At least 2 years before we had M, I discovered morels. For a person who spent every summer as a kid digging clams on Cape Cod, there are a lot of parallels to be drawn between digging clams and hunting mushrooms. Both are slow paced, intensely focused outdoor activities. Both require you to spend a good deal of time creeping about on your hands and knees. Both garner you strange looks from passers by and both reward you with hand harvested delicacies that most people have only eaten in a restaurant or purchased at a supermarket. With 18+ years of practice under my belt, I can glance at a hole in the sand and tell you if it conceals a quahog, steamer or razor clam, how big it is and how far below the surface it is likely to be. With only 5 years experience landclamming (as I call mushroom hunting), I'm not nearly that good. I've found 2 reliable spots in the area, but I spend far more time on wild goose chases than I do finding dinner.
This is the week that morels generally appear in Westchester- the last week of May and first weeks of June. Armed with a mesh bag and a jackknife, this is the week that I begin creeping quietly along the trails of my hometown and other nearby woodsy areas. I stop every 4 feet, drop to my hands and knees-- sometimes I even lie flat on the ground-- eye the trailside like a pool shark and try to think like a mushroom. Often I come up empty handed. Last year I found one; the year before that, none and the year before that quite a few. One year we found enough to make dinner out of them twice-- gently floured and fried crisp in butter they melt in your mouth and taste nothing like mushrooms. Served with a nice grilled steak... ::insert drooling Homer Simpson sound::
Yesterday we went on our first hunt at a reliable spot that owns a small piece of my heart. I don't know why I find this path so compelling; it's not particularly beautiful or particularly quiet or particularly anything, but it is littered with ruins and rock outcroppings and streams and all sorts of beautiful little finds that keep me coming back for more. When Julie and I had different work schedules I used to use my days alone to wander along the path, noting every teeny tiny change and watching spring ephemerals give way to lush green waysides and late June wineberries. I'd pack my wildflower, tree and mushroom guides along and try to identify and memorize everything's name, calling on skills that I haven't used since an awesome college botany class over a decade (a decade?????) ago.
Sadly, we didn't find any mushrooms; I think the weather has still been a touch too dry and a touch too cold. I'm waiting for 3 days in the high 60's, low 70's, followed by a rain storm and then two warm days for those tasty little suckers to pop. But I was thrilled to locate some new-to-me plants growing along this favored trail.
In addition to the expected dog-tooth violets, lilly-of-the-valley shoots, garlic mustard, solomon's seal, violets and skunk cabbage skunk cabbage I was super excited to find blue cohosh, bloodwort, marsh marigolds (though I kinda knew they were there, but had forgotten about them) and a carpet of periwinkle. Here's hoping that the next few days bring fiddlehead ferns, ramps and 'SHROOMS!!
 |
| Blue Cohosh |
 |
Periwinkle
|
 |
| Bloodwort |
