Tom and the kids went mushroom hunting for morels on Saturday. The haul came to about seven liters, including some whoppers (one below, in Daniel’s hands),
We had some for dinner that night, sauteed in cream with fresh chives from the garden (and organic sea salt from Brittany, so there goes the 100-Mile idea), and the next day I made homemade mushroom soup. The remainder I popped into the freezer, to enjoy the rest of the year.
I hadn’t eaten wild mushrooms regularly until I moved here. I took Tom’s father’s and brother’s mushroom hunting abilities on faith, and when I was still around the next morning realized I was onto something good. I will say that having researched wild mushrooms in books and gone hunting with the men in the family, this is one subject where a book just isn’t a suitable teacher. Being able to see and touch something you’re going to eat that just might not agree with you is a darn sight better than a picture and description.
UPDATED to add:
For more information on mushroom hunting in general and morels in particular, see
The Great Morel website, along with its comprehensive links page (be sure to scroll all the way down) — including, for Angela, one on Wild Harvest, dedicated to morels, fiddlehead ferns, and wild leeks.
