BlueJayLewis Wild Recipes

The first time I felt the spark of joy from foraging was around the age of 18. I was still living in my hometown of Milroy, Indiana with my parents at that time. My dad and his best friend Kerry would go on a yearly camping trip with a bunch of guys and mushroom hunt for a whole week out in Ohio. They had just returned from their trip that year and still had the bug for mushroom hunting. They decided they would go on a hunt around home and see if they had any luck.

We all went down to the creek just outside of town. “River Road” is what we called it. A roughly paved country road outside of town that went downhill into the woods towards the river. Just before you get to the water, the road turns to gravel and mud and leads straight into the Little Flatrock river. No bridge. We played there often as kids, playing fetch with the dogs and catching crawdads. I have fond memories of this place, watching Amish buggies cross right through the water, horse hooves splashing and returning the friendly waves from the locals.

This time, we parked near the water and went out on our mushroom hunt. We were on a mission this day. We pushed through the brambles and stinging nettles to get to the clear areas in the higher ground. I, as usual, was distracted by everything in sight. I meandered through an old junk pile, filled with old car parts and broken bottles. I was mesmerized by the moss patches that found their home inside these old bottles forgotten in time. I heard my dad call out to me, “Joe Joe! You’re gonna want to see this!” I went running through the trees.

There at the base of a tree right next to a clearing stood my dad and Kerry, mumbling to themselves and looking proud. There it was, only about 3 inches tall. A yellow morel mushroom. My dad would not cut it as he was waiting for me to observe it first so that I could learn what to look for. We talked about the trees surrounding us, the type of soil, how spores are dispersed into the wind and would land in unknown places depending on how it blows. Dad noted the patterns on the mushroom and that by looking at it, observing the colors, textures, and how they fit into the foliage, I would tune my eyes to find the patterns elsewhere in the woods. He was teaching me how to observe all these clues, how to decode nature and understand why these elusive mushrooms grow the way they do.

He cut the morel at the base, leaving a small amount of the stem still in the ground. He told me this is the best way to harvest them. Not to rip the whole thing up, but to leave some left there in nature and not to disturb the soil around it. I don’t think any of us understood the workings of the mycelial networks under our feet at that time, but he made a good point from my eyes. He held up the mushroom to my face and told me to smell it. I took a deep breath through my nose.

Once you smell a fresh morel, you will never forget it. It’s a very strong smell. It’s earthy, musty, woodsy, and funky. Truth be told, I thought I recognized the smell, like I had caught scent of it on the wind all throughout my life in the springtime. All of the sudden, my distractions of mosses and decayed artifacts dissipated. Now I was on the hunt too. The bug had gotten to me for the first time.

 That hunt lasted a few hours that day. We each found less than a dozen morels, but it felt like I was holding a mesh bag full of treasures. My prize find of the day was a surprising one. We had all loaded into the truck to head home. While driving up the hill out of the woods, I thought I saw another morel on the hillside. I yelled for dad to stop the truck and hopped out of the truck bed. Kerry jumped out of the passenger seat and raced me to the hill. It’s funny how getting a bunch of guys together brings out a competitive side in all of us. I ran to the spot that I saw and found exactly what I hoped for. It was a yellow morel as big as my hand.

I didn’t know it yet, but my life had changed forever that day. What started with morel hunting with my dad, turned into a full-blown obsessive hobby. Hours and hours of scouring the internet, researching the zone that I lived in and what all could grow there. I bought books to help me identify plants in the wild, took photos on all my journeys to document my findings of plants I had never seen, and started to experiment with incorporating this wild food into my diet. As of today, I have been foraging for 17 years since that trip down to River Road.

Foraging has offered solutions to a lot of questions I find myself asking. Don’t want to pay the high price for a bottle of honey at the farmer’s market? Make some dandelion honey. Are you craving pesto but don’t feel like driving to the grocery to pay for a tiny jar of it? Go into your backyard and make one from scratch with garlic mustard. Avoiding gluten but craving pizza in the fall? Let’s make puffball mushroom pizza. Are you looking to make a nice cup of tea? My goodness can I help you there!

I have always enjoyed cooking since I was a child. I remember when I was maybe 10 years old in my grandma’s kitchen, my grandpa taught me how to cook scallops in butter. It felt like I was making a 5 star meal with just some butter, garlic, and scallops. I wanted to know more! Foraging was the “more” for me as I got older. My mom has always inspired me in cooking as well. Our parents raised us in a small town with little access to exotic ingredients for dinner. My mom could take a can of corn, 2 hot dogs, and a potato and somehow throw together a delicious meal for the whole family. My mom taught me how to think outside the box when it comes to cooking and to really get creative with what you have. The one thing we all have, is the world around us.

I don’t mind cooking what would be considered “normal” dinners. Every now and then, a spaghetti night is all I need and really hits the spot. It is a totally different experience though when I get to make something that feels like a 5 star meal but includes elements that I was able to gather with my own bare hands out in nature, or in my backyard. That knowledge of understanding more of the world around me and how these plants can nourish the body and ramp up a Tuesday night dinner are what keeps me striving for more. I love foraging and how it brings me closer to the natural world around me. Now that I have spent years learning about foraging and how to prepare these foods, it feels like it is time to pass the torch. That spark of joy from mushroom hunting with my dad, that thirst for cooking knowledge I got from my grandpa, all those years watching my mom create family dinners from what looked like nothing… it’s time for me to share it with the world, and with you. I am so happy you are here, and I truly hope that you enjoy these recipes and stories that I have chosen to share. Wishing you all the best on your journey. 😊

My life these days

My life and foraging journey may have started in a small town in southeastern Indiana, but it has changed a lot over the years. I’ve lived in 2 of the largest Indiana cities, and even spent a few years in Boulder, Colorado to explore a new foraging terrain. I’ve ended up in Fort Wayne, Indiana these days and have built a very peaceful life for myself with my fiancé David. When you look past the cornfields and small towns, in between you will find a surprisingly lush landscape with endless cooking possibilities.

To my surprise, my work life has absolutely nothing to do with cooking and never has. The closest I ever really came to cooking was in my years of bartending at hard rock restaurants and local brew pubs. My experience behind the bar did offer me a lot of knowledge regarding flavors and how to combine then. I’ve poor more beers in my years than I have caught fish, but I was able to play with different cocktails and infusions from time to time and figure out how flavors work together in harmony. These days I work in a large office with a headset on all day, but when I am not stuck inside the office, I take every opportunity I can to get out to my real work.

I am putting together this site in the same way that I put together my foraging and cooking knowledge. One day at a time. I look forward to adding to this site and watching it grow recipe by recipe, and I hope that you can pop in from time to time to be a part of the journey. Happy foraging and happy cooking! Wishing you all well.