Monday, May 11, 2009
I grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland. I wouldn't eat mushrooms for a long time after my brother told me, (while eating mushroom soup), that mushrooms were a fungus...just like that white stuff you find on sticks outside. Ewwww.
I had never heard of morels until moving to Illinois when in the spring everyone has a story of how many hours they spent hunting for mushrooms and how many pounds they found.
Two years ago I ate my first morel. It was sauteed in butter and I immediately fell in love. I love mushrooms!
So, this year I made it my goal to hunt for my own. I went out on Saturday with a seasoned hunter and after two hours and 4 stops we didn't find any.
Sunday morning (happy mother's day) I slipped out of the house at 7:30 in the morning and walked down into the woods beside my house. I was determined. When my eye spotted this group it sunk in excitement. There were 2 more just beside them.
I was taught to look under or around dying elm trees. But this huge morel was just laying in some thick weeds and ground cover. I found several more in the same area.
I soaked them for a few hours in salt water and then set them out to dry for a while. Here is the lot of them!
I made spaghetti for dinner and sauteed half of them. M, P, and I loved them. S is much like his father in that he will NOT eat a mushroom. Oh well, more for the girls!
at 7:51 AM