Every year about this time, we begin to dream the morel dream: to find lots and lots of morel mushrooms in the woods here on our farm. There was one year we and our friend Rod will never forget. Each year we wish for a repeat, alas, it has not yet happened.
A look back at the Morel Hunt of 1990 or so......
The Mighty Morel Marauders Ride Again
Hey, Frank, Hey Jane it rained today!
Ah, yep, Rod it did.
Tomorrow should be a good day for morels,
Come on over and we’ll go take a look.
Well, we hiked through the briers and we hiked through the brambles,
We pushed through the brush were a rabbit would not go,
We hiked on back til we came to the beaver dam,
Crossed over the dam to the land of morels.
Ah hah, cried Frank, I found the first morel,
Oh yes said Rod, but I spy one too!
We searched and we rooted, we sought and we foraged,
Neither tick nor rain could keep us from our task.
Rod emerged as supreme morel finder,
Jane was next with a plump plastic bag,
Then came Frank, just a half bucket full.
Quite a nice haul, for first day of the season.
The mighty morel marauders, done picking for the day.
Rode back home in Rod’s fancy blue truck.
Rain in the forecast, more morels should spring up.
We’ll ride out to seek them later this week.
Washed and drained four pounds of morels.
One pound for eating tonight, roll in egg, then in flour
fry ‘em in butter, and yum yum yum!!!
A Tranquility Pastures’ taste of heaven.
Three pounds blanched and into the dehydrator.
Put ‘em away for a cold winter’s day.
Ewell Gibbons would sure be impressed,
Wild asparagus, we’re stalking you next!