibo Valentia version of Ligabue, in an obviously positive sense. To accompany the evening, Cirò wine and draft beer could not be missed.
Surely, a bit more rain would have helped the preparation, but the festival had to happen, and we can say that, during our evening spent among tagliatelle, fried porcini, vrasciuole, "crumbel" (we are sure this was an intentional neologism), zeppole, and variously filled sandwiches, the event certainly took place. We tasted a bit of everything and were satisfied.
As mentioned at the beginning, the temperature surprised us, some more pleasantly than others. But regarding the air we breathed, we must mean something that goes beyond mere thermal observation. That of festivals is always magnificent; these are truly inventions designed to experience a time in which we all rediscover ourselves as Calabrians, that is, part of this land, bound to it by a visceral relationship: it is not the tireless factory of sincere delicacies, but the original source of our very identity.
Before arriving, we tested the characteristic hospitality of our people, who also helped us maneuver, acting as improvised traffic controllers for a few seconds, guiding us better than the Maps app could. These moments are also an integral part of the experience.
Finally, by 8 PM, we arrived in the town. It was a pleasant journey. Mountain roads might not be the best, but we Calabrians often exaggerate when assessing car trips. Sometimes, just a little more tolerance would be enough.
Parking there is more than abundant, and compared to other festivals—whether because of the location or because we are approaching the low season—you reach the heart of the celebration in just a few steps, on Corso Umberto I. The stretch we walked offered us the wonder of a beautiful town. The stands followed one after another at a brisk pace up to the square, where Radio Serra 98 provided an atmosphere that was also suitable for young people. In between, indeed, plenty of mushrooms and—no surprise—people eating mushrooms, as well as primosale goat cheese (unfortunately, the taleggio wrapped in grape pomace was already finished, Vladi's "fault"), roasted chestnuts, and corn. And an excellent band whose singer seemed like the Vibo Valentia version of Ligabue, in an obviously positive sense. To accompany the evening, Cirò wine and draft beer could not be missed.
Surely, a bit more rain would have helped the preparation, but the festival had to happen, and we can say that, during our evening spent among tagliatelle, fried porcini, vrasciuole, "crumbel" (we are sure this was an intentional neologism), zeppole, and variously filled sandwiches, the event certainly took place. We tasted a bit of everything and were satisfied.
As mentioned at the beginning, the temperature surprised us, some more pleasantly than others. But regarding the air we breathed, we must mean something that goes beyond mere thermal observation. That of festivals is always magnificent; these are truly inventions designed to experience a time in which we all rediscover ourselves as Calabrians, that is, part of this land, bound to it by a visceral relationship: it is not the tireless factory of sincere delicacies, but the original source of our very identity.
When you experience an event like this, you realize that you are enjoying the culinary offerings as much as the place where they are hosted. Therefore, it is more correct to speak of the "Sagra del Fungo di Serra San Bruno" (Mushroom Festival of Serra San Bruno), since the geographical indication is part of the proper name of the event itself, not just additional information being mentioned: some go for the mushrooms, some for the Serre mountains, some because they love festivals, and some for all of these things together. We can confirm this with first-hand news, as within our own group we could find people who, in turn, did not like the mountain cold, the mushrooms, or the mountain roads.
Going back down, besides a stomach full of good food and lungs full of fresh air, we keep a reinvigorated and proud sense of Calabrian identity, the awareness of being part of a community that still believes in itself, that takes pleasure in giving directions to young people wandering lost in circles on the same streets of an unfamiliar town and in sharing the gifts of their land.
Therefore, in honoring the festival that has just passed, I hope that we Calabrians will succeed in preserving those that are to come.
When you experience an event like this, you realize that you are enjoying the culinary offerings as much as the place where they are hosted. Therefore, it is more correct to speak of the "Sagra del Fungo di Serra San Bruno" (Mushroom Festival of Serra San Bruno), since the geographical indication is part of the proper name of the event itself, not just additional information being mentioned: some go for the mushrooms, some for the Serre mountains, some because they love festivals, and some for all of these things together. We can confirm this with first-hand news, as within our own group we could find people who, in turn, did not like the mountain cold, the mushrooms, or the mountain roads.
Going back down, besides a stomach full of good food and lungs full of fresh air, we keep a reinvigorated and proud sense of Calabrian identity, the awareness of being part of a community that still believes in itself, that takes pleasure in giving directions to young people wandering lost in circles on the same streets of an unfamiliar town and in sharing the gifts of their land.
Therefore, in honoring the festival that has just passed, I hope that we Calabrians will succeed in preserving those that are to come.
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They say about us
Partner with
VAT number: 03299910806