Christmas vouchers
≡ Menu

DORSET : Mushroom Hunting & Wild Pizza Making. October 11th. Fully Booked.


Owermoigne, Dorset.
Sunday October 11th.
10.00am – 2pm.

Fully Booked


‘It was brilliant man, Felix and I both really enjoyed it. You should be on TV, mate.’ Simon Welsh

Foraging Course Dorset – wild mushroom hunting

Foraging encompasses many wild foods but perhaps the most exciting to hunt for are wild mushrooms. There are literally thousands of species of edible wild mushrooms growing in Dorset and Hampshire, and this course will provide you with some basic knowledge to set you on your way to becoming a successful and safe forager. On the day we will not only be looking at numerous varieties of edible mushrooms but also learning to recognise and avoid poisonous species, touching, rubbing, sniffing and collecting as we make our way through beautiful Dorset countryside. After we’ve completed our foraging exercise we’ll be heading back to our outdoor kitchen, complete with wood fired pizza oven. This is where it all comes together and we assemble, cook and eat a scrumptious wild mushroom pizza with some of our foraged finds.

Foraging in and around Moignes Court

I am very excited about this event which we will be running at the beautiful and idyllic Moignes Court. It’s a classic Dorset country house surrounded by woodland, meadows, ancient hedgerows and streams. More info about the location here.

If this event is fully booked and you’d like to go on the cancellations waiting list, please email me at


And here’s a story about mushroom foraging in Dorset taken

from my book, The Edible City.














6th October. A secret location on the border of Dorset and Hampshire.

I’m always excited when I cross that imaginary divide that separates the

city from the countryside, and today, driving south to run another two

mushroom forays, I had no one to keep me in check. The three-hour

journey became punctuated with numerous stoppages, woodland car

parks and random detours, finally arriving six hours after departing.

Sometimes Ellie suggests we go for a walk, then she’ll look me in the

eye and explain that this activity involves walking, not just remaining

in roughly one spot collecting wild plants or mushrooms. I try to keep

moving, I really do, but it’s just so hard, especially when my inner child

is finally let loose in the seasonal sweetshop of an autumnal woodland.

En route, a friend rang, a fellow forager and mushroom obsessive, who’s

lucky enough to live in an area of gorgeous mature woodland. ‘I’m just off

to check my secret trompette patch, do you want to join me?’ This may

not sound that exciting to the uninitiated but for me it would be right up

there with offers like ‘Would you like to visit my secret diamond mine?’

or ‘The sheikh would like to invite you to spend some time in his harem.’

Needless to say, I accepted and half an hour later we were both

standing outside a relatively famous, very large country pub, me

expecting to be blindfolded and driven to this most prized of hidden

places. Instead, I followed my friend as we crossed the road, taking

literally two steps into the woods before he pointed, not off into the

distance but just down at our feet. Trompette de la mort, otherwise

known as horn of plenty, one of the most prized gourmet wild foods,

with a heady truffle smell and shaped, as you’d expect from their

common name, like very dark trumpets. I knelt down to pick the small

group of perfectly formed, 4-inch-high horns at my feet and only then,

once at ground level, did I really see what he had brought me here for

. . . oh my god . . . double take, wipes eyes . . . looks again. Here, in

full view of the pub, the road and the pavement, was an endless sea of

black, the forest floor gently sloping away for at least a quarter of a mile

and everywhere I looked, delicious, extremely sought-after, free food.

I’m not a commercial forager and other than for personal use, collecting

wild mushrooms in this part of the country is not permitted, certainly

not in bulk. Regardless of this I did the maths and realised I was looking

at thousands of pounds worth of fungi, at least 200 kilos, and that was

what I could see without walking any further. For once, I may have just

slightly exceeded the recommended daily picking limit of 1.5kg per

person, aware that a week or two later, although easily discoverable by

anyone who wanted to pick them, every single mushroom here would

have collapsed and rotted back into the soil. What a waste.