Our local food scene is having a bit of a fungi moment, and at the heart of it are Chris and Jo, two mushroom growers in Utah quietly cultivating some of the state’s most exotic and flavorful mushrooms.
Inside their modest grow space at Mycel Mushrooms, shelves hum with life. Fruiting tents once used for cannabis now shelter clusters of golden oysters, chestnuts, Lion’s Mane, and shiitakes. There’s no industrial automation here, just careful craftsmanship, curiosity, and a whole lot of mycelium.
“We’re still small,” says Chris. “Everything is mixed and bagged by hand. It’s a lot of lifting, a lot of learning—but we love it.”
What started as a fascination with mushrooms quickly grew into something more: a mission to make specialty fungi more accessible, sustainable, and downright delicious.
From Spore to Market
The process begins with what mushroom growers call “substrate,” a blend of hardwood sawdust, soy hulls, and other agricultural byproducts that mimic the characteristics of a forest floor. It’s pasteurized, packed into high-temperature bags, and inoculated with mushroom spores in a carefully maintained cleanroom. Once colonized, the bags are moved into the fruiting tents, where conditions are fine-tuned to each mushroom’s preferences.
“Lion’s Mane likes it cooler and drier,” Jo explains. “Oyster mushrooms? They want warmth and humidity. Each variety has its own personality.”
Their small-batch, hands-on approach means Chris and Jo can grow their mushrooms longer, allowing them to fully develop flavor and texture, something often lost in mass-produced varieties harvested early for shelf life.
“These are like vine-ripened tomatoes,” Chris says. “Except mushrooms.”
Local Love and Growing Demand
You’ll find their mushrooms on the menus of restaurants like Blatch’s BBQ, a vegan barbecue spot known for doing creative things with fungi. They’ve also become regulars at local farmers markets, where they field a lot of questions—and a lot of admiration.
“People will come up and say, ‘These are beautiful, but I have no idea how to cook them,’” Jo says with a laugh. “That’s one of the biggest challenges, just education.”
That’s why they’ve leaned into community outreach this year. Free mushroom classes, market demos, and collaborations with organizations like Wasatch Community Gardens are all part of the plan. They’re also hosting a mushroom-forward pop-up dinner this June, where each course will highlight a different variety, yes, even dessert.
One recent preparation of Lion’s Mane surprised even seasoned diners. Braised and seasoned perfectly, the texture landed somewhere between seafood and steak, rich, delicate, and unexpected.
“It wasn’t meant to imitate sashimi,” Chris says, “but the texture, it just happened. Mushrooms are wild like that.”
Mycelium and the Underground
While most people associate mushrooms with grocery store staples, Utah has a small but growing mycology community. Foragers seek out morels and chanterelles in the wild, and groups like the Mushroom Society of Utah and Fungi Fest have begun building a sense of community around the fungi frontier.
“There’s still a bit of an underground feel to it,” Jo says. “But that’s changing.”
They’ve partnered with groups like The Divine Assembly, contributing spent mushroom blocks to support soil regeneration and butterfly garden projects. “The mycelium is gold for gardens,” says Chris. “It’s worm food, basically. It keeps the cycle going.”
Food for the Future
Sustainability is at the heart of everything they do. Their operation takes in agricultural waste and outputs food, with minimal trash and maximum reuse. Spent blocks become compost. Substrates are made from byproducts. Even their sourcing is intentional, although Jo says, “Nobody grows soybeans in Utah, so we have to bring that in.”
Mushrooms are also nutritional powerhouses, high in antioxidants, fiber, and even vitamin D. Lion’s Mane in particular has gained attention for its potential cognitive benefits, while golden oysters are loaded with ergothioneine, an amino acid linked to longevity in so-called “blue zones.”
But Chris and Jo aren’t trying to sell superfoods to wellness influencers. They’re more interested in food equity. They accept food stamps at their markets and intentionally price their products to make them more accessible to a wider range of people.
“These shouldn’t be luxury items,” Jo says. “The people who would benefit the most from these mushrooms are often the ones who can afford them the least.”
A Mushroom Future
Looking ahead, Chris and Jo plan to explore tinctures and supplements made from their mushrooms. They’re researching how to responsibly introduce cordyceps into their lineup and refining their approach to consumer education.
But growth, for them, doesn’t mean scaling up; it means digging deeper.
“We don’t want to be the biggest,” Chris says. “We want to be the best. We want to stay connected to the community and keep doing this in a way that’s sustainable, thoughtful, and delicious.”
And judging by the mushrooms they’re growing, and the people they’re inspiring, they’re well on their way.
