The mother of all morels

Posted on May 16, 2010

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I love morels.  I love them sauteed in butter.  I love them grilled.  I love dried ones simmered in soup.  But can I ever find them?  I cannot.  Well, mostly I cannot.  All around me, though, people are finding them.  Looky here:

From Cub Reporter Babs Young:  I’m not a big morel hunter or eater, but driving down my driveway the other day I found seven of these in my flower bed. That is the first picture below of three. There were seven more, but I will spare you the pictues of these.

Then Chris Szejbach called and said the mother of all morels was growing near the red school house. I ran down right away and the last two photos are of Mother Morel. You can probably see it if you stop in for breakfast tomorrow at Sonny’s. (That’s Sonny’s hand.)

I heard from Chris, too: This is the largest mushroom I have ever seen! Weighed it at the store for proof, too.

OK, so I am going to breakfast at Sonny’s bright and early Monday morning. I think I’ll order a grilled morel steak with crispy hashbrowns on the side.

For those of you from Away, morels are the sacred wild mushrooms of the Michigan Peninsulas, celebrated in song, story, and folk festival.

  • This year’s Mesick Lions Mushroom Festival, scheduled for May 7-9, was called on account of stupendously lousy weather, but the Mesick Lions are not ones to give up. They are holding the Great Do-Over on June 11-13. I am so impressed with their never-say-die spirit that I believe I’ll go over there for some pasties and some mud throwing.
  • The National Morel Mushroom Festival was this weekend in Boyne City.  I’m sorry not to have sent you over there earlier, but I’ve had a lot on my mind.  Go to the website anyway.  Those of you with decent internet service can hear The Mushroomers Waltz by Robin Lee Berry.
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