Verpa

I have been eagerly anticipating the arrival of morels at the market this spring. As they are one of my favorite mushrooms, I was quite excited when I rounded the corner and saw a big basket of what I thought were these early spring delicacies at Foraged and Found Edibles.
"Morels!" I exclaimed.
"No, those are verpa" the guy said.
"They look just like morels" I replied.
"Not to me they don't. To me it's like the difference between broccoli and cauliflower."
As I began to pick through the basket and gather up a small stash of these mystery morel-wanna-be's, a woman came up and I overheard nearly the exact conversation that I had just had with the mushroom expert only moments ago. So, at least I wasn't the only one; it's always more comforting to know that your ignorance is shared with someone else.

Upon closer inspection at home, I could tell the difference between the verpa bohemica (also known as Early Morel) and a true morel. Right off it was apparent that the verpa had a much higher water content as they appeared more moist and fungus-y looking than the usually dry morel. This was also confirmed by the mushroom expert who had told me to cook them for a long time in order to cook off all of the water. Another difference was that the stem, while being hollow just like a morel stem, was totally separate from the pine cone like cap. It attached at the very top and came out quite easily when pulled apart. I realize that my observations are hardly scientific or precise, but it's interesting to note how two things which appear to be so similar at first glance can really be quite different upon further inspection. A good reason to leave things such as this up to the experts.

After consulting my mushroom "bible" All That the Rain Promises and More... by David Arora (check out the awesome cover) I found yet another reason to let someone else pick mushrooms for me. Not only does Mr. Arora say that verpa are not recommended to eat, he also says that they can be poisonous if eaten in large amounts! While some might see this as a reason not to eat these mushrooms at all, I on the other hand, was excited that I could try something that I would never otherwise have tried on my own. Having faith in your mushroom expert is a very good thing.

As with nearly all mushrooms, I find that the simplest preparation is the best. I first cleaned the verpa very well, discarding the stems, and then chopped them coarsely. I heated a little butter in a pan, then sauteed the mushrooms until the water had evaporated and it looked like they had dried out a bit. After flavoring them with salt, pepper, and fresh thyme, they made the perfect filling for an omelette. I am glad to report, as you might have guessed, that we were not poisoned. In fact, they were quite lovely. Not moist or slimy at all, just simple and earthy. A good replacement to hold me over until the true morels are truly ready.

Fiddlehead Ferns

While perhaps not as scary or threatening as the stinging nettles reported on a few weeks ago, Fiddlehead ferns are certainly not your average vegetable. They really do come from ferns, copious amounts of which blanket the forests and parks here in the Pacific Northwest. The fiddlehead part refers to the tightly wound coil of the young fern shoots. There is about a two week window in the spring where this new growth is tender enough to eat, just before it unfurls into the common fern frond. It is at this point when the Fiddlehead ferns can be harvested for consumption (by professionals, of course), as they were by one of my favorite purveyors, Foraged and Found Edibles.

Wanting the ferns to maintain their crisp texture, I knew that cooking them for a long period of time was certainly out of the question. We first started by rinsing them thoroughly and then trimming off the bottom of the stem ends. As we already had the grill fired up, I decided to give them the simple treatment of olive oil, salt and pepper before putting them into a "grilling skillet" (just a pan with holes in it so that you can grill small things without losing them). Once they were mostly tender when poked with a fork, we pulled them and served them alongside a delicious pork chop and some grilled bread.

At first bite, this unusual vegetable struck me as tasting very similar to asparagus, or perhaps a cross between an asparagus and a green bean. But then the bitterness came. I don't think I cooked them long enough. They still tasted mostly raw, and their texture was closer to celery than that of a perfectly cooked asparagus. So I will attribute the bitter aftertaste to user error, not an inherent flaw of the fiddlehead. Next time I try them, I'll perhaps blanch them for a minute or two before grilling or sauteeing them. So if you're ever in the market for a whimsical-looking side dish, hopefully you can learn from my mistakes and try your own hand at the Fiddlehead ferns!