Phellodon species are toothed fungi. Instead of gills or pores, they have spines or teeth on the underside of the cap. A mushroom with teeth. That is not a metaphor. The structure is literal. The appearance is distinct. The identification is straightforward for those who look closely. The cap is two to six centimetres across. The colour ranges from brown to grey-brown. It often has a white margin. The teeth are grey to brown. They are soft and brittle. The stalk is two to five centimetres tall. It is often off-centre. The texture is tough and fibrous. The flesh is brown. It has a peppery taste. The spore print is white. These features help distinguish Phellodon from other toothed fungi. The details matter. The combination is unique. Phellodon species are mycorrhizal. They form symbiotic relationships with beech and other native trees. They cannot survive without their hosts. The mushroom seen above ground is just the fruiting body. It is a temporary structure. It appears after rain. The real fungus lives underground. It is wrapped around tree roots. The connection is vital. The dependency is total. The forest supports the fungus. The fungus supports the forest. Not edible. The tough texture and peppery taste make Phellodon unappealing for the table. Some toothed fungi are bitter. Others are simply too tough to chew. Best left for their ecological role. They are not food. They are partners. The culinary value is zero. The ecological value is high. The trade-off is clear. Observe but do not consume. The distinction is important. In New Zealand beech forests, Phellodon is common in autumn. Look under beech trees. Look in the leaf litter. The brown caps and spiny undersides are distinctive. It is a common sight for those who walk the forest floor with their eyes down. The perspective is key. The reward is visual. The season is specific. The location is predictable. The Māori name is not recorded. Another mycorrhizal fungus is hidden underground most of the year. It appears only in autumn to release spores. Then it disappears. The cycle is brief. The presence is fleeting. The impact is lasting. The lack of name reflects the obscurity. The observation reflects the presence. The tradition holds no record. The science holds the classification. The fungus remains unnamed. It remains essential. That is the toothed fungus. A mushroom with teeth that does not bite. A partner to the beech tree. A common sight in autumn for those who look down. The teeth are soft. The taste is peppery. The role is symbiotic. The life is hidden. The fruiting is visible. The decay is inevitable. The cycle continues. It carries on. It does not seek attention. It seeks connection. And that seems to be enough.