If you don't know what you're looking at, you probably don't live in Indiana or are not a Hoosier native. This, dear reader, is a morel mushroom, one of the most delectable morsels of heaven ever discovered. It grows in the Midwest (Michigan is prime real estate) and only appears for a short time in the early spring after a rain when the weather warms and the leaves on the oak tree are the size of a squirrel's ear. You have to know where to search and you must have a knowledge of trees, as they tend to grow around and under certain species. The locations are kept strictly secret; very few people will divulge the best hunting grounds and you rarely will be given any freebies. However, I must say, that some people have harvested them right in their manicured front yards, so this elusive little morsel can pop up in the most unusual places.
We've been back in Indiana for 8+ years now and have yet to find even one. We've begged, intimated, cried, hinted and outright asked the natives for some help, to no avail. BUT this year, some blessed soul took pity on us and brought us this "first fruits" found on her property. She gave them to us last night just before the Maundy Thursday service. It was hard to concentrate on the service but we managed to persevere. We were home only 2 minutes before the little pieces of ambrosia were submerged in salt water to rid themselves of bugs and mites that might be lurking inside. We cleaned and cut them into bite-sized pieces, dredged them in a secret mixture and fried them in mounds of butter. Are you salivating yet? Then, taking them right from the sizzling skillet, we popped them into our starved-for, can't-get-enough-of tiny bits of manna from heaven. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So in the early spring when you see cars parked along any road in Indiana, happen to glance people carrying mesh onion bags, run into people tramping through the woods in your own back yard, or get a call from "friends" who found a bushel basket full, don't be surprised. It's time for "musharoonin'" and you ain't invited, Jack!
3 comments:
Boy would I like some of those. I can taste them just looking at the picture. Can you remember when dad came home with bushels of them? Found them in a little grove of trees off of 18. People are scared to death of them here in Pa.
Yes, I do remember Dad finding so many that he just piled them in the backseat of the car because he didn't have any more containers. I think I was around 7 or 8 years old. And do you remember that Dad found them on a Sunday morning while the rest of the family went to church?
Good memories of good eats!!
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