In a quarter-century since migrating from the South, I've found it easy to embrace Minnesota's treasures: the lakes and the tasty walleye lurking in them; the towering male icons (Paul Bunyan and Garrison Keillor) and their wholesome female counterparts (Betty Crocker and Mary Richards); the State Fair and the way we chant "ooooh" in the "Minnesota Rouser."
But there's one notable exception: I don't "get" morels. Oh, they're tasty enough, better than some mushrooms, fun to look at and touch. As far as a flavor assessment goes, though, in my adopted parlance they're "interesting."
So why is a pound of morels fetching up to $60, the same as a season-long senior pass at Valleyfair, and almost twice as much as the same amount of lump crabmeat?
The reasons, according to two local chefs, are many and varied: morels' status as the lone spring-sprouting mushroom, the thrill of "the hunt," an earlier season than usual and the "foodie" movement, especially among younger adults.
And perhaps just a bit of bandwagon craziness, according to one of the region's foremost locavores. "I don't understand what's going on," said Lenny Russo, chef and owner of St. Paul's Heartland restaurant. "People paying that much don't know what they're doing.
"I don't know if they think they're going to have some kind of transcendental experience with these, but morels are not that mushroom."
Russo likes morels, but not as much as several other mushrooms, citing porcini, golden chanterelle, hen of the woods and matsutake. A counterpoint comes from counterpart Don Saunders of In Season restaurant in Minneapolis.
"Flavor-wise, I do think they're 'all that,'" Saunders said. "Another factor that makes them so cool is that they pair so well with almost any other fun spring ingredients: ramps, peas, artichokes, wild salmon, lamb, fiddleheads, wild greens, etc.