The craft

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Why your mushrooms shouldn't fly

Most exotic mushrooms served in England have had quite a journey: cut abroad, chilled, boxed, flown, trucked and traded through a market before a chef ever opens the lid. Six days is normal.

Mushrooms are mostly water and entirely momentum — from the moment they're cut, the scent quietens and the cut face dulls. Nothing about that improves with air miles. Ours travel differently: cut at first light in East Garston, in the van by eight, and in a kitchen's walk-in before lunch the same day. Freshness isn't a claim we make. It's a distance we keep short.

The short road

East Garston to Newbury is nine miles. To Marlborough, twelve. Even Bray is under an hour at dawn. When the road is that short, freshness stops being a promise and becomes geography.

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