Hoping to catch the earliest of the season’s morels, Tom and I headed south last weekend in search of the Minnesota State Mushroom. As with any mushroom trip, the central goal — the one that we try to convince ourselves of over and over, as we continue to tote an empty basket — was to have a great walk in the woods. As you can see from these images, we didn’t find any morels. But we had our eyes open for whatever the forest had to share and enjoyed being outside in Minnesota spring, such as it is.

In the first picture below, you’ll see how I originally found one mushroom (uncovered, at right) completely buried in autumn leaves. This was the last fungus we spotted and the most morel-like. Comparing pictures is never a recommended way to identify a mushroom — especially if you plan to eat it — but this one looks a lot like Gyromitra fastigiata or Gyromitra brunnea. While we couldn’t be certain about much of what we saw, Tom was able to identify a few of our finds using our new copy of Mushrooms Demystified, which we brought along but left in the car due to its heft.

After 2+ hours of walking, Tom and I shared a picnic and considered whether to continue looking or head home. We decided on the latter but couldn’t shake the suspicion that actual morels were actively popping up along all those unexplored trails. Hopefully we’ll have a chance to head out again this weekend after stopping by Opening Day at Midtown Farmers Market. You can be sure we’ll keep you posted if we find anything of note or at the very least, something of visual interest on the forest floor.

It’s almost election day, a time for Americans to exercise the most basic mechanism of self-government by choosing our rulers. Nobody can have failed to notice that the stakes are high this year. Issues that once elicited some kind of consensus have become the source of bitter disagreements.

As a food blogger, I have a civic responsibility to ask tough questions about our candidates: what will our gubernatorial hopefuls do to ensure equitable access to healthy food in Minnesota’s public and non-public schools? What policies will they adopt to promote safe, sustainable agricultural practices that provide food for all Minnesotans? And, most importantly, if our candidates for governor could be any kind of breakfast food, what kind of breakfast food would they be?

Tom Emmer: Emmer Pancakes

The answer for Republican Tom Emmer is easy enough, since he happens to share his name with a variety of wheat, namely emmer. Emmer, if you are not familiar, is an ancient strain of wheat — one of the first ever cultivated. It was the wheat the Egyptians used for bread and beer and was the basis for the campaigning Roman soldier’s porridge. Although emmer (Triticum dicoccum) has been largely supplanted by more common bread wheat (Triticum aestivum) in the modern era, it is still grown throughout the world. Bluebird Grain Farms in Washington makes an excellent emmer pancake mix: just add milk, buttermilk, an egg and butter. The cakes cook up very hearty and rustic.

I suppose the following objection could be raised to emmer: emmer is a dinosaur, a relic of the past. Emmer was literally around during the Stone Age; what possible relevance could emmer have for modern-day Minnesotans?

Mark Dayton: Date Scones

Mark Dayton — or is that Date-un? — is helming the Democratic-Farmer-Labor party effort for governor, and if you couldn’t tell from the horrible pun a few words back I am relating him to dates, the fruit of the date palm. Since breakfast was the agreed upon theme, I made date scones:

• 10 oz white flour
• 1 Tbsp baking powder
• 3 Tbsp sugar
• ½ tsp salt
• 4 tsp butter, diced
• 1 cup dried dates, pitted and roughly chopped
• ¾ cup cream
• 1 egg

Preheat oven to 425ºF. In a food processor, pulse flour, baking powder, sugar and salt to combine. Add butter and dates and pulse until evenly distributed. Meanwhile, beat together cream and egg. Pour flour mixture into a medium bowl and fold in wet ingredients until just combined. Transfer to a floured board; form dough into rough square and cut into quarters. Cut each quarter in half to form triangles. Transfer dough to sheet pan and bake 15–20 minutes, until just browned.

If you’ve never had a date they are large, oblong and raisin-like in their dried form, which is what is commonly available. Some will complain that they are just way too rich for the average Minnesotan.

Tom Horner: Plum Cake

Independence Party candidate Tom Horner proved a bit of a spoiler since his name is not shared with a food-stuff nor does it lend itself to an easy pun. But Horner does bring to mind a familiar nursery rhyme:

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner
Eating his Christmas pie,
He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum
And said “What a good boy am I!”

It turns out this association may be quite apt: this website claims that the true Jack Horner was a steward named Thomas Horner whose “plum” was one of the deeds to twelve plum manor houses that he was supposed to deliver to King Henry VIII at the request of the Abbott of Glastonbury. Horner’s descendants deny the story.

Mysteries about who exactly “Horner” is notwithstanding, the real question is “what the hell is Christmas pie?” Approximately 45 seconds of Internet search revealed that Christmas pie is a lot of different things, though most generally a pie served around Christmastime. With Christmas still months away, making Christmas pie would clearly be impossible. Instead I settled something with plums in it, specifically the Rustic Plum Cake published in the July 2007 Cook’s Illustrated.

I won’t say which of these breakfasts I preferred — that choice is up to voters — but I hope you appreciate my contribution to the heightening of the political discourse. Don’t forget to vote Tuesday!

Last week was the first time I’ve ever noticed fresh ginger at the farmers market, and, indeed the first I’d ever seen ginger so fresh as to still have stalks attached — who knew ginger had stalks? The scent of this ultra-fresh ginger is a joy to take in — grassier and spicier than the slightly desiccated supermarket variety. The delicate pink color at the transition from root (or rather, rhizome) to stem is striking.

This will likely make its way into some Korean food this week (to serve with homemade kim-chi that should be ready tomorrow) but I am also looking forward to simpler preparations: ginger tea (my favorite infusion) and perhaps even ginger ale, if I can find a vessel that can handle the pressure of fermentation.

Call me a pessimist, but in spite of all the amazing advances being made in the realm of cold weather fruits I don’t think anybody’s ever going to grow citrus in Minnesota. So what’s the hard-core locavore fundamentalist zealot to do when he finds himself in the North country and craving a glass or two of sangria, the citrus-laden wine drink of Spain? Since moving to California — or better yet, Spain — isn’t necessarily a workable option, the drink would just have to be adapted to local circumstances. Time for Minnesota sangria.

The inspiration for this concoction was a visit Martha and I made recently to Delano, MN and the Woodland Hill winery. Besides producing surprisingly decent traditional red and white wines, Woodland Hill also makes some worthwhile fruit wines, including, most notably for me, wines made with rhubarb. In visits to wineries in Michigan and Minnesota over the years I have imbibed all kinds of different fruit wines — most of them terrible — but this was the first time I’d ever seen rhubarb wine. Juice is extracted from the stalks by first freezing them to break up the cells, then pressing them for all they’re worth through a wine press.

At the time of our visit they were sold out of last year’s straight rhubarb vintage but had plenty of Tickled Pink, a strawberry-rhubarb blend. Strawberry and rhubarb is a classic flavor combination — and far superior to the ubiquitous kiwi-strawberry, I might add. Lest you think cloying thoughts of strawberry-rhubarb pie, crisp, or what-have-you, I should say this wine was remarkably restrained for a fruit wine; relatively dry (for a fruit wine!) and with clear strawberry and rhubarb flavor.

Clear as these flavors may have been, there’s always room for a little improvement. With copious quantities of strawberries and rhubarb from the Midtown Farmers Market, as well as a bundle of mint — the official herb of summertime — from the Saint Paul Farmers Market, I mixed up a version of this Spanish summertime staple fit for the fields of Minnesota.

Minnesota Sangria

• 1 bottle (750 ml) strawberry-rhubarb wine (we used Tickled Pink from Woodland Hill)
• 1 ½ cups rhubarb, cut into large chunks
• 10 medium strawberries, sliced
• 1 generous handful mint (you can leave it on the stem)

Mix all the ingredients in a large pitcher. Chill and serve.