The other day, the Husband and I took a stroll on Monterey Street. We stopped for a moment to admire an old house and as we turned, voila, we spied tree mushrooms.
It surprised to me see tree mushrooms in town. As a kid, I used to go mushroom hunting with my dad on Cienega Road. We found buckets full of delicious mushrooms that we picked from dead trees along a creek. My parents knew what are edible mushrooms, but they always threw a quarter in the pot as the mushrooms simmered. They told me that if the quarter turned black, we would not eat the mushrooms. The quarters never turned black. To this day, I don't know if they were kidding me.
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