Mushroom love affair

 

Years ago when I walked in the Swiss woods during weekends I often saw families picking mushrooms. Most had wicker baskets making a lovely picturesque scene.

How lovely, I thought. I did not worry that some of the mushrooms would be poison. I knew the local pharmacist  would look at each one pronouncing them safe or not.

In a village where I spent my weekends, there was a group of mushroom lovers that once a year had a mushroom night with all types of mushrooms, good and bad on display. Their dinner was made of mushrooms in various dishes. Yummy.

Growing up I thought there was just one kind of mushroom what is often called Parish mushrooms. I now know there are hundreds. 

The Wikipedia definition "A mushroom ... is the fleshy, spore bearing fruiting body of a fungus, typically produced above ground, on soil, or on its food source."

That doesn't sound all that appetizing, but I've enjoyed them so many ways with pastas, in sauces, marinated,  etc.

 

                                                                                                                  My favorite will always be the morel  

 

Whenever I see any dish made with morels on a restaurant menu, I will order that dish

I have yet to pick my own mushrooms, even knowing they can be certified at my local pharmacy. 

Walking the dog mornings, he passes a giant mushroom, reminding me of one I used to pass coming home from work, only that one was dark brown reminding me how I wanted a piece of chocolate. For all I know neither one was a good or bad mushroom

Writing this blog has made me want morels. Not quite the season. Sigh.