A RICHEY STORY

I have just been home for a few days visiting in Richey and Lambert.  Coming back Saturday my new/old RV began to slow and finally stopped near Enid.  Gently coaxing it along, I finally made it to Richey.  The nice thing about small towns is that people stop.  My last bit of aide came from the Mayor, Sonny Whiteman, who was on his way to a ball game in Fairview.  He lent me a jumper cable that allowed me to make a quick and nervous thrust into town.  The cable was so hot when I arrived and rushed to disconnect it!  The new alternator came into town on the Monday noon delivery.  Actually, finding parts for Big Bertha, my RV will always be somewhat of a problem, especially on a weekend.   And of course things usually happen when one has planned to depart on Monday for Illinois. 

So I am waiting and waiting and was be on my way back to Illinois late Monday.  So during that wait, I have been cleaning up the yard a bit.  I threw out bunches of old containers and left over parts from my mother, Katie Williams Olson, and stepfather, Clarence Olson. Lots of memories in every piece!  Some day my kids will be doing the same thing.  Poor kids as I have collected a lot.   

Finally, I headed out to do some chores in the yard.  Over the years a couple on ancient Chinese Elm have died in the back yard.  One took a couple of years, after the top was cut, to kill the sucker branches that sprang each spring from the bottom.  Well, this last tree trunk is resilient too.  Roundup has not done the trick, only causing the leaves to be smaller and fuller.  I grabbed a couple of tools to see if those sucker branches could be trimmed back. As I pulled the branches away from the north side of the trunk, a bunch of white mushrooms could be seen almost filling the side of the stump. 

I was pretty sure that these were the edible Oyster Mushroom or at least a close relative.  The Oyster is bracken or shelf mushroom that grows from many decaying tree species where I live in Illinois.   I have never seen it in Montana but it is a great and tasty mushroom.  I took them into the house and cleaned them and that proved not to be an easy task as they were covered with decaying elm leaves.  I scraped the black leaves off and left them to dry while I went looking for Bob Raisl.  He is always ready for a new taste and is one person who would likely have some knowledge of mushrooms.   

I asked him if he knew these and he did.  We argued over what the correct name was but decided to cook them.  Then he ran home to arrange the use of the kitchen with his mother, Vera Raisl.  About the same time that Bob and I were talking, Olie Brizendine, a soft spoken Oklahoma transplant to Richey suggested that he would throw in some antelope steaks.  Thus, an “Only in Montana” dinner was born. 

Picking up the mushrooms from the house, I also grabbed a bottle of New Zealand born Chardonnay.  Olie brought the steak flank.  He and Bob had gone out hunting after noon on the first day of antelope season and had shot two.  Bob’s was still hanging but Olie had chunked his out.  Lucky for us!  It had been 40 years since I have eaten antelope.  Olie cut them up as we watched and we just threw some butter in the pan and fried the thinly cut steaks.  Wonderful meat! 

In the mean time, Bob rooted through Vera’s spices and added them to the milk and flour mixture that would eventually cover the mushroom pieces.  We fried them in butter.  Vera supervised all of the frantic efforts of three men who rarely cook.  She stated from the first that she was only going to watch and eat.  We fried the steaks and mushrooms and ate them all, washing everything down with the wine.  

Bob and I made another batch of batter to finish cooking the mushrooms.  We had lots of mushrooms left over.  Olie washed dishes and we talked.  Bob went to the basement for some of his wine stash and brought out some of his famous homemade Gooseberry Wine.  

We took the leftover mushrooms up town and shared them with the Sunday night crowd.  Some would take a bite and others refused.  I think that I may have heard the comment that I was trying to kill the town.  I never heard the ambulance taking off so all must be well with the many mushroom lovers of Richey, Montana.  You would have to say that antelope and mushroom hunting season started off pretty well. 

Dr. Bob Williams is a retired professor from Southern Illinois University, a 1958 graduate of Richey High School, a 1962 graduate of Rocky Mountain College.  He lives in Edwardsville, IL