Quiet, It’s Growing

Virginie Boivin enters the room out of breath. One of her employees let her know over the walkie-talkie that we were there. A firm handshake, a smile emerging despite the stress we can sense. Mushrooms may be known for their exponential growth, but the energy Virginie exudes as she welcomes us is equally impressive. 

“I’ve been growing mushrooms for 10 years. I started in 2018 in a tiny space of about 50 square metres. Today, we have ten times that amount of space across our new production and food-processing areas and the laboratory. Big Bloc is a bit like a three-headed dog: we produce fresh mushrooms for distributors, restaurants and individuals; process food, including preserves, spices and dried mushrooms; and run a laboratory where we produce mushroom cultures and substrate blocks for other farms that may not have the necessary equipment. We produce around 400 to 500 blocks and 300 kg of mushrooms per week, including Lion’s Mane, Pioppino, Chestnut and blue oyster mushrooms…” 

     - How did you come to realize that your life would revolve around mushrooms?

“I worked in the restaurant industry for most of my adult life. Then, in 2016, I moved to Nova Scotia and worked at a school. It gave me time to take a step back and think about what I wanted for my future. My former partner Gabriel and I started taking an interest in mushrooms: we foraged for and identified them, and learned about how to grow them. We never went back to the restaurant industry. We started a small business in the basement of a house, with just one shelf, and sold our mushrooms to a single customer. We were hooked: once you start working with mushrooms, it’s very hard to change paths.” 

With that, Virginie opens the door to the mutant nursery. It is an isolated room whose only window overlooks the workshop, misted every ten minutes. It quickly becomes clear that here, humans adapt to the mushrooms, not the other way around. Across dozens of shelves, mushrooms in a variety of shapes and colours climb over blocks of substrate. 

“I’ll try to put it in simple terms, but basically, we start with a mushroom cell that we place in a Petri dish containing sweetened agar-agar (editor’s note: a type of gel base in which organisms can grow). The mycelium then colonizes the dish, and a beautiful white fuzz appears on top. We use it in the subsequent stages until it eventually grows on the grain we use to colonize our substrate blocks, where the mushroom will ultimately grow. The whole process takes several dozen days. Then we make an incision in the bag, and the mushrooms emerge through it. We’re a bit like shepherds: we hope they come out in the right place and try to guide them. Sometimes, they don’t listen to us.” 

As she speaks, Virginie exudes a kind of tenderness for the mushrooms surrounding us. In this room, where everyone takes great care of each block, there is a palpable sense of exchange. An invisible communication between the living organisms unfolding before us and the hands harvesting them. We quickly make our way through a few other rooms, including the refrigerated laboratory, which looks like a scientific hideaway. 

“I could talk about this for hours. I get emotional every time I talk about my work. I’ve never felt so fulfilled by anything. Yes, it requires a tremendous amount of independence, and no one taught me how to grow mushrooms. I do almost everything myself, from accounting to repairing the machines. But I work with living organisms, I grow food, and I can do it in a way that aligns with my values. The goal is for as many people as possible to be able to eat mushrooms. My product has to be accessible; I don’t consider it a niche product. And on top of that, it draws on all my skills and all my passions: food processing, which relates more to my past in the kitchen, and research and development, which ties more closely to my university background. I earned a bachelor’s degree in geography, specializing in peatland wetland management. It’s funny how life always comes full circle.

   - Does the intensity of working in the restaurant industry seem more manageable than what you experience here? 

What was really great about the restaurant industry was, above all, the sense of family that developed. You experience intense emotions in a kitchen: you argue, you fall in love. Some people leave, while others arrive. But I’ve found that here too, since there are around twenty other businesses at Centrale Agricole whose people I see every day. It gives me that same sense of family, but without the toxic dynamics you might encounter in the restaurant industry. And when I worked in that field, it wasn’t my own project. I was just a pawn. Here, I’ve created an environment where I feel I belong, and I’m not going anywhere else.”

We come full circle, back in front of the window where the mushrooms grow silently in their peaceful, carefully monitored jungle. Now, Virginie’s energy feels more like the driving force behind something greater. The energy of people shaped by their work, in a more positive sense than the word usually implies. Shaped in the sense of feeling. Feeling fulfilled in one area and knowing that nothing could make you give up nurturing others in this way. 

“I’m very proud of my mushrooms. I sell some to other farms, which then resell them as their own, and when they say to me, ‘My God, they’re beautiful,’ it makes me happy. And then there are events like La Ferme en ville: a huge banquet where 350 people will eat my mushrooms, prepared by Montréal’s best chefs. To me, it’s the ultimate recognition of my work. I’ve been doing this for almost 10 years. I used to enjoy working under contract, knowing that it would end, having a final deadline. I could never imagine myself doing the same thing forever. But what I do here, I’ll do for the rest of my life.”