A strict morel code

As much as I seek a partner with good moral fiber, it may be just as important -- perhaps moreso -- to locate a lover with a good lead on morels.

What? Don't give me that stern look. Morel season is only, like, two weeks long here in the DC area. I just picked up a handful of the elusive little guys for $10 at the Columbia Heights farmers' market two weekends ago. I was literally skipping on my way home with them in my tote bag.



The next morning I tried a couple of them sauteed with butter and some wild leeks I'd picked up at the Glover Park farmers' market. Served on homemade sourdough: yum. (Yes, for those of you keeping track, that was two farmers' market visits in one day. I like to make the rounds.)



Okay, actually, I had that for breakfast a few mornings in a row. A few made their way into a vegetable chowder that my friend Ben was privy to midweek. Near the end of the week, my friend Joe stopped by and since we were both hungry we played my favorite game -- "what can I make with the random stuff in my fridge" -- with some fresh ginger, a pot of brown rice, some scallions, mustard greens, walnuts, the tiniest splash of soy sauce, and the last few morels. It was heavenly. Quite possibly the BEST fried rice I have ever tasted. Good lord, I love morels.

I need to eat as many of these little guys as I can get my hands on during the small window of time they are available. A friend in Nebraska recently sent me this photo:



Yep, their season is a little behind ours on the East Coast this year, due to a general lack of rainfall. Not that I am wishing drought on anyone, especially such an agriculturally focused state, but I do believe it has slightly delayed their morel season.... Conveniently. In less than a week, I will be heading to one of the very few states in this big, beautiful country of ours that I have yet to visit. True, I will not have Ollie with me -- I'm flying this time -- but, really, that just means more morels for me. Oh. Er. I mean, I will miss her dearly. And we'll go for a nice long ride when I return. But let there be no mistake: I do mean to eat as many non-poisonous shrooms as I can find while I am in Johnny Carson's birth state.