If you’ve never gone hunting for wild morel mushrooms, then you probably shouldn’t do so now. I’m not saying this to be selfish and to keep you from finding and eating mushrooms that might otherwise find their way into my hands. No. I wouldn’t do that. My main concern is for the health and safety of the readers of this column (this is, after all, the health page).Morels are popping up in prodigious quantities on lawns and in woodlands around the Northwest Corner right now. Apparently this is a banner year for the little fungi, which are shaped like gnome caps and have a distinctive woven flesh (like the folds of a brain, or the straps of a badly twisted macramé plant hanger).The staff here at The Lakeville Journal Co. have made it clear to landscapers and hikers over the years that anytime anyone has an infestation of these pesky mushrooms, we are happy to come over and help remove them from the soil. We do this as a community service, a way to help keep lawns clear and clean, not because we have any interest in eating the morels that grow there. Mark Niedhammer, the company’s classified advertising manager, has been hunting morels for many years and is an excellent guide to identifying which morels are salubrious and which might be more toxic if ingested. Readers of this column who think they might have found a spray of morels are invited to call or email him for help; but be forewarned that you will have to divulge the whereabouts of your find (and share in the bounty).As recently as a week ago, the morels were young and tender and fresh. Already this week they will be starting to pass their peak point of perfection. A morel-centric website, called www.thegreatmorel.com, offers this advice on knowing when it’s getting too late to pick: “Usually you can tell when they start to look unhealthy or they are announcing ‘pick me’ by examining the tip of the morel and the base of the stump. They will begin to discolor at the base and turn brownish. The tips will begin to do the same and they may be missing. Typically that is when you know if you are a day or two late when finding them in the wild.”If you’d like to try morels but don’t know how to (or don’t want to) find them in the wild, they can be purchased at specialty food purveyors such as Adams Fairacre Farms in Poughkeepsie. Keep in mind, though, that you are potentially endangering any wild foraged foods when you buy them in large quantities at retail. If this column hasn’t yet discouraged you from finding and eating morels, you might want to know how to prepare them. The first thing to know is, they shouldn’t be washed. You want to trim off any dirty stem bits (remember that when you’re collecting morels you shouldn’t pull them out of the ground, you should cut them off at dirt level, so they might regrow in the future). Shake them out, to get rid of any little bits of bug and grit. I like them sliced kind of thin. Other people quarter them or cut them in thirds. Some people, who live large, eat them whole.The second thing to know is that butter and morels go together like fish and water. If you prefer not to eat butter, well, that’s just one more reason for you to give me your morels instead of eating them yourself.Here are some ways we’ve eaten morels this week, here at The Lakeville Journal Co. Assume that the first step in every one of these recipes is “Sauté in plenty of butter.” Season to taste, of course.• Cook pasta. Add cream to the buttery morels and toss with the pasta. Optional: Add greens such as spinach, or garnish with chive blossoms, which are abundant right now.• Serve with fresh fiddlehead ferns and roasted asparagus. Soak the fiddleheads first, then boil them briefly, then sauté them with the morels.• Slather thin, toasted bread (eight-grain is good, so is a traditional baguette) with truffle mousse pâté. Top with sliced morels.• Marinate chicken cutlets in a little Dijon mustard, lemon juice, olive or canola oil, salt and pepper, tarragon. Sauté and cook, then top with morels that have been sautéed in a separate pan.• Fry an egg “sunny side up.” Top with morels that have been sautéed with butter, the delicate green tips of either scallions or chives and a few grinds of black pepper.
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Dick Hermans in the Oblong Bookstore on Millerton\u2019s Main Street in 1985.
Provided
For Hermans, the award has prompted some reflection about why he has spent so much of his life involved in community projects.
“I was thinking about it this morning: Why do I do what I do?” he said. “And I think no matter what I’ve done, whether it’s been school board or rail trail, I’m trying to be useful to the communities I’m associated with.”
Hermans is perhaps best known as the longtime co-founder and steward of Oblong Books in Millerton, a business that began almost by accident. He and his first wife, Holly Nelson, were living in Millerton and looking for something to do during the winter. They had been painting houses, including the Grange Hall in Millerton, a job Hermans got through his aunt, who belonged to the Grange.
At the time, Hermans was also working in insurance for his father, doing collections.
“It was fine except I was doing collections, and it really kind of left me cold,” he said.
He and Nelson began thinking about what they might do together. Nelson was an avid reader, while Hermans had studied journalism and had worked in a record store. They noticed a chain of book and record stores operating elsewhere in the Hudson Valley and decided to follow that model.
And so Oblong was born.
Dick Hermans in the Oblong Bookstore on Millerton’s Main Street in 1985.Provided
“We really learned it by the seat of our pants,” Hermans said.
The business would eventually become a beloved and integral part of Millerton’s commercial life. But although Hermans may have learned the book business as he went, his affinity for retail — and for the connections that happen across a counter — had begun much earlier.
As a child, his second-grade teacher operated a little cardboard pencil shop in the classroom, and Hermans still remembers the satisfaction of selling a pencil for a nickel.
“I really liked selling somebody a pencil for a nickel,” he recalled. “I can remember that experience, and it was so pleasant.”
Later, while living in Arizona, he helped establish a food co-op and worked at the counter.
“I kind of knew that I liked doing that kind of thing,” he said. “It’s a nice way to be pleasant with people, but without making too much commitment to them.”
His relationship with Millerton also predates Oblong. His grandparents lived in the village, and he first came to Millerton as a baby. Over the years, he has watched the town change through several generations.
He remembers a Millerton with a much broader array of businesses, when stores such as Delson’s, the Main Street department store that stood for nearly 40 years in what is now Millerton’s Antiques Center, seemed to carry almost everything a resident might need.
“You could find everything from a set of dishes to a shotgun,” he recalled.
The rise of shopping malls changed that kind of downtown retail, he said, but Millerton has remained a lively commercial village.
“For us, it’s been a great place to have business,” Hermans said. “It’s a busy village.”
For Hermans, running a store was never simply about selling books and records. It was a way of being part of a place.
Music has remained another constant. Hermans continues to sell music at Oblong and hosts the radio program “New Harmony” on WKZE. The business of selling music has changed dramatically over the years, particularly with the rise of streaming, but Hermans has adapted.
He was initially reluctant to bring vinyl records back into the store because of their expense. But about four or five years ago, he began stocking LPs again, and they have become the main form of music the store sells.
He finds that many of the customers buying them are reconnecting with music they loved years ago.
“I do best with classic albums that people may have had when they were young,” he said. “And now that they’re retired, they want to hear it again.”
Hermans still reviews between 700 and 1,200 new music releases each week through the store’s distributor, Alliance Entertainment, carefully deciding what belongs on Oblong’s shelves.
That same commitment to place has led Hermans into a wide range of community projects. His work with the Harlem Valley Rail Trail is among the efforts he mentions when reflecting on his years of civic involvement. He has also served on the school board and has been involved with the Millerton Business Alliance and the Irondale Schoolhouse. He is now involved with The New Pine Plains Herald, which he sees as complementary to the work of The Millerton News and The Lakeville Journal.
“I really think that the important thing about this award is that people understand what a newspaper does to connect them to their community,” he said. “And if that means anything to their lives, they gotta support it.”
Hermans knew Mary Lou and Robert Estabrook and remembers them as people who were deeply conscious of their responsibilities to the community.
“They were really nice folks,” he said. “They were very conscious of what their role in the community was.”
There is, in fact, still plenty on his plate. Hermans admits he needs to scale back because he has taken on more than his current abilities can comfortably accommodate.
“To be given this award is very special,” he added. “But I don’t feel like I’m done.”
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Adamah Farm crew members planning out the day’s tasks on a late September day.
Janna Siller
Over my 15 years of growing vegetables in Falls Village, I’ve exerted my will over all kinds of conditions, from drought to humidity to crows with a taste for cantaloupe. That’s what farming is all about. You zip around the field, hopping on and off tractors, moving hoses and chasing weeds, all in an effort to arrange conditions in favor of your crops. It is the crops’ job to gulp up sunlight and move water through their stems, to transform solar energy into your next pesto or ratatouille or butternut squash soup. It is the job of the farmer to irrigate just enough but not too much, to slice dandelion leaves without damaging delicate cabbage roots, to pander and pamper and stay in tune with what plants need to thrive.
The easy part of farming is trusting plants’ resilience. I have seen bright green shoots barrel ahead out of a plant torn to shreds by hail. I’ve watched wilty, heat-stressed seedlings turn rigid overnight and greet the next morning with vigor. The hard part is letting go of what you can’t control. As our crops lapped up Friday’s gentle sunshine and I considered the weekend forecast, I imagined roots holding tight to wet earth and branches supporting each other in sideways, pelting rain. I made sure all of our storage crops were already harvested and tucked away. I battened down the sides of our greenhouses and wished the remaining field crops good luck.
The nor’easter didn’t materialize too dramatically in our corner of New England. A few broken branches and debris blown about, nothing like the July Fourth storm that sent half a tree crashing onto the deer fence and left crates of fresh veggies in coolers without power.
Fall storage crop harvests amid soil building cover crops at Adamah Farm in Falls Village. Janna Siller
Farming is an exercise in acceptance. To do it well and return year after year, you have to balance hubris and humility. The prize can often be a certain equanimity, a training in the art of moving into the next day even when the last one scrambled all your plans.
Epic change is not always about the unexpected. It also comes like clockwork on the seasonal calendar. As I type, the last of summer’s watermelons wait naively on the vine for a few hot days to finish ripening. Broccoli are holding their leaves wide as they did in June and July, only to find that the hours of sunlight decrease with each earlier sunset. Plants can’t pick up and go south or call the manager to order a bonus round of sunshine. Their growth slows and they get a resigned look to the hue of their leaves, so different from the frenzied growth of summer.
The release of fall is not tragic or gloomy. It is not an ending because so many fall tasks are about setting up for the new beginnings in spring.
We turn the vines that yielded thousands of pounds of fruit into the soil, where healthy microbes feast on their rotting stems. Then we plant cover crops — a mix of cereal grains like rye and oats and legumes like peas, vetch and clover. Cover crops hold the soil and its nutrients in place over winter, feeding the soil food web and adding organic matter that next season’s crops will need to grow.
We sort sprinklers and repair hoses. We inventory tarps. We take notes about which plants did well where and how we might try a new approach for this or that. We stack crates of cured garlic and onions and winter squash in a cool, dark room.
We save seeds from tomatoes and beans and lettuce, carefully labeling each variety for next season’s long, sunny days.
Janna Siller is the farm director at Adamah, a community farm in Falls Village offering CSA shares, educational programs and a food access program.
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