sueeeus

…fruits of the forest

…dangerously delicious

While on the phone with my sister, and forced outside to obtain a clear signal, I discovered some very odd looking mushrooms growing amongst the bark chips. I picked one and brought it in for some google research.

Lo and behold, the elusive, the mighty, the morel. Morchella elata, to be precise.

Brave Stupid All those warnings and red flags about lethal mushrooms mixed with memories of childhood tales of that most sought after specimen of culinary delight. I sauteed the first one in some butter. It was to die for (although I hoped not literally). I gathered my courage, collected the crop, and proceeded to make this.

I’m not a pasta aficionado, but the recipe sounded so good that I thought I’d give it a try. I followed the recipe completely, with the addition of shallots. After much toil –it takes quite a bit of effort to roll out pasta dough to the appropriately thin consistency, the result is was, indeed, divine.

Oh. My. Goodness. As an old friend would say, budgasmic. But I don’t speak like that. Of course, anything that’s cooked in butter and cream can hardly help but taste incredible. Especially if there’s garlic and shallot involved. I happily indulged, all the while wondering in the back of my mind how much of an idiot I am for eating something so questionable. I’d feel so much more comfortable had I found the mushrooms at the local grocer, rather than in the wild. My pioneer spirit won (after considerable reading and comparison of photos, dissection and inspection). And I did live to tell.

Mr. Gadget wanted no part in this, and of course I wouldn’t try to extend such an experiment to my loved ones. I fashioned a nice red sauce for them. Safe. Fresh roma tomatoes, basil, garlic, onion, and beef.

Dinner at 9 p.m. isn’t the best of ideas, though. If ever I’m fool enough to attempt pasta from scratch again, I should start by 3.

And speaking of fools, today marks four happy years with the Gadget man. Four years ago today, we stood together in a little chapel on the Vegas strip, and said I do. I picked April 1st. My quirky sense of humor. It’s a date that’s easy to remember. Isn’t our wedding announcement fun We went to a photo booth and inserted our faces on a magazine cover (I always wanted to be a dancing girl, deep down inside).  We got the license plate as a souvenir from the chapel, and I merged it all together (covering the scantily clad parts so as to make the announcement more office appropriate).  People at work thought it was a joke — they didn’t believe that I really did run off and get married.  It was a fun reveal.  Four years later, and all is well.  Four fleeting years.  My, how swiftly they’ve passed.