There’s a moment in the Swedish autumn when the forest feels alive in a different way. The birches are shedding their golden leaves, the air has that unmistakable sharpness of woodsmoke and damp moss, and the forest floor becomes a carpet of earthy browns. If you know where to look—and if you’re patient—you’ll find them: trattkantareller, the funnel chanterelles.
They don’t show off the way summer chanterelles do, with their bright yellow crowns shouting “pick me!” Instead, they blend into the forest floor. You need to crouch, to look carefully under branches and moss. And then, suddenly, you see not one, but a whole patch, and your basket begins to fill. This is the joy of autumn in Sweden—quiet discoveries, one mushroom at a time.
A family of trumpets
The funnel chanterelle we most often talk about is Craterellus tubaeformis, a delicate mushroom with a hollow, funnel-shaped stem and a slightly smoky, nutty taste. But it has two close relatives that are just as interesting:
Craterellus lutescens – more colorful, with a warm yellow stem and a fruitier aroma. A splash of brightness on the forest floor, as if it absorbed the last rays of summer sun.
Craterellus cornucopioides, the so-called “horn of plenty” or “black trumpet.” This one looks dramatic, almost gothic, but in the kitchen it transforms into a powerhouse of deep umami. French chefs have long called it the “poor man’s truffle.”
Together, these mushrooms form a small orchestra of flavors, each playing its own part. Where the classic chanterelle sings golden and buttery, the Craterellus family plays in smoky autumn tones—perfect for the darker season.
Swedish mushroom culture
In Sweden, mushroom picking isn’t just a hobby; it’s a tradition, almost a cultural right. Thanks to allemansrätten—the right of public access—anyone can walk into the forest and gather food for free. Families head out with baskets, thermoses of coffee, and maybe a cinnamon bun or two. Some keep their mushroom spots secret for generations. Others share them freely, because after a good rain, the forest is generous enough for everyone.
But with generosity comes caution. Every Swede learns to respect mushrooms early. For every delicious funnel chanterelle, there are dangerous doubles, like the toppig giftspindling (deadly webcap). Guides always remind you: “plocka bara det du säkert känner igen”—pick only what you’re sure about. That’s why mushroom courses and websites like
https://svampguiden.com/ or
https://svampkonsulent.se/ exist: to keep curiosity safe.
From forest to lasagna
At Lasagnariet, we asked ourselves: how do you take the essence of this autumn ritual and put it into layers of pasta?
The answer is a vegetarian lasagna built around the funnel chanterelle. Each generous portion contains around 100 grams of mushrooms—because if you’re going to celebrate autumn, it has to be wholehearted. To balance their intensity, we add:
Leeks, slow-braised until they melt into sweetness.
Cabbage, thinly sliced and cooked just enough to stay juicy, adding body and comfort.
Silky béchamel, smooth and rich, wrapping every bite in warmth.
Västerbotten cheese, the pride of northern Sweden, with its sharp and nutty bite that binds the forest flavors together.
Layer after layer, the lasagna becomes a dialogue between field and forest, Swedish tradition and Italian technique. The mushrooms bring the deep umami, the vegetables add sweetness and softness, the béchamel holds it all in silky comfort, and the cheese sharpens everything into harmony.
The result is not just food—it’s an edible portrait of Swedish autumn.
Autumn, the season of layers
Sweden has a way of slowing down in autumn. After the long brightness of summer, the rhythm changes. People light candles earlier, bake more bread, spend Sunday afternoons walking in forests or around lakes. The season is shorter than we’d like, but maybe that’s why it feels so precious.
In Italy, autumn is the time of truffles, chestnuts, and grape harvests. In Sweden, it’s mushrooms that mark the season most clearly. They appear after the rain, they disappear with the frost, and in between, they define how we eat. Dried funnel chanterelles are almost a currency of their own—grandmothers proudly storing jars of them, ready to flavor sauces and stews all winter.
And yet, while drying is traditional, there’s something wonderful about using them fresh. Their texture is softer, their aroma more vivid. That’s why we wanted to dedicate a lasagna to them now, when they’re at their best.
A sustainable choice
Cooking with funnel chanterelles is not only delicious—it’s sustainable. They grow wild, requiring no irrigation, no chemicals, no transport other than your own two feet. Picking them supports local food traditions and connects us directly to the landscape.
At Lasagnariet, this fits perfectly with our philosophy. We always try to follow the seasons, whether it’s ramsons in spring, asparagus in early summer, crayfish in August, or mushrooms in autumn. Our takeaway concept is not about repeating the same flavors all year, but about listening to what nature offers and letting that guide the menu.
That means that every visit to our shop is a little different. One month it might be a bright green lasagna with herbs, another month a creamy pumpkin version, and now, a smoky-juicy mushroom dish. Life is made of layers, and so is our menu.
Comfort food, forest style
What makes lasagna such a perfect companion to mushrooms? Maybe it’s the way the sauce seeps into the pasta, carrying all that umami. Maybe it’s the contrast between crispy baked top and soft, juicy center. Or maybe it’s simply that lasagna, like mushroom picking, is about patience. You can’t rush either. You need time to pick, to clean, to layer, to bake. And in that time, the flavors deepen.
There’s also something democratic about it. A basket of funnel chanterelles may look small, but once folded into béchamel and layered with pasta, it feeds many. The forest is shared, and so is the dish.
Our autumn takeaway
When you step into Lasagnariet this season, you’re not just buying a meal. You’re bringing home a little piece of the Swedish forest, baked into layers of pasta and cheese. You’re tasting the work of those quiet walks, the patience of spotting mushrooms in the moss, the generosity of nature in autumn.
For us, food is never just about filling stomachs. It’s about creating connections—between Sweden and Italy, between seasons and kitchens, between tradition and innovation.
So this autumn, let funnel chanterelles guide your appetite. Come for the umami explosion, stay for the comfort of a dish that feels both familiar and new. Because if life is made of layers, autumn is one of the richest, and it deserves to be eaten.
It’s autumn at Lasagnariet, layered in every bite.
