Mushrooms, Resilience + Meaning: The Story of Anne Apparu-Hall

When Anne Apparu-Hall moved from Corsica to New York City in the 1980s, she brought with her a deep-rooted culture of foraging and food self-sufficiency. “We grew up mushroom harvesting,” she says, “In the fall, everyone is eating mushrooms. It’s inherent to know how to recognize them and how to prepare them.” This knowledge, combined with a restless creativity and a drive to serve, has shaped every chapter of Anne’s life—from her family’s legendary Corsican restaurant to her work as a chef, community garden activist, educator, and co-founder of Mushrooms.NYC, a thriving mushroom farm in the Hudson Valley.

Anne’s journey isn’t linear. She has cooked for Indigenous grandmothers in Montana, organized seed-ball rewilding projects after Hurricane Sandy, and transformed a Brooklyn mushroom business on the brink of collapse into a regional food security powerhouse. Along the way, she spearheaded community gardens, taught children to cook by intuition and play, and created a life centered on resilience, justice, and the wild flavors of the land.

“My parents met in Corsica, which is an island off of France,” she explained in accented words, round and soft as warm bread. “We were very isolated, but it was there they started a small self-sufficient restaurant where all the food came from the valley itself: the lemons, the olive oil, wine, goats, sheep cheese, figs. My mom would wild-harvest, and they would use all the herbs and everything else from nature. So everything was from the valley itself—within a 10-mile radius or so.”

A giant acacia tree (black locust) grew right through the middle of their refurbished house, separating the restaurant and kitchen from their living quarters. Its wide limbs and green leaves draped lushly over the roof, providing shade from the sun. “My siblings and I would hang out up there above the Mediterranean and eat the flowers dripping off the branches,” Anne shared. “Or my dad would prepare tempura flowers for us.” It was in that perch above the earth and sea that the children spent endless hours studying the faces they saw in the mountains. “We considered the mountains our guardians…with their eternal snows,” Anne said poetically with a tinge of lament. “Eternal’ until two decades ago…when the ice caps started to melt. Still, it was in that fertile world that I found my great inspiration,” she explained.

Their spot had a natural spring, and maquis growing everywhere, a kind of bush-like vegetation that is either medicinal or culinary, though it was semi-desert in that area.” Rustic, simple, off-grid, unpretentious. Yet the reputation of those rare, authentic offerings and deep flavors would eventually drift like the most enticing aromas to the mainland. Soon, dignitaries and celebrities would fly their private planes or take a boat sojourn to taste that magical world.

In time, though, her parents would separate, and Anne and her siblings would follow their mother to New York, finally settling in Nolita, lower Manhattan. In the 1980s, this neighborhood was far from being a verdant paradise. Mafia, drug lords, street fights, theft– not exactly the idyllic place to raise children who also had to learn the language of the predominant culture. Despite the challenges, her mother opened a Zagat-rated restaurant, bringing a sense of community and nourishment to the area. But in the wake of 9/11, when many left the city, the restaurant closed.

Anne’s circuitous journey would then take her from there to Shelter Island with her family and then to Far Rockaway on her own, where she ran a Tunisian fish couscous soup “shack” on the beach called Malou, named after her grandmother. True to her generous nature, Anne laughs, “I had zero margins because I was giving away so much.” But soon, she had the funniest, loveliest crew: a disabled Tunisian man missing a leg and an eye, a Texan with huge teeth, and a Chinese kid from Chinatown who made extra money giving massages.” That eccentric hub was open only one day a week, and people flocked there to enjoy her Reggae Sundays, which featured live music. “We had so much fun! That time for me was amazing!” she recalls.

The following year, Anne decided she no longer wanted to be in that kind of poverty mindset, so she moved back to Chinatown. But just a few months later, Hurricane Sandy hit, and Anne returned immediately to help the community she knew and loved well. She volunteered to cook for “Shore Soup,” a grassroots, volunteer-run soup kitchen that fed hundreds of people daily in response to the community’s sudden food needs. “If I didn’t show up, there would be no soup,” she said.

“I made 40 gallons of soup a day or more for months and months from donated, tired ingredients from farm markets across the city and with canned goods and other items funded through humble donations. I personally made thousands of soups that were delivered hot in ball jars. That was before the Red Cross arrived, and you could barely walk in the streets. It was such a disaster. Eventually, there were others to help, and people also dropped off some ingredients for my soups.”

Anne’s efforts didn’t stop there. She also initiated “seed bombing” to restore the dunes destroyed by the hurricane. Thanks to her tireless passion for the Earth and community, their team distributed thousands of seed balls from Montauk down to the Jersey Shore.” This gargantuan effort to help restore the dunes also involved partners like the New Museum, the Lower East Side Girls Club, and other local organizations.

Anne’s generosity would guide her to some important relationships in her life, including Flor de Mayo, one of the thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers, who sent seeds for the project from a seed bank in New Mexico, and Vandana Shiva gave her blessings. After that, Anne became the chef for the Grandmothers when they met in the States. “I have friendships with most of them. Mona Polaca (a Native American elder and indigenous + Earth rights advocate from Arizona) also gave her blessings for the seed ball project,” Anne says.

That initiative also brought Anne and Ted together. He came to help–and help he did. Eventually, Ted became her husband, partner in Mushrooms.NYC, and father to their two beautiful daughters. Anne’s next challenge was to help her neighbors in Far Rockaway grow their food. “The city owned the land we wanted to use and to grow on it; we had to get approval from the city to designate it as a park.” Despite initial resistance and previous failed attempts to launch the community garden in the area, Anne persisted. With her usual tenacity, the Edgemere Community Garden Coalition was eventually formed and continues to be a thriving community and educational hub, as well as an oasis.

Want to know more about this heartfelt powerhouse? 

Read our Exclusive Q&A with Anne Apparu-Hall below, including more of the story behind her “better-than-organic” mushrooms, her philosophy of natural growing, and the lessons she’s learned from mushrooms, motherhood, and the ever-changing landscapes she calls home.

INSIDE+OUT: What inspired you to start growing mushrooms in New York?

Anne Apparu-Hall: When I moved to New York, I missed that connection to the land. Then, I met a woman looking to hand off her struggling mushroom business, and suddenly, we were taking over a small start-up that was on the verge of going out of business.  She was burnt out. Honestly, it requires a lot of money and attention to grow mushrooms in the city. Yet, for the sake of food security, access, and education, we started our better-than-organic mushroom farm in the heart of Brooklyn. That was in early 2019. It was a beautiful space in Brooklyn, and I just fell in love with the idea.  My roots are in Corsica, where, as I explained, mushroom foraging is a way of life. We took over, and in April 2019, Mushrooms.NYC was born.

What was it like running a mushroom farm in Brooklyn, and how did the pandemic change things?

It was a lot! We started distributing to restaurants and farm markets in New York City, the Hamptons, Westchester and Long Island. However, when COVID-19 hit, everything changed, and we left the city. We launched a full-fledged growing operation in Mattituck on the North Fork of Long Island, as well as a mini-grow space in Crown Heights. Eventually, we consolidated everything at our farm in Ellenville. We’ve since trained other customers to host micro-growing operations, building a decentralized co-op. We want this to be a beautiful, empowering, learning-in-action experience.

What mushrooms do you grow and forage?

We grow naturally cultivated shiitake, a rainbow of oyster varieties (blue, yellow, king, brown, white, pearl, pink), lion’s mane, white coral, poplar/pioppino, and more. We also sustainably and regeneratively forage for all healthy, edible, and medicinal mushrooms in our area—chicken of the woods, maitake, black trumpet, chanterelle, hedgehog, lobster, coral, turkey tail, chaga, reishi, black hoof, and tinder polypore. We sell triple-extracted tinctures made from these mushrooms and local medicinal plants—our most popular blends support repair, gut health, breathing, clarity, and more.

How did you first fall in love with food and foraging?

As I mentioned, my parents met in Corsica and started a small, self-sufficient restaurant where everything was sourced from the local valley. My mom also wild-harvested herbs and botanicals for flavoring liquors and baking. I literally shared my baby bottle with the goats that would later end up on the table, and my mom made us toys from the goats’ skins. She learned traditional crafts and recipes from Corsican elders and became a kind of guardian of the island’s culinary culture.

How did you bring those roots to New York?

When my mom moved us to New York, she opened Le Poeme, a natural bakery, restaurant, and cooking school on Prince and Elizabeth in 1987. It was ahead of its time—jazz nights, poetry readings, local artists’ work on the walls, communal tables, and even wild-harvesting trips to Central Park for vegan menus. Later, as I started my own pop-up restaurants, I became increasingly local, buying from community gardens and even people’s backyards. It became an exercise in food security, which is why we took on the mushroom farm: to provide protein for New York City. We were growing about 250 pounds of mushrooms a week—the equivalent of a cow’s worth of protein.

How does your approach to growing mushrooms differ from others?

We grow as naturally as possible. When we started in NYC, everything was perfectly controlled—humidity, temperature, light. However, we now utilize natural sunlight, fresh air, and hand-spraying. The mushrooms last longer, have more flavor, and are more resilient. It’s the same with my garden—I plant what I plant, but I’m not there every day. Some years are good for tomatoes, while others are better suited for other crops. I let the elements shape what thrives. It’s about allowing plants, animals, and kids to discover their strengths.

What have mushrooms taught you about life?

So much! Their generosity is incredible—they’re allies to the human body, offering nutrition, healing, and teaching us about unity and communication. The mycelium network is all about service, connection, and resilience. Mushrooms help forests communicate, and they provide highly digestible protein and essential elements to support the health of our nervous and immune systems. They’ve taught me to let things be themselves, not just contain them in a lab.

How do you balance family, farming, and community work?

It’s a challenge, especially with homeschooling. I’m grateful for my flexibility and my love of culture, life, and service—it helps. I’m constantly nourished by the positivity that comes from doing things with love, not just for my children but for friends, their kids, and the community. I hope I’m giving others a positive outlook, showing that we can do difficult things, face the unknown, and raise wild children in a good way.

What is your food style?

I call it rustic now because people understand what that means. But I used to call it “grandma food”—simple, nourishing dishes like my Tunisian grandmother made. My dad was a great chef, but I never ate his mother’s food. My mom is still alive, but I lost my dad in 1993—he was in Corsica.

What do you hope your children take away from their unusual, grassroots, connected-to-the-land upbringing?

Even at six and nine, they’re already discovering who they are. It’s beautiful to watch them develop their interests and strengths, not by rejecting things but by exploring what they love. We challenge them a lot; their childhood isn’t easy, but it’s rich in experiences. I challenge my mushrooms, my garden, and my kids—I don’t believe in making things too comfortable to develop their unique strengths.

How has your spiritual journey influenced your life and work?

I was raised Jewish, but I never quite fit into traditional roles. My husband, Ted, introduced me to the Baha’i Faith. After a year of exploration, I found that it was precisely the vessel I needed—a path toward justice and equality, free from clergy or dogma. It’s deeply human, embraces diversity and unity, and is all about service and connection—living your values every day. Wherever we travel, we meet local Baha’is and instantly feel a sense of family and community.

Where can people find your mushrooms and tinctures?

We don’t keep a list of stockists, but our tinctures are at Forage and Gather in Hurleyville, and we sell at markets in Allensville and other local spots. Most of our business is word of mouth. I’ve never promoted my food—people come to me because they want something real and seasonal. If someone requests a menu in advance, I charge double. I just can’t plan that far ahead.

Are you still teaching others to grow mushrooms?

Not really. We sell blocks, but we haven’t trained anyone in a while. We’ve scaled the business way down—it’s just Ted, me, and sometimes one helper for markets. We’re not looking to expand; otherwise, it becomes more of an operation than a farm. We want to stay close to the production and sell directly.

What’s next for you and Mushroom.NYC?

I’m planning some pop-up restaurants, cooking classes, and art with food. I love collaborating with others—mushroom painting afternoons, community events, you name it! I’ll try to get better at posting events online, but honestly, word of mouth is what I trust most.

Photos by Birch | courtesy of Anne Apparu-Hall

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To learn more about Anne Apparu-Hall’s mushrooms, tinctures, and upcoming events, visit Mushrooms. NYC or follow her on Instagram. 

You can also find her and her family’s tinctures and harvest at the following Hudson Valley farmers markets:

• Ellenville Market  | Wednesdays |  4pm – 7pm
• Arlington Farmers Market | Thursdays | 3pm – 7pm
• Rock Hill Farmers Market | Saturdays | 10am -1pm
• Forage & Gather in Hurleyville NY

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Click HERE to see all of our exclusive interviews with the amazing folks who proudly call the Hudson Valley home.