EARLY MAY, SOMEWHERE IN THE METRO AREA
The blue sky, gentle breeze and sunshine have us fooled. It feels like midspring as the four of us set out for today's hunt, all of us dressed for the occasion, never mind the warmth: long, heavy pants, long-sleeved shirt, boots and backpack. I reach for the Off! Deep Woods repellent for a quick spritz to deter ticks.
Michael Karns, Dennis Becker and Lisa Golden Schroeder hit the trail ahead of me, Becker's camera dangling from his shoulder. The trio have tramped many paths together over the past two years as they gathered content for their recently published "Untamed Mushrooms: From Field to Table, a Midwestern Guide" (Minnesota Historical Society Press, 316 pages, $24.95), which offers food for thought, along with recipes, on the 13 most common edible wild mushrooms in the region.
And they do mean "wild," in the truest sense of the word. These are fungi found on the forest floor and along tree trunks, not cultivated or misrepresented about where they were grown. And don't get Karns, a certified mycological identification expert, started on the quintessential cultivated variety, the button mushroom. Really. Don't.
"Let's be serious. Most of what you see that's called wild, in the stores and restaurants, isn't. And that button mushroom is the same as a cremini and portobello, just differentiated by age and the growing process," he said, shaking his head. "Cremini is a brown variety of the same species. Portobellos, that's a made-up name that sounds Italian."
Today, we search for the elusive morel, specifically the yellow variety (Morchella esculentoides), which often starts the season gray, one of the four easiest-to-identify edible mushrooms in our region, along with those that follow later in the season, the golden chanterelles (Cantharellus cibarius), chicken of the woods (Laetiporus sulphureus and Laetiporus cincinnatus) and giant puffballs (Calvatia gigantea).
We are a couple of weeks early, the soil still too cool to support the growth of morels, which need three to five nights above 40 degrees and soil that's warm to a depth of 6 inches before they appear.
Despite the unlikelihood of success today — though we check south-facing slopes, just in case — we, like a few others on the trail, are out for the sheer pleasure of the walk.