Mushrooms on Mt. Graham

This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.– Psalm 118:24

April 14, 2021: I was unable to find the published version of this article which included a remembrance of Dad after he died in the next year.  So he was alive when I wrote this draft of the article. That seems really cool now. Besides I don’t need to add a remembrance of him.  His own words say it all. – D

“Other kids said they were getting tired of looking at that old mountain, but I’d just look up at it and see the most beautiful place in the world.”– Bill Layton, childhood remembrance 

I wasn’t expecting to find mushrooms in the desert southwest, but southeast Arizona isn’t all desert any more than Iowa is all cornfields. Beautiful wooded “island” mountains emerge from the desert in this part of Arizona. Mount Graham, near my dad’s hometown of Safford, is one of the prettiest. 

            My brother Charlie, son Will and I visited Dad and our step mom, Vivian, in late July of 2007 during monsoon season in southeast Arizona. Summer monsoons in Arizona happen when moisture channels up that way from the Gulf of California. My dad says that during the monsoons it’s not unusual to get a couple of inches of rain a day in the desert. “A couple of inches between drops that is.” Ah, but during the 2007 monsoon Mt. Graham selfishly collected thunder clouds and many inches of rain.

When Dad, Charlie, Will and I went up to the top of the mountain, it had been raining for days on end. The wildflowers were brilliant. The plants were green and the mushrooms were everywhere. I soon learned a lesson. Excitement at 9,000 feet quickly translates into shortness of breath for an unacclimated, middle-aged Iowan. So I struggled to regain my breath as I came across clump after clump of Cauliflower mushrooms (Sparissa crispa) or brilliant orange Gomphus or the largest Russulas I’ve ever seen. Interspersed with those were abundant Clitocybes, Pholiotas, Collybias and the largest Train Wrecker (Lentinus lepideus) I’ve ever seen growing from an ancient pine stump.  We found all of these mushrooms within a few hundred yards of our car. 

            Even my 81 year-old dad enjoyed the excitement of the find, though he mainly sat near the car grinning at me, wondering what I was going to do with all that weird stuff I was bringing back. It was a good thing he was with us. I might still be wandering around up there if he weren’t there to keep us anchored. I explained that the Cauliflower fungus would be good with his homegrown spaghetti squash that he planned to cook for us later. Though skeptical, he was willing to try the mushrooms if I could prove they were any good first. So we stopped at the new Safford library on the way back. While Will went looking for the historical section and Charlie investigated cookbooks, Dad sat with me while I explained the matching characteristics between our mushrooms and those in the books. Once he was satisfied he became enthusiastic about the cooking. He was already familiar with Morels.

            That day had two high points. One was finding the mushrooms and the next was eating the cauliflower mushrooms later. I’d never found them before, but that night we ate all we wanted with spaghetti squash and marinara sauce. But before we could eat them, we had to clean them. The sandy mountain soil had blown into the pits of the Sparrisa and packed so tight that the sink sprayer couldn’t get it out. Dad came up with the idea of one of us holding and brushing the fungus  while the other sprayed it outside with the garden hose. It seemed like a good idea and Vivian was happy we were taking our mess outside. We returned to the house to much laughter. We were both fairly soaked, but we had plenty of clean mushrooms ready for cooking.

            Fortunately, I sautéed the mushrooms separate from the sauce because they were delicious but delicately flavored. I thought their flavor was reminiscent of Morels but much lighter. Even better, they didn’t cause indigestion that I sometimes get after eating way too many Morels, and  I surely ate too much Sparissa. Everyone enjoyed the meal that night. Dad and I both pronounced it delicious. But maybe our taste-buds were tainted with pride. I was proud of my amazing fungus find and Dad was proud of his spaghetti squash, his mountain and maybe even his goofy offspring. 

4/14/2021 When I wrote this, I thought only – fun day! I expected to get up on that mountain with dad at least a few more times. I’ve since understood what a huge gift that day was. It reminds me to find the gift in every day. Even when a day is difficult it is still precious.

About cauliflower mushroom (Sparissus crispa):

The ones we found on Mt. Graham were on ancient damaged pine. There are several known species but they’re are too similar to tell the difference and nothing else is similar to Sparissa. I’ve never found them around here, but I believe they have been found in Illinois. An Eastern variety grows on hardwood. I may have  seen a desicated one in the Adirondacks. And yes, other sources have mentioned their morel-like flavor, as well as the trials and tribulations of getting them clean.