We had our first real rain of the year this week, an all-out storm that dumped fat droplets of water on us for nearly twenty four hours straight.  The streets in Berkeley flowed with rushing water and the blacktop at King transformed into an enormous shallow wading pool.  The garden, however, loved the rain and soaked it right up.  All the vibrant shades of green glowed in the mist, and many students commented on how good the garden smelled after the rain.  “It smells like things are growing,” one student said.

Cultivated vegetables are not all that responded well to the rain. We have gotten a flush of fungi in the garden since the storm, some of them magically appearing over night.  The most bizarre fungus I have ever seen popped up next to a garden path, emerging as a delicate reddish net from a white, egg-shaped base.  (I overheard one student explaining to her friend that “it hatches just like an alien.”)  Not only is the form of the mushroom strange and fantastical, but the smell is unbelievable.  The fungus (which we identified as Clathrus ruber, commonly known as a “stinkhorn”) emits a potent, rancid stench that brings to mind rotting flesh. Witnessing this freakish fungi always elicits comments of disgust and amazement–there is always something new and exciting for students to observe in the garden.

Aside from the thrill of the rain, students this week have been cooking a snack in the garden–a tasty treat called “Alegria.” Alegria is made with popped amaranth, honey, cinnamon, and sunflower seeds, likened by a student to a “healthy rice crispy treat.”  It is eaten as a street food in southern Mexico, India, and Pakistan.  Here in the garden, it’s served on an amaranth leaf and enjoyed at closing circle of a garden class.

The captivating and grotesque stinkhorn mushroom

Stirring popped amaranth, honey, and sunflower seeds for Alegria

Students pressing Alegria into shape

Dividing the Alegria into portions

Alegria served on amaranth leaves