Much to my surprise I received a package in the mail today, that had a couple of plastic bags of dried mushrooms in it. No, not those mushrooms (I just lost half of my readers from the west coast), but dried morels. They are a culinary delight.
Growing up in Roblin, every spring would bring a bounty of fresh morels, that dad, and sometimes the rest of us, would pick. If memory serves me correct the usual method of serving them was to fry them in butter and serve them on toast. Now I have to confess that when I was young I wasn't much of a fan of eating fungi, morels included, but now that I'm almost grown I've grown to love morels.
The unfortunate thing is I never get to eat them anymore (collective sigh). My brother still picks them come spring, but the high arctic is a long way from their range of distribution. So I do without. Until today. Now I've got to come up with away to incorporate them. I'm thinking a burger, topped with a morel sauce made with reconstituted morels, onion, garlic fried in butter, followed by a slice or two of truffel that I brought back from France. Or perhaps a tenderloin of caribou, topped with a morel sauce of chopped fried morels, garlic, reduced chicken and liquids left over from the reconstitution and perhaps some apple juice. Hmm, yeah, with a healthy dollop of pepper. Or maybe just fried in butter and served on toast.