Breakfast of Champignons

We tend to think of autumn as the season for a mushroom hunt, but there are a few all-year rounders, like the Oyster, the Jew's Ear, etc. and spring also brings a few favourites like the St. George's mushroom - short lived and rather bland. There is, however, nothing to compare with the spring Morel, as shown above.

I have bought many dried Morels both in France, Italy and here, but I have only ever found one fresh one, growing in the wild. Having spent many fruitless seasons tramping around the fringes of woods and meadows looking for a handful of Morels to take back home and use with any number of delicious recipes (the dried ones are particularly good with game meat, as well as poultry, in a cream and pepper sauce - they are also very good just put in with some scrambled eggs, after you have fried them in butter), one day I struck, sort of, lucky.

I stepped out of my car about 4 years ago, and almost straight on to a lone Morel which was growing in a patch of rough land on the edge of the car-park where I work. I did not have the heart to pick it, partly because - being only one - it's taste would have been lost on me or drowned out by the rest of the ingredients. The gypsies have a tradition that if you set a small fire on the floor of a forest, Morels will surely follow a year or two later. Sure enough, this Morel was growing right on a patch of land where some criminals had burned out a stolen car a year before, and it looked quite healthy.

You can see from the photo that it is important to clean out all the dirt and soil from the openings of the main body of the mushroom, as it tends to collect there as it rises from the ground.

Unfortunately, this particular spot on the car park is also the favourite place for all the local dogs to leave their solid and liquid calling cards, so that was the other reason why the little thing remained untouched for the duration of it's short appearance on earth.