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Morel Mushroom Soup -- The Woods, the Boy, and What We Carry Forward

Morel season in May. I'd been looking forward to it for months—after the closed-in feel of winter and the careful rhythms of the pandemic months, there was something about the morel search that I needed. The absorption of it, the low-to-ground focus, the woods returning to themselves.

I took Kai with me this year on the serious search, not just for the backyard introduction he'd had last year. We went out to the creek bottom on the far side of the lease on a Saturday morning when the temperature was right—cool but not cold, overnight lows still above forty. I showed him what to look for: the honeycombed cap, the way they stand up from the leaf litter, the habitat patterns around dying elms and old apple trees. He found the first one himself, about twenty minutes in, and the sound he made when he saw it was the pure satisfaction of a person who has been looking for something and found it.

He found four more in the next hour. I found maybe fifteen overall. We brought them home and cooked them the right way—butter, salt, nothing else. He ate them standing at the stove and declared this the best thing that had ever happened.

I thought about the first time Danny showed me morel season. I was maybe eight or nine. He'd taken me to the same general stretch of creek, shown me the same indicators. The knowledge is direct-line from him to me to Kai, in that specific woods, which has its own kind of beauty if you think about it for too long.

I thought about it for a while on the drive home with Kai asleep in the back seat. It was a good kind of thinking.

We ate them standing at the stove that first night—just butter and salt, the way they deserved. But the haul Kai and I brought home was generous enough that I wanted to do something that would slow us down and make the moment last a little longer. This morel mushroom soup is what I turned to: it keeps the mushrooms at the center, lets that deep woodsy flavor carry the whole bowl, and feels like the right thing to make when the ingredients came from somewhere that matters to you.

Morel Mushroom Soup

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 lb fresh morel mushrooms, cleaned and halved lengthwise
  • 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
  • 1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 tablespoon dry sherry (optional)
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Clean the mushrooms. Rinse morels gently under cold water, checking inside the caps for any debris. Halve them lengthwise and pat dry with paper towels.
  2. Sauté the morels. Melt 2 tablespoons of butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Add the morels in a single layer and cook without stirring for 2–3 minutes until golden on one side. Stir and cook another 2 minutes. Remove mushrooms and set aside.
  3. Build the base. Reduce heat to medium and add the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter. Add the diced onion and cook until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and thyme and cook 1 minute more.
  4. Make the roux. Sprinkle flour over the onion mixture and stir to coat. Cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring constantly, until the flour smells nutty and lightly golden.
  5. Add broth. Pour in the broth gradually, whisking as you go to prevent lumps. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
  6. Finish with cream. Stir in the heavy cream and sherry if using. Return the sautéed morels to the pot. Simmer on low for 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
  7. Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley. Serve with crusty bread for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 620mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 171 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

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