I’ve had the fever for about three weeks now.
Morel madness.
There’s no known cure. Once the thought of tracking down God’s most delicious fungus is stuck in your brain, there’s no ridding yourself of it.
The only hope is to locate a patch, and satisfy the longing later that day with a delicious meal of fried morels.
Thankfully, this weekend, I finally had success, so my fever is subsiding. After trekking five miles through several different conservation areas over the past couple weeks (on the two days I could actually get away), my father and I went back to our favorite tried and true spot.
Sweet success! A decent haul… 107 total, assuming my daughters counted correctly.
So Saturday evening, we enjoyed a feast. Morel mushrooms… hand-breaded, pan-fried in butter, and served with fresh-caught crappie prepared the same.
Spring’s finest meal.
So, is this the point where I mention that morels are among the most unappealing foods on the planet, and any kind of fish – crappie included – are also among the list of disturbing foods one could put in their mouth?