My husband cheats. No, not in that way. He cheats to beat the unwritten rule of summer: if we didn’t grow it, we can’t have it.

In summertime, there is so much food coming out of the garden, we don’t allow ourselves to buy treats like mushrooms. All summer long, we eat like kings, but keep thinking, “Boy, this is great, but it would be even better with some mushrooms.”

But this year, we can have mushrooms without feeling guilty about not eating our own produce. A couple of months ago, Ian and the kids “planted” mushrooms.

Hanging in the pump shed, like sides of beef in the butcher’s back room is a row of plastic sleeves stuffed with straw, inoculated with oyster mushrooms. They require no weeding, no watering, no pruning. They don’t take up space in the vegetable garden. We just go out there and harvest beautiful mushrooms—feels like cheating.

Grilled, sautéed, stir fried…doesn’t matter how they are prepared, these delicious little fungi put the crowning touch on our summer menu.