Mushrooms, with their delicate textures and earthy flavors, have always played a part in the world’s kitchens. People in many regions dried them out of necessity, long before refrigeration, to keep some food through lean seasons. Records from China, where mushrooms entered ancient pharmacopoeia, and from Central Europe, where peasants strung wild morels in the attic, draw a clear map of their role in human survival and culture. From those first sun-dried pieces to today’s precisely monitored dehydration chambers, technology changed how long they last and how their qualities stand up through months of storage and shipping. The consistency that modern dehydration brings isn’t just about shelf life; it means professional chefs and home cooks enjoy shiitake, porcini, and champignon in their stews pretty much year-round, no matter which side of the globe they occupy.
Dehydrated mushroom looks plain — lightweight slices, diced chunks, or powder. This simplicity hides the legacy behind it: preserving flavor, aroma, and nutrition. Producers slice, clean, and dry several cultivated and wild species. Shiitake and button mushroom appear most commonly, but oyster and porcini get their time in the dehydrator, too. Dried mushrooms lose their moisture, shrinking down into unassuming nuggets, but what comes back once water touches them again — that signature umami and texture — mark them as more than just survival food. Their shelf stability suits emergency food kits, backpacking meals, and supply chains stretching across seasons, far beyond the short window of a mushroom’s fresh harvest.
Knocking the water content down to below 10% lets mushrooms stay edible for over a year, often two. Rehydrated, they nearly double in size. The vacuum or air-drying keeps much of the original structure. Heat-sensitive vitamins like B2 and B3 stick around, as do minerals such as potassium and copper. Cellulose and chitin, mainstays in mushroom walls, don’t disappear in drying; they affect the chew, making them sturdy in a finished dish. Volatile aromatics, the secret behind each mushroom’s character, suffer some loss, but careful dehydration — around 50-60°C — keeps flavors in a solid range. Sugars and amino acids, responsible for the pleasant, savory, “brothy” taste, react through mild Maillard browning, deepening the savor.
Suppliers and producers chase consistency and food safety. Clear labeling counts: species used, country of origin, water content (often below 10%), typical reconstitution ratio, and allergen statements appear now, so buyers don’t have to guess. Certification by bodies like the FDA, EU, or China’s food authority describes not just hygiene but also standard limits for heavy metals (lead, arsenic, mercury), pesticide residue, and microbial counts. Some manufacturers go step further — stating traceability data and organic status. Industry guidelines insist that pieces be free from obvious damage or foreign matter, and nobody can sneak in sulphites or other preservatives unless flagged on the packaging. Accurate labelling protects both buyer and seller, especially as traceability and purity have shot up consumer wish lists.
Producers start by sorting mushrooms. Uniformity at this stage matters; size and thickness affect how evenly the slices dry. After washing and slicing, mushrooms go into ovens or through tunnel dryers. Modern facilities favor controlled hot air around 50–60°C, ventilated enough to sweep moisture away without cooking the mushroom or turning it leathery. Sometimes freeze-drying enters the mix, especially for gourmet varieties: rapid freezing, followed by vacuum removal of water, keeps flavors truer and textures lighter. Once dried, mushrooms head to sorting lines where broken bits or dust get separated. For powders, grinding happens after drying, preserving flavors that might burn off in a mill running too hot. The whole process avoids chemical washing, and packaging inside moisture-proof bags follows straight after.
Not much can alter a mushroom chemically in simple dehydration; water leaves, and concentrations of sugars, amino acids, and minerals increase a bit. Some Maillard reaction occurs between amino acids and reducing sugars, which builds that rich, brown, “cooked” flavor. Too much heat, and you get bitterness or loss of aroma. Polyphenol oxidase, the enzyme that browns cut mushrooms, sometimes darkens the color, but blanching before drying can slow that process. Some producers treat certain mushrooms with ascorbic acid to counter browning, but this gets flagged on the label. Some industrial users experiment by infusing vitamins, omega-3s, or flavor extracts back into dried powder, but these value-added products sit at the premium end, rarely found on supermarket shelves.
On menus or ingredient lists, dehydrated mushroom masquerades under various names: dried shiitake, dried morel, boletus powder, and more. The fungus’s Latin name often anchors high-end packaging — Agaricus bisporus for common button mushroom, Lentinula edodes for shiitake, Pleurotus ostreatus for oyster. Asian manufacturers sometimes offer “mushroom granules” or “mushroom concentrate.” Commercial kitchens order “porcini extra” or “black fungus sheets.” Product names twist with regional languages, but the principle remains the same: mushrooms, minus water, ready for the pantry.
Nobody wants to risk their health for dinner. Standards sit tight: bacteria count must fall well under food authorities’ minimums, and the search for dangerous fungi species in wild-harvested product never gets skipped. Mycotoxin testing stands front and center; ochratoxin, sometimes found in contaminated harvests, faces strict EU and US limits (often less than 2-10 ppb). Accredited facilities have cleaning protocols, and folks on the line wear gloves and hats to keep foreign material out. Packaging happens in clean rooms with filtered air, deflecting mold spores or insects. Traceability and lot numbering save lives whenever there’s a recall. Regulations continue to standardize across countries — China, Japan, North America — driven by increased global trade in dried food ingredients.
Dehydrated mushrooms shine in places where regular fresh supplies can’t reach. Restaurant pantries use powders to punch up soups, sauces, and risottos. Freeze-dried slices make easy travel snacks for hikers and survivalists. Instant ramen and hotpots use dried shiitake for a deeper taste. The food industry leans hard on them in powdered soups, flavor bases, frozen meal packs, and plant-based meat analogues. Home cooks drop them straight into stews, leaving the rehydrating to the bubbling broth. In the last decade, some supplement brands blended mushroom powders into capsules, chasing the trend for “adaptogenic” benefits in mental focus and stress support.
Innovation races ahead — nobody likes stale or rubbery rehydrated mushrooms. Food scientists look for ways to hang onto aroma, manage texture, and cut nutrient loss. Freeze-drying leads the field, but cost keeps hot-air dominance strong for large-scale plants. Researchers pin hopes on new enzyme treatments that block browning or make the reconstitution easier. Tests continue on biofortification, adding extra B12 or vitamin D through ultraviolet exposure of the raw mushroom before drying. Market research tells us that consumers crave “clean label” and traceable food properties; R&D budgets focus on projects that lower pesticide drift and cut fossil-fuel use in drying chambers. In the supplement world, scientists chase clinically meaningful results for immune response, anti-fatigue, or gut health, but reproducible evidence remains scattered across species and formulations.
Wild mushrooms can spell danger. Industry vigilance hinges on separating culinary species from poisonous lookalikes; DNA barcoding now backs up trained foragers. Specific toxins — muscarine, amatoxins — get flagged at very low thresholds. Drying never neutralizes most mycotoxins, so quality control must scrub the supply chain from field to finished bag. Academic labs test for allergic responses, but mushrooms seldom top allergen lists. A few species, notably shiitake, cause rash in rare users when eaten raw; this risk fades in dried forms due to the heat in processing. Heavy metals, especially cadmium and mercury, pile up in mushrooms growing on contaminated land, so long-term toxicity tests keep food safety top priority. Transparency in sourcing, plus regular lab results, keep this business accountable.
Mushrooms stand out among future proteins — both for taste and for their light tread on the planet. Dried mushrooms offer a lightweight, concentrated source of nutrients with a low carbon footprint, compared to growing and cooling meat. Increasing demand for plant-based foods places them in vegan burgers, meatless jerky, and ready-to-drink soups. Food tech startups experiment with fermentation, coaxing out flavor enhancers and texturizers. Personalized nutrition apps prompt new blends; consumers want targeted benefits like immunity or cognitive support. Companies scale up vertical farming and solar-powered drying to close the gap between premium and commodity markets. Supply chains stretch more often into Africa and South America, opening spaces for local cultivators and wild harvesters. As food security, climate worries, and changing tastes reshape what people eat, dehydrated mushrooms are set to play a larger role far from their roots in ancient survival and peasant larders.
Opening a jar of home-dried mushrooms always reminds me of hunting for morels with my grandfather. We sliced, dried, and jarred them for soups over winter. Years later, I learned there’s more to their staying power than simply sealing them tight. As dehydrated foods become a bigger part of home kitchens and commercial pantries alike, understanding how long you can trust those mushrooms becomes a practical question—one with health and money at stake.
On average, properly dehydrated mushrooms will stick around for a year or more. Some extend their shelf life up to 18 months, even two years, with the right storage. Compare that to the fleeting life of fresh mushrooms, which start to wilt and spoil after a week if left in the fridge. For anyone stretching grocery dollars or planning for emergencies, that extra time matters.
The story changes the minute moisture seeps in. Even a small crack in a bag lets in humidity, which wakes up bacteria and mold. Dehydrated foods like mushrooms owe their staying power to low moisture—less than 10 percent. Get sloppy, and the hard work of preservation gets undone overnight.
Shelf life doesn’t just hang on the age of the mushrooms. Cool, dark places slow the aging process. Direct sunlight heats up jars and raises interior temps, shortening the time mushrooms stay safe or tasty. Mason jars look cute on open shelves, but it’s smarter to tuck them in a pantry or cupboard. Oxygen exposure also plays a role. Oxygen absorbers in tightly sealed containers help dried mushrooms fight off spoilage and keep their flavor. I learned the hard way after finding one batch tasted like old cardboard because the lid wasn’t tight.
Food safety experts point out that visible signs—mold, off smells, strange colors—always overrule any estimated shelf life. Trust your senses. Even a mushroom that looks fine can harbor invisible toxins once spoiled.
Dehydration gives mushrooms more than longevity; it lets home cooks use them year-round, even when local supplies shrink out of season. The flavor gets more concentrated, giving broths and sauces a bigger hit of umami. Restaurants and food manufacturers rely on this reliability. For preppers and outdoor enthusiasts, shelf-stable dried mushrooms add rich nutrition to trail meals.
Keeping mushrooms dry and well stored isn’t just handy—it’s a way to cut back on food waste. Globally, around a third of food produced goes to waste, according to the United Nations. Learning how to stretch the useful life of foods like mushrooms reduces what ends up in the trash.
Use airtight containers—glass with solid lids or commercial-grade vacuum bags work best. Store mushrooms in a cool, dry location. Add a food-safe desiccant or oxygen absorber for even more insurance. Rotate older stock forward and use it first, following the “first in, first out” approach.
If you’re drying mushrooms at home, wait until they snap cleanly to store them. If they bend, there’s too much moisture left. It’s worth labeling with the date, so you know how old each batch is. Testing occasionally for off-odors or texture helps ensure safety.
People have relied on drying mushrooms for generations, but safe storage still relies on science and careful habits. There’s no benefit in risking your health for a soup or stew of uncertain origin. Foodborne illness linked to spoiled dehydrated foods is rare, but it does happen—especially if improper storage lets bacteria and mold grow. Learning best practices doesn’t just save money. It builds confidence in your pantry and lets you enjoy foraged or purchased mushrooms at their best, even months after harvest.
Dehydrated mushrooms carry the flavor of the earth and forests straight into a kitchen. They last much longer than their fresh counterparts, but only if stored well. Over the years, I’ve learned that one simple mistake, like using the wrong container, turns a prized jar of porcini or shiitakes into a musty disappointment. Those precious, brittle slices pick up moisture and odors from the air faster than most people imagine. So if someone truly values the taste and nutrition of dried mushrooms, the storage routine deserves special care.
The drying process strips away water, leaving fungal fiber rich in plant protein, minerals, and the famous umami notes. No water means no rot, but water in the air wants to crawl back in and take over. If moisture manages to sneak inside bags or jars, mushrooms soften, lose their snap, and can start to grow mold. In my kitchen, I’ve watched half-full packages clump together after sitting out, and the damage always comes from carelessness—a flimsy closure or too much humidity.
For long-term storage, glass jars with tight-fitting lids have never let me down. Mason jars offer solid sealing, block pests, and stop unwanted smells from seeping in. Every few months, I run my hands across the jars just to check for any sticky spots or signs of moisture. Some mushroom hunters swear by vacuum-sealing bags. Both have their place. Vacuum-sealed packs squeeze out sneaky air and help keep the flavor locked in for years, but they aren’t as handy if someone wants just a handful now and then.
Sunlight breaks down flavor, so stashing jars in a cool cupboard or a dark pantry shelf works best. Once, I left a bag of dried morels on a warm windowsill for a week, and the flavor thinned out faster than I thought possible. Heat speeds up the loss of aroma too. If storing in a basement or cellar, watch for damp air—a home with a humidity problem puts all your dehydrated goods at risk. Even sturdy containers won’t protect mushrooms from musty air that finds its way inside every time the lid gets cracked.
Food-safe silica gel packets, usually snagged for pennies online, suck up extra moisture before it causes trouble. I always toss one or two into my jars. In truth, this single step saved an extra-large batch of dried chanterelles after a humid week last summer. For those who want an extra layer of defense, oxygen absorbers slow down the aging process, keeping flavors bright.
Well-stored mushrooms last at least a year, and often much longer if kept safe from light, heat, and dampness. They should snap clean between your fingers—if they bend or stick together, it’s time to check for mold or strange smells. A quick sniff beats any label: real dried mushrooms smell earthy and strong, never sour.
Families pass down stories of wild food, and those usually include tried-and-true tricks that beat fancier, modern hacks. I trust a basic glass jar paired with a cool pantry and a pinch of vigilance more than any new gadget. Good storage preserves the wild magic in every dried mushroom, so flavorful stews, sauces, and risottos brighten up ordinary weeks. Store with intention, reap the rewards every time the lid pops open.
At first glance, a bag of dried mushrooms doesn’t really look like much. They resemble old leaves more than dinner. Still, these little morsels hold a truckload of flavor, ready to bloom once they get a proper soak. Chefs and home cooks can pull off risottos, broths, and pasta sauces using dried mushrooms, but only if they unlock their potential with a little care. The way you rehydrate them changes everything. I learned this the hard way, tossing chewy slices on a pizza in college because I’d dunked them in cold water and called it a day.
Most reliable cooks swear by warm water. Not too hot, not just tepid: about 120°F works because this temperature draws out both the flavor and texture, without wrecking the delicate shape. Boiling water might seem like a shortcut, but it turns mushrooms rubbery, squeezing out their subtle woodsy notes. Cover the mushrooms with warm water and let them sit. Twenty to thirty minutes usually does the trick, although thicker varieties—morels, porcini—sometimes need closer to an hour.
A lot of dried fungi have a bit of grit stuck to them. After soaking, nobody wants crunch in their creamy mushroom soup. I learned to lift the softened mushrooms out by hand, rather than dumping everything through a colander. What’s left at the bottom – that’s where the dirt and sand settle. Pour the soaking liquid through a fine sieve or even a coffee filter. The liquid is golden, not just in color, but in mushroom aroma; it’s like finding a hidden stash of flavor in your kitchen. Use it for cooking grains, fortifying sauces, or adding depth to stocks.
Nutrition matters too. Dried mushrooms still pack plenty of vitamins, minerals, and fiber, and rehydration keeps most of that intact. A study out of the Journal of Food Science found rehydrated mushrooms hang onto their antioxidant properties pretty well. That means you’re not just building flavor, you’re feeding your body, too.
Sometimes, people complain about rubbery mushrooms or a lackluster final dish. Over-soaking can rob mushrooms of their character, leaving them limp and bland. Using too much or too little soaking liquid turns everything watery or dilutes the taste. Give mushrooms a good squeeze after soaking; don’t be afraid to chop big pieces smaller if the recipe asks for it. For anyone sensitive to sodium, steer clear of pre-flavored mixes—plain, dried mushrooms and clean water control everything from the start.
Cooks do best when they use sight, touch, and smell. If the mushrooms feel tender and plump but not falling apart, they’re ready. The liquid should smell like a forest after rain if everything’s gone right. Freshness counts, so buy just enough dried mushrooms rather than letting them gather dust for years in the pantry.
I’ve stood over my Dutch oven, swirling in that earthy soaking liquid, and seen plain risotto turn into something that tastes like a forest walk. From my own kitchen experiments, I’ve realized the soaking and draining steps are not fussy details—they make the difference between a decent meal and a memorable one. In a world where ingredients cost more and food waste looms larger, drawing the most from ingredients counts more than ever. So go ahead—treat those dried mushrooms with respect, and they’ll return the favor.
Mushrooms pack flavor and nutrients, but their short shelf life pushes many to reach for dried versions. At first glance, bagged dehydrated mushrooms might seem less wholesome than fresh ones. From personal mindfulness about food waste and storage, I understand the practical side of drying produce—no surprise, mushrooms hold up well to the process. But do they still benefit a diet?
Dehydration strips away the water, shrinking mushrooms but leaving their main structures intact. B-vitamins, fiber, potassium, and unique polysaccharides hang around through drying. Research, including a 2019 study in the International Journal of Food Science, shows most nutrients survive the change. The vitamin C in mushrooms doesn’t fare as well, succumbing to both heat and time. For most folks, mushrooms don’t serve as a primary source of vitamin C anyway—they do much better delivering niacin, riboflavin, and minerals, which stick around even after dehydration.
Dehydrated mushrooms can make everyday meals more nutritious, especially during months when fresh produce is expensive or far from reach. I keep a jar in my pantry for risotto and soups, and knowing the nutrients remain gives peace of mind. Protein, minerals, and antioxidants persist post-drying. Ergothioneine—a compound unique to mushrooms, valued for fighting oxidative stress—stands up to the process too. Drying removes about 90% of water but not the compounds that set mushrooms apart.
Heat-drying mushrooms at high temperatures can drop the number of certain antioxidants, while freeze-drying preserves more. Anyone looking to maximize the health benefits might want to check how their mushrooms get dried. Commercial producers often use low-to-moderate heat to keep quality up, yet some home dehydration setups go hotter and longer. If mushrooms dry too quickly or at excessive temperatures, they lose more nutrients. A steady, low heat keeps the losses low, and many home cooks use this method for just that reason.
Dehydrated mushrooms extend the growing season by months and shrink kitchen waste. This makes eating well easier for people with tight schedules, smaller grocery budgets, or limited access to fresh foods. Given their long shelf life and preserved nutrients, dried mushrooms work for anyone wanting year-round nutrition diversity. Choosing high-quality, properly stored mushrooms keeps their value up—keep them dry, sealed, and away from sunlight.
Soaking rehydrates dried mushrooms and helps bring back some of their natural texture. Don’t toss the soaking water; it’s packed with mushroom flavor and nutrients—add it to soups or sauces. For the most nutrition, use dried mushrooms in cooked dishes where flavor matters: risotto, stews, stir-fries. Some research suggests UV-treated dried mushrooms provide a vitamin D boost, a trait fresh mushrooms lack unless exposed to sunlight.
Stay mindful of sourcing: organic or wild-crafted options tend to skip heavy processing and harsh chemicals, which helps preserve all the good stuff. If uncertain, check for producer transparency about temperature and drying technique. Home-drying offers control—use a food dehydrator at temperatures under 140°F for the best results.
Most folks stock canned goods and rice, but a bag of dehydrated mushrooms carries much more punch than many realize. These earthy, concentrated flavors make a permanent spot in my pantry. Growing up in a family that often cooked for a crowd, I learned early on how even small handfuls of shiitake or porcini could stretch a soup or stew, giving it backbone and depth you just can’t get from fresh mushrooms alone. The water from soaking them, full of umami, becomes a natural flavor booster.
Long-simmered dishes love dehydrated mushrooms. Classic Eastern European borscht owes much of its taste to a mix of dried forest mushrooms. French onion soup takes on smokier, richer notes with a bit of porcini thrown in. Throw some into beef stew and you’ll notice the meatiness climb. In Japanese miso soup, a handful of rehydrated shiitakes nudges the broth toward a restaurant taste. Even in simple lentil soup, the mushrooms add bulk and savor, turning something basic into a meal you'd want to share.
Risotto with dehydrated mushrooms always stands out, no matter what other veggies or sausage you toss in. The mushrooms rehydrate slowly, saturating the rice and broth alike. For pasta, toss rehydrated morels with butter and garlic; let the soaking water reduce in your pan for a sauce that coats every noodle. Pilafs rise a notch with bits of rehydrated mushrooms and their soaking liquid. Even quick weeknight rice bowls feel special thanks to the complex flavors.
Vegetarian cooking sometimes falls flat for those used to big, bold tastes. That’s where dried mushrooms excel. Lentil loaf or “meatballs” come alive with chopped rehydrated mushrooms, bringing their savory profile to the mix. Mushroom stroganoff, normally built on cream and onions, gets heft and authenticity with a blend of rehydrated mushrooms. I’ve used this trick in everything from shepherd’s pie to black bean burgers when that extra something felt missing.
Some people think dehydrated mushrooms only work for slow-cooked food. Toss them into a noodle stir-fry, fry them up with a splash of soy sauce and sesame oil, and they soak up flavor in minutes. Crispy baked mushroom chips, using rehydrated slices, taste rich and concentrated. Sprinkle finely chopped dried mushrooms into scrambled eggs or omelets for an earthy, almost meaty flavor with no effort.
Store-bought fresh mushrooms spoil in days, yet a jar of dried mushrooms lasts years. That means less food waste, fewer emergency grocery trips, and stronger taste in every bite. Prices for dried mushrooms used to be shockingly high, but as more people cook from scratch, big-box stores and co-ops now sell value-sized packs. Every time I open a pouch, the aroma snaps me right back to my grandma’s kitchen.
Home cooks often worry about getting enough flavor out of simple meals. Dehydrated mushrooms provide one answer: always keep them around, use their soaking liquid, and don’t be afraid to experiment. Every stew, soup, or vegetarian dish benefits from that earthy soulfulness. From risotto cravings to last-minute fried rice, these have a permanent place in my kitchen—and many others searching for honest, satisfying food.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | *Dehydrated Agaric* |
| Other names |
Dried Mushroom Desiccated Mushroom Mushroom Powder Air-dried Mushroom Freeze-dried Mushroom |
| Pronunciation | /diːˈhaɪdreɪtɪd ˈmʌʃruːm/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | dehydrated Agaricus bisporus |
| Other names |
Dried Mushroom Mushroom Powder Mushroom Flakes Mushroom Chips |
| Pronunciation | /diːˈhaɪdreɪtɪd ˈmʌʃruːm/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 70456-76-5 |
| Beilstein Reference | 4-10-00-01673 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:16595 |
| ChEMBL | null |
| DrugBank | DB04919 |
| ECHA InfoCard | ECHA InfoCard: 100003867076 |
| EC Number | 09.8.2 |
| Gmelin Reference | 764153 |
| KEGG | C02196 |
| MeSH | D04.210.500.365.444.249 |
| PubChem CID | 24804236 |
| RTECS number | VV8980000 |
| UNII | 2A67G6B8QL |
| UN number | UN3334 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXsid7025169 |
| CAS Number | 61594-87-6 |
| Beilstein Reference | 4-26-00-03798 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:16394 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL4263629 |
| DrugBank | DB00168 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 03f1d8bc-fb7c-44d5-b599-7f746048d6d5 |
| EC Number | 4.2.1.1 |
| Gmelin Reference | Gm33921 |
| KEGG | C00255 |
| MeSH | D04.210.500.365 |
| PubChem CID | 5282190 |
| RTECS number | RR1050000 |
| UNII | 6U6W7958MR |
| UN number | UN2814 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C8H10N2O4 |
| Molar mass | 400.00 |
| Appearance | Light to dark brown slices or pieces, dry and wrinkled with a slightly earthy aroma |
| Odor | Characteristic |
| Density | 0.35 - 0.40 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble in water |
| log P | log P = 1.6 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | diamagnetic |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.50–1.52 |
| Viscosity | Free Flowing Powder |
| Dipole moment | 0.00 D |
| Chemical formula | C8H10N2O4 |
| Molar mass | Variable |
| Appearance | Light to dark brown, thinly sliced or whole, wrinkled, and dry with a slightly brittle texture |
| Odor | Characteristic, earthy |
| Density | 0.40 – 0.60 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Slightly soluble |
| log P | log P of Dehydrated Mushroom: 0.48 |
| Acidity (pKa) | 6.5 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 8.1 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | Diamagnetic |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.490 |
| Dipole moment | 0.0 Debye |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 0.895 J/g·K |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -2.85 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -17.20 MJ/kg |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 0.948 J·K⁻¹·g⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -2.18 kJ/g |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -18.29 MJ/kg |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A16AX30 |
| ATC code | A16AX10 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | May form dust; dust may cause respiratory irritation. |
| GHS labelling | GHS: Not classified as hazardous according to GHS |
| Pictograms | Keep dry", "Keep away from sunlight", "Food safe", "Fragile |
| Signal word | No signal word |
| Hazard statements | Not classified as a hazardous product according to GHS. |
| Precautionary statements | Keep in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight. Store in an airtight container after opening. Do not consume if packaging is damaged. Ensure product is fully cooked before consumption. Keep out of reach of children. |
| Autoignition temperature | 150°C |
| LD50 (median dose) | 9.1 g/kg |
| NIOSH | 1103858 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 10 mg/kg |
| REL (Recommended) | REL (Recommended) of product 'Dehydrated Mushroom' is "10g". |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Not established |
| GHS labelling | Not classified as hazardous according to GHS |
| Pictograms | Keep dry", "Keep away from sunlight", "Do not freeze", "Fragile", "Food product", "Keep sealed", "Handle with care |
| Signal word | No signal word |
| Hazard statements | No hazard statements. |
| Precautionary statements | Store in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight. Keep the package tightly sealed. Do not consume if the package is damaged or if the product shows signs of spoilage. Intended for culinary use only. |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | NFPA 704: 1-0-0 |
| Autoignition temperature | 200°C |
| LD50 (median dose) | > 10 g/kg |
| NIOSH | 1102873 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 300 ppm |
| REL (Recommended) | 12 months |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Dehydrated Vegetables Dried Shiitake Mushroom Freeze Dried Mushroom Canned Mushroom Dried Porcini Mushroom Powdered Mushroom Mushroom Extract Mushroom Chips |
| Related compounds |
Dried Shiitake Mushroom Dried Porcini Mushroom Dried Morel Mushroom Dried Oyster Mushroom Powdered Mushroom Freeze-Dried Mushroom Dried Black Fungus Dried Enoki Mushroom |