I remember my Grandfather teaching me to look for mushrooms among the Mayapples. Each spring Granddad would make numerous trips on his old Ford Ferguson tractor to the southwestern end of his creek bottom to search among the Mayapples for white morel mushrooms.
Frequently he would be rewarded with a number of the delicious delicacies. Grandma would slice them in half and soak them in a pan of salt water overnight. The following day would find her rolling them in flour and browning them in her cast iron skillet. Granddad may have found them but the entire family loved to eat them. The tasty plate of mushrooms would disappear all too quickly!
I assume the mushrooms still grow there but they are camouflaged so well that I never was good at finding them. Today I was content to photograph the delicate blossom of the Mayapple