For my Silent Sunday photo last week, I posted two pictures of mushrooms. They were huge, appeared overnight, and really fascinated me for their uniqueness. I walked around the neighborhood checking to see if anyone else had the same. No one did. At least, I didn’t see them in anyone’s front yard.
As soon as I posted them, our Russian “daughter” Anya called to say she was sure the big multiple ones were edible. We ended up removing the mushroom family which just sat on the grass, didn’t even press it down, appeared to have no root of any kind. I put it into a plastic shopping bag which it filled. It was heavy! And delivered it to Anya that afternoon.
The next day she called to say, “We’re still alive!”
They had cooked the entire mushroom, boiling it first, then chopping the mushrooms, sautéing them in butter with potatoes, added sour cream and declared it “delicious.”
The flat one, she said, should be dried and made into a tea. (Really?)
Mushrooms scare me when they’re in the wild. I don’t know poisonous from non-poisonous, although I do recognize morels because for many years my father went mushroom hunting among the moist leaves under Oak trees in our home town “when the temperature was right.” And we would have big “messes” of breaded mushrooms to eat. Mother and Daddy would invite their friends to join in. Now I realize that morels are more valuable than gold. I’ve seen them dried in gourmet food stores for $39 per two ounces! (That’s $312 a pound!)