16 Nebraskaland • July 2020
IN THE FIELD
My first encounter with a stinkhorn mushroom was during
a college botany field trip. Our professor pointed out the
mushroom and then he had a few of us smell it. Its odor was
putrid, like rotting flesh.
The dune and common stinkhorn are widespread in
Nebraska, growing summer through fall in lawns, gardens
and grasslands. The mushrooms develop in an egg-sized
structure located just below the soil surface. The two
stinkhorns are identical in appearance except the common
stinkhorn's egg is pure white, while the dune stinkhorn's egg
is white with a purplish tinge.
The mushrooms erupt from the egg seemingly overnight,
growing up to 4 to 6 inches in a few hours. Once erupted, the
coating on the stinkhorns' cap quickly breaks down into vile-
smelling, spore-filled slime that attracts flies, beetles and
other insects. Some insects consume the slime while others
wade through it looking to lay their eggs. The foul smell
tricks them into believing they are depositing their eggs on
decaying flesh on which their larvae can feed.
Unlike other mushrooms, which have wind-dispersed
spores, stinkhorn spores are insect-dispersed. The wide-
ranging insects leave the mushrooms with spores stuck to
their feet or in their gut, which are later expelled in their
feces.
Though they are non-toxic, it is hard to imagine anyone
would eat stinkhorns, but in China and central Europe the
odorless eggs are considered a delicacy. Here, they are pickled
raw and often sold in markets under the name "devil's eggs."
One mushroom connoisseur described them as "delicious"
when sliced and fried like Wiener schnitzel. Others have a
less favorable opinion regarding the egg's edibility.
Last summer, about 25 dune stinkhorns sprouted in our
front yard in Aurora. They were soon thick with flies and other
insects that, after a few days, had licked the mushrooms'
honey-combed heads clean of its sticky goo. They then
became less pungent and their caps faintly resembled a
morel mushroom in shape and color. At this stage, one could
envision a novice mushroom hunter mistaking a stinkhorn
for a delectable morel. It would be a mistake they made only
once.
By Gerry Steinauer
STINKHORNS – THE NAME SAYS IT ALL
PHOTO
BY
GERRY
STEINAUER
