Morels for Dinner
It rained all night Friday, and throughout most of the day on Saturday, varying from a misty, British-feeling drizzle to a heavy, determined downpour. The world was still dripping when it dawned sunny on Sunday - perfect conditions for morel hunting. Friend Farmer, who has been visiting, found some growing just outside the yurt not long ago, so we thought we'd venture out further and see if there were more patches nearby. I strapped the Wee Farmer to my front, where she likes to ride on long walks (on short walks, she walks!) and Friend Farmer (F.F.), W.F., and I headed down the driveway.
"Wouldn't it be hilarious if we found some right next to the driveway?" F.F. said. And I am not making this up: right then, we looked to the side and saw two of the cream-colored, brain-like fungi tucked just a few feet off the driveway. We plucked them out of the soil with much laughter and surprise.
I thought I'd give it a try. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if we found a HUGE patch of them right next to the driveway?" ... It didn't work a second time, but we did manage to find a total of ten morels Sunday morning - not bad for our first morel-hunt. More importantly, we found them in three different locations, which we carefully noted (and are keeping secret, so don't ask) for future foraging.
Our morel hunt turned up more than mushrooms. We found red, purple, and blue wildflowers we didn't know the names of, a wild bee hive high up in a hole in the side of an oak tree (no sign of Pooh and his balloon, though), deer tracks, and W.F. had a great nap.
For dinner, we lightly sautéed our precious morels in butter and ate them atop pasta with arugula, garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice. It was so simple and delicious - a dish infused with the pleasures of the morning: the smell of wet leaves, the sunlight filtered through the treetops, conversation (you don't have to worry about scaring away the prey on this kind of hunt), the W.F.'s head leaning against my chest as she slept, and the joy of discovery. Yum.
"Wouldn't it be hilarious if we found some right next to the driveway?" F.F. said. And I am not making this up: right then, we looked to the side and saw two of the cream-colored, brain-like fungi tucked just a few feet off the driveway. We plucked them out of the soil with much laughter and surprise.
I thought I'd give it a try. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if we found a HUGE patch of them right next to the driveway?" ... It didn't work a second time, but we did manage to find a total of ten morels Sunday morning - not bad for our first morel-hunt. More importantly, we found them in three different locations, which we carefully noted (and are keeping secret, so don't ask) for future foraging.
Our morel hunt turned up more than mushrooms. We found red, purple, and blue wildflowers we didn't know the names of, a wild bee hive high up in a hole in the side of an oak tree (no sign of Pooh and his balloon, though), deer tracks, and W.F. had a great nap.
For dinner, we lightly sautéed our precious morels in butter and ate them atop pasta with arugula, garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice. It was so simple and delicious - a dish infused with the pleasures of the morning: the smell of wet leaves, the sunlight filtered through the treetops, conversation (you don't have to worry about scaring away the prey on this kind of hunt), the W.F.'s head leaning against my chest as she slept, and the joy of discovery. Yum.

Comments
Post a Comment