<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Midwest on Sunday Evening Review</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/tags/midwest/</link><description>Recent content in Midwest on Sunday Evening Review</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 23 Apr 2026 14:00:00 -0500</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://sundayeveningreview.com/tags/midwest/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Morel Season</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/living/the-long-table-morel-season/</link><pubDate>Thu, 23 Apr 2026 14:00:00 -0500</pubDate><guid>https://sundayeveningreview.com/living/the-long-table-morel-season/</guid><description>&lt;p>The first thing is the smell. Not in the pan yet, not cooked, just the smell of them in the paper bag when the vendor hands them across the table at the Yellow Springs Farmers Market on a Saturday morning in late April. Morels smell like the ground they came from. Damp leaves, old bark, something almost mineral. If you put your nose into the bag, and I always do, you get a whiff of the actual woods, the actual Ohio woods in spring, before the trees have leafed out all the way and the light still reaches the forest floor.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>