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FoodResource
StackableConsumable
Heavy brown cap set over a bulbous cream-colored stalk, the flesh firm under a careful thumb and smelling faintly of walnuts before you have even cut into it. Dried, the scent deepens into something closer to old wood and warm butter.
Entry
Left too long, it spoils into Rotten Food.
Mechanics
Crafting, equipment, and effects declared on this entry.
Chronicle
Comes up along the root-line of the older oaks in the hill forests, and the foragers who know the spots do not generally share them before the third cup of wine. Restaurants pay twice for fresh and thrice for dried, and the best dried caps are aged through a dry winter before they reach any serious kitchen. An unfamiliar basket at the market is worth approaching slowly, on the theory that the picker is either very generous or very new.