Guess who found morels on Mother's Day? ME! It was ME!!! Seven of them!!! Can you believe it??
Actually, I found more, but it's proper mushroom etiquette to leave some behind. It was hard, but I did comply. Barely. Your next question, I'm going to guess, is where exactly I found these morels (especially if you arrived here by Googling "morels Massachusetts" or "morels Boston"). But I'm not telling you where I found them, so don't ask. If you do ask, I'll be happy to draw you a perplexing map—one you will be unlikely to decipher since my sense of direction is terrible and I can't draw for shit. However, if you do manage to figure it out, the trail will magically lead you to the morel bin at Russo's because why not just buy them from the store if you're going to have someone tell you exactly where to look. That's missing the whole point: the thrill of the hunt! You have to find your own spots. I've clocked nearly a dozen hours in the woods over the last week and a half to find these and I've loved every second of it. Except for the part where the mosquitos were biting me. I didn't love that part. But the rest was awesome and you'll love it, too. (Just bring bug spray.)
Here I am cutting my very first morel with the pocketknife Husband gave me for Mother's Day. I literally could not believe my eyes when I first spotted it. I froze for a second, then began frantically fumbling around for my camera as if it would disappear at any moment. Then I saw another one about a foot away. The rest I found in another location. Thank god nobody else was around to hear me giggling and talking to myself as I collected them. I mean, except for the jogger who came charging up behind me out of nowhere. (Dude, the next time you run up behind a woman like that in a completely isolated area, you might want to announce loudly and clearly that you're not a rapist or you're likely to get a pocketknife to the heart.)
When I brought the mushrooms home, the children were very excited and unanimously declared them to be "yellow morels, not black morels." (They keep stealing all of my mushroom books.) Husband insisted that I get a second opinion about the edibility of these mushrooms before I cooked them—a second opinion besides the children's. I thought I might as well set a good example for you guys for a change, right? So I grudgingly returned the stick of butter in my hand to the refrigerator and proceeded to contact Russ Cohen, local wild edibles guru. He confirmed that they were, indeed, yellow morels. Huzzah! I'll let you imagine the seven-bite feeding frenzy that followed!
In my next post, I'll share some tips for finding your own morels as well as my favorite mushroom books. And, yes, I'll get that post up this week, keep your pants on.