There's gold in them there hills!

I've never been lucky with mushroom hunting. Like all Michiganders I am familiar with morels and the lore around them. I keep a sharp eye out when walking in the spring and have gone out once or twice to find some but to no avail.

Always prized and usually elusive, morels are the stuff of legend--the serendipitous glade full of morels found while walking; the secret spots that produce year after year; injunctions about preferred habitats and neighbors: dead oaks, old apple orchards, burn patches. In fact there is no logic--just luck. In this way, morel stories remind of me of fish stories---"and it was THIS big."

Over 14 ounces!

But in recent years, my mother has found one or two each spring in her yard and this May we hit the mother lode! We were positively giddy as we picked them--carefully leaving a few to spore out and hopefully come back again next year.

But what to do with them? While always good simply sautéed in butter with salt and pepper, this seemed to call for a greater effort. But it's actually hard to find a good recipe that celebrates the morel without overwhelming them. In fact, it's hard to find recipes at all. Some of my upper Midwest books mentioned them, but most recipes used dried mushrooms. Others were less than forthcoming with details about cooking them. The consensus was simpler is better. In fact, the morel entry in the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery from 1966 basically implied it was insane to do anything but sauté them.

I did check out Kitchen Magic with Mushrooms from the Mycological Society of San Francisco, but the recipes just didn't appeal. But I do like this book. It is utterly charming with little line drawings in the margins and half sheets illustrating each genus. The cover drew my eye at a book sale because it reminds me of the Florentine papers used in book binding. The recipes, which cover many types of mushrooms, run the gamut from simple to complex. Some are a little convoluted as a way to use up mushrooms and justify the hunt, such as Maramisus Cookies, which combines chocolate chip cookie dough, maraschino cherries and fairy-ring mushrooms. Ugh. Others seem quite palatable, including Puffball French Fries.

I must say that the book has not inspired me to go mushrooming beyond the easily identifiable morel and puffball. The book is quite clear that it is not an identification guide, but reading caution after caution, makes me…well…cautious. Not to mention all those British murder mysteries that employ mushrooms.

In the end, I went with a simple and delicious recipe from Molly O'Neill's A Well-Seasoned Appetite: Recipes from an American Kitchen that mixes sautéed morels with cream, pasta and a little cheese. It was magnificent! This book deserves it own entry, so look for that in the future.

Fettuccine with Morels

1 Tbs butter

3 Tbs chopped shallots

½ pound of fresh morels

1 tsp kosher salt

2 Tbs cognac (I used brandy)

¼ c. heavy cream

2 Tbs. grated Parmesan cheese

1 pound dried fettuccine

3 Tbs chopped Italian parsley

salt and pepper to taste

Melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the shallots and cook until soft, about 3 minutes. Add the morels and salt and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes. Add the cognac or brandy and let cook off a bit. Add the cream and simmer for 5-10 minutes. Longer won't hurt and may be better as long as you keep the heat low--you want to infuse the cream with all the good morel flavor.

Meanwhile, get the pasta water boiling. Cook fettuccine until al dente. Drain, reserving some liquid, and mix with the morels and cream. Add the cheese and parley, pepper, and salt if needed. Add ¼ to ½ cup of pasta liquid to loosen sauce as needed. Like all pastas--eat it while it is hot and fresh. I finally realized that one of the reasons pasta is traditionally served as a first course is because larger portions cool and congeal too quickly. Serves 4 as a main course.

****

I'll close with something I noticed on a trip to New Orleans at the beginning of Carnival season. In making conversation with locals, it seemed natural to ask them where they liked to view parades but I got a weird vibe after asking this. After noticing the hemming and hawing along with the vagueness of the answers I realized, "Oh! That's like asking someone at home where they find their morels. It's simply not done." In fact, even after people move in Michigan they still don't tell their spots (you know who you are!)

Sap season

I have a minor leaning toward learning to live off the grid. I love the Foxfire series of books and the idea of DIY projects like creating a pergola out of repurposed rebar. However, I am not that interested in actually doing the projects--work, friends, books, and other fun gets in the way. Plus, being raised by handy people in farm country teaches you early just how much work is involved in pioneer activities. Thank God for the Rototiller and running water. I may not get any projects done, but my back is still in good shape.
 

Last of the 2013 vintage. Note I failed to filter it.

But I do like complex cooking/food projects. A couple of years ago I noticed the local natural parks and historic sites were all offering demonstrations on how maple syrup is made. Which got me thinking about the maples around me. Were they sugar maples? Could I get something out of them?

I had always heard/assumed that you could only do sugaring if you had a lot of trees and a sugar shack and boiler, etc. That is, it was a job for professionals. But when a friend showed up for brunch one day with a jar of homemade syrup from her old farmer neighbor, I got interested. A little poking around county extension web sites and I found it was a pretty simple process. The hard part of the information gathering was trying to find instructions for the really small-time hobbyist.

The upshot is that this is the 4^th year we've tapped my parents' trees. We don't get a lot of syrup, but it's fun to do and makes me feel like I am getting something for nothing. Plus, we can taste the changes in the syrup as the season goes on, not to mention how it varies from other local producers.

We tapped a little late this year. I don't know what kind of harvest to expect given the unusually harsh winter. But it's nice to go out and check on the trees, see how the sap is running, and listen to the birds chatter at you.

And this is perhaps the ultimate in cook's treats--drinking off a cup of the fresh sap. It's a serious spring tonic when slugged from the collecting jug while surrounded by snow on a sunny day in late February. Crystal clear like spring water, you can taste the light sweetness of sap--but it doesn't just taste like sugared water. There are very slight notes of fruit, flowers, and minerals. I have to stop myself from just drinking it all. Much like when you go berry picking, you have to stop eating the berries already and put some in the bucket.

Most of the homegrown syrup is destined for pancakes, but I like to make buckwheat crepes with sautéed apples at least once--the delicacy of home syrup can really shine through.

Morning Food by Margaret S. Fox and John Bear of Mendocino's Café Beaujolais (Ten Speed Press, 1990) has a recipe that I've been tempted to try for hot cereal cooked in sap. I'm sure it's good, but I don't love hot cereal enough to use the sap on it. Morning Food is a great book that I often flip through on Saturdays for some breakfast inspiration. Café Beaujolais seems like an ideal mix of California's natural foods and indulgent eating. There are Morning Glory Muffins and Waffles with Smoked Turkey Sauce and Birchard Soaked Oats. I always imagine a sun-soaked room with lots of wood and the smell of coffee when I read this book.

I also have The Sugar Bush Connection by Beatrice Ross Buszeck (Nimbus Publishing, 1982), a charming hand lettered book of maple sugar/syrup recipes that I picked up on a glorious lobster- and lupine-filled trip to Prince Edward Island, Canada. This is a book for people overwhelmed with syrup. Many recipes would simply cost too much for most people to make, but I love the ingenuity of these cold-country cooks determined to use up something so hard-won. Her recipe for Spring Tonic sounds like it will cure anything that ails you: 

Spring Tonic

¼ c. maple syrup

¼ c. lime juice

1 c. light rum

1 c. ginger ale

Combine and stir well. Pour over crushed ice. Serving size is not indicated, but I am assuming 1-4 depending on you guests' tolerances for grog.

And in late breaking news. I spotted this at my local health food store (go Arbor Farms!): commercial Maple Tree Water. I don't know whether to be appalled or impressed with their entrepreneurial energy. But this is America, and if you can dream it you can sell it.

It's called sap, people

Dreaming of Spring

How to Eat: The Pleasure and Principle of Good Food

by Nigella Lawson

John Wiley & Sons 2000

It's been over 10 weeks since there wasn't snow on the ground and I am ready to crack. Growing up in Michigan, I am used to a real winter, but this has one truly has been brutal with more snow and more cold days than I remember since I was in elementary school.

I am sick of seeing only white and gray outside. I need some green. And if I can't see it outside, then maybe I can at least eat something green. The seed catalogs have been piling up and I just sorted and tabulated the seeds leftover from last year, so I have gardening on the brain.

Perhaps it is foolhardy to look at veggie catalogs and dream of tomatoes and zucchini that you will not be able to eat for 5 more months, but those catalog writers know what they are doing and they are torturing me.

 

In response, I have been craving spring vegetables including peas, asparagus, and artichokes. Having just seen Nigella Lawson wrapping up the latest season of the Taste, I remembered that she's a pea-lover and a fun and interesting read.

How to Eat is one of Nigella's more substantial books with no glamor shots of the author and a high text-to-recipe ratio. It is a primer of sort; she works seriously at getting readers to think about cooking as well as teaching basic skills. There are no photos of the food, which may be a detraction in a book for beginners, but it clearly didn't bother me as I didn't even notice the lack of photos until I sat down to write this.

She has several recipes that involve peas, and she points out how useful frozen peas are. I love Nigella, because despite the recent kerfuffle over her lifestyle with the thousand dollar dresses and the expensive drug habit, she really is not a snob at all when it comes to food. She's practical when she needs to be and indulgent when she wants to be.

While I have made her Peas and Avocado Salad before, this time out I made her Pea Risotto. What drew me to the recipe was the use of pea puree in the risotto as well as whole peas--it turns the whole risotto a pale green. Plus, I also happened to have some of the recommended ham stock on hand:

Pea Risotto

4 Tbs butter

1 cup frozen young peas

4 cups ham stock

2 Tbs grated Parmesean

black pepper

nutmeg

2 shallots or 1 small onion, minced

1 cup Arborio rice

½ c. white wine or vermouth

Now, Nigella is a bit wordy in this book, and while I love reading that type of recipe, I don't enjoy typing it out, so I am going to paraphrase. If you are uncertain about risotto making procedures, then I encourage you to seek out the original recipe as she does a good job of walking one through the process. But here is the quick version:

Melt 1 Tbs of butter in a sauce pan and add the peas. Cook for 2 minutes. Remove half of the peas and reserve. To the remaining peas add a ladle of stock (about ½ c.).  Cover and cook for 5 minutes until the peas are soft, but still green. Puree the mixture with 1 Tbs of cheese and 1 Tbs of butter, a little black pepper and a little nutmeg. Set aside.

In a heavy pan, melt 1 Tbs of butter and cook the shallots for about 4 minutes until softened. Then add the rice, stirring to coat with the fat. Add the wine and let the rice absorb it. After that, add the stock in ½ cup increments until the rice is cooked through, about 15-20 minutes--you may need more or less stock. Add the reserved peas and pea puree. Turn off the heat. Taste, add salt and pepper if needed (you may not if you use ham stock) and then stir in the remaining butter and Parmesean. I find all risottos benefit from a little 5-minute rest before serving.

Serves 4 as a side dish; 2 as a main dish if you are not greedy. The color is glorious and the taste is of spring. Not bad Nigella! Too bad we ate it all before I thought of taking a picture.