Tonight, John Mitchell, weather man, said “it is real mushroom weather”.

In my early teens, during the war, my friend and I would rise at 4 o’clock AM and walk from Fifth Avenue down Bad Bargain Lane at this time of year. Past farmer Herbert’s to the GUN FIELD, off the lane through to Osbaldwick, where the gun site was, and collect a basket full each of the freshest FIELD MUSHROOMS you could possibly hope for. We always cut them at the stalk and left that in the ground. Keeping what we could eat at home, we sold the rest around the street for 6d a pound.

I have been saying to Sylvia, for a couple of weeks when we are out in the car, “tell me if you see any mushrooms over the hedges and I will go into emergency stop”. I got some that way were up in Wensleydale a few years ago and then, later, I bought some from a farmhouse back door after seeing a notice at the gate near Appleby.

The last were when we were looking after our daughter’s children and the house at Sutton Coldfield in 1996. I spotted some on a centre reservation and gathered a plastic bag full, so for 10 years, I have suffered without them.

Bacon, sausage, black pudding and fried bread take on a flavour which I would defy all the chefs on TV to better. WHERE CAN I FIND THEM, OR BUY THEM?