The name tells you everything. Slippery. Jack. The slippery jack is a brown mushroom with a very slimy, sticky cap when wet. The cap skin is so slick that it peels off in one piece. It comes away like a wet sticker. Underneath, the pore surface is yellow. It turns olive with age. The stem has a distinctive ring. This is white to pale yellow. Above the ring, the surface is granular. The texture is specific. The appearance is distinct. It grows under introduced pine trees. It forms mycorrhizal relationships with the roots. In New Zealand, that means pine plantations. It hitched a ride from the northern hemisphere. It probably arrived in imported soil or tree roots. It has made itself at home in our exotic forests. The introduction was accidental. The establishment was successful. The spread is widespread. Edible, but the slimy cap skin should be removed first. Peel it off. It comes away easily. Some people dry the caps and use them in soups. Others pickle them. Most just fry them in butter and hope for the best. The preparation is necessary. The reward is modest. The effort is required. The Māori name is not recorded. Another introduced fungus arrives without invitation. It brings its slime with it. The lack of name reflects the origin. The presence reflects the adaptation. The tradition holds no record. The modern recognition is culinary. It should be distinguished from the poisonous look-alike, the bitter bolete. The bitter bolete has a reticulated stem. Its flesh is intensely bitter. Taste a tiny piece. If it is bitter, spit it out. The slippery jack is mild. It is almost bland. The distinction is critical. The consequence of error is unpleasant. The identification is tactile. Common in pine plantations throughout New Zealand. It appears in autumn after rain. Look under pine trees. Look in the needle litter. The slimy caps are hard to miss. The season is predictable. The location is specific. The visibility is high. That is the slippery jack. Slimy, edible and slightly annoying to clean. A mushroom that asks you to work for your dinner. Then it rewards you with something bland. The transaction is clear. The slime is the barrier. The flavour is the payoff. The fungus does not care for opinion. It cares for association. It finds it in the pine. It spreads in the plantation. It fruits in the rain. It waits for the forager. And that seems to be enough.