Green Options

I know I’m not the only foodie who has started developing an interest in foraging for wild edibles.  While I’d really love to go on a mushroom hunt (morel season is nearly upon us!), I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so unless under the guidance of an experienced forager, as novices can easily misidentify mushroom species and risk being poisoned.  Stinging nettles, on the other hand, are relatively easy to pick out–if it looks like a nettle, and feels like a nettle, it’s a nettle!

While July 2008 looked relatively normal in terms of Fourth of July celebrations and hot weather, $4 per gallon gas put a damper on that other summertime staple: the family road trip.

As you might imagine, we had a lot to say about that gas thing… but didn’t take a vacation from covering a wide range of topics.

July 2008

• Chad Crawford, our minister in residence, reviewed The Green Bible.
• Raz Godelnik of Eco-Libris dug into another book: Paper Trails.
• Robin Shreeves reported on a small town that found an innovative solution to big traffic problems: bike sharing.
• Birgitte Rasine of LUCITA sent up a flare for paper shredders clogged with junk mail.

Today we’ve eaten the last of our sorrel until spring.

Where I grew up we had traveller families who passed through our village several times a year, and when they did, their children would join us in school for a few weeks. As they walked home, the traveller kids regularly foraged for food: hazelnuts in early autumn, mushrooms from early spring to late summer and sorrel from late spring. Many of us learned a little about free wild food from their visits, and while I’d never go mushrooming on my own, because I’m not confident enough about my identification of various fungi, I still forage for a wide range of foods: especially sloes, hazelnuts and elderberries.

When autumn, lovely autumn, swings round these here parts once again, so many things start to fall: leaves, acorns, pine cones, temperatures, humidity levels… Although spring and summer get the most credit as seasons for bountiful harvests, autumn has its bounty, too.

Amongst nature’s many freely offered wild edibles, we finicky humans have overlooked a vast number of scrumptious delicacies as we have evolved (or devolved) from wilderness gatherers to grocery-store, fast-food drive-thru, vending-machine gatherers. To our own detriment.

Now, summertime may be regaled as the season for sweet foraging, for then the many berries are bursting with sugary savory sweetness in bite-size bits. But autumn has its sweetness, too, in particular thanks to one oft-ignored tidbit: the persimmon.

Let me clarify: The wild persimmon of which I speak is the American persimmon, Disopyros virginiana. This is not the baseball-size, bright yellow, imported Japanese/Chinese kaki persimmon (Diospyros kaki you can find in grocery stores. No, D. virginiana is native to the American Southeast, though it has found its way out to the Midwest and even up towards the Northeast of these United States as well. Its fruit is much more humble in size, like a little ping pong ball, and much subtler in color, a sort of pale orange blending into rosy pink and purple depending on its ripeness. It is more sensitive as well, hence its absence from grocery store produce sections.

So to experience the wild persimmon, you must head out into the autumn woods and keep your eye up in the canopy or, alternatively, down on the ground for fallen edible offerings. Then you may discover the lovely American persimmon in all its autumn fecundity.

For this Fourth of July, I chose to celebrate a day of independence by stressing out to prepare for a holiday party, nor by figuring out which fireworks show to go to, nor by basking in the presence of President Bush during his visit to Monticello here in Charlottesville.

No, for this Fourth of July, I tapped into the American spirit of freedom by going wild and getting out into the wild: I went out foraging for wild berries.

Luckily for me this was pretty easy, given the fact that I live in the country and have been walking by a seemingly endless stretch of wineberry bushes (and a few blackberry bushes) growing conveniently along the gravel drive. Oh, the tension of temptation has been building for so, so long now as I have watched the bushes form their little fuzzy pods, the pods pop open with the unripe berries peeping out, the berries growing redder and redder like little organic rubies building up their brilliance….

So on this day, at long last, I declared my independence from self-restraint and heroic patience by diving into the (thorny!) berry patches and going wild…and pickin’ pickin’ pickin’ away.

I went to an unfamiliar greenmarket today and had the pleasure of meeting a whole new group of farmers. One vendor was not a farmer at all, but a forager. In fact, he has an entire network of foragers throughout Canada who trade products, enabling a far longer season than would otherwise exist (the man still has fiddleheads at his disposal!) While his mileage greatly outnumbered that of the other farmers at market, I felt that his overall carbon footprint was probably comparable. Afterall, he hasn’t cleared any forest to plant his crop, or used petroleum based fertilizers and pesticides, trucked in soil and feed or used mechanized harvesting tools. Considering this, I didn’t mind helping myself to his bounty.

I was immediately intrigued by a match-stick thin vegetable that looked like a bean with tentacles. The vendor informed me that this was called ’sea asparagus’ and handed over a sample. When I popped it into my mouth, I was immediately taken with its crispiness despite the wilting heat, but was subsequently distracted by a gush of sea water flavor. It was provocative, but overwhelming. How could this ingredient blend in a dish?

While browsing the St. Lawrence Market last weekend, I was elated to spot the paisley-shaped heads of fiddlehead ferns. I won’t get into my love for the regional delicacy too much, as Jennie already posted a great recipe, but I felt that - despite their season of only a few weeks - the wild, gamey greens deserved more than one ode to their deliciousness.

Before I’d left the market, I’d snapped up two bunches of ramps and a bag full of stinging nettles among my regular staples. In fact, the stinging nettles purveyor was kind enough to write out a recipe for tea (pictured below). It was my first ever stinging nettle experience.

More on that and other recipes inspired by my wild green windfall after the jump.

This recipe is an inexpensive, seasonal treat that’s almost too good to be true. From “Wildman” Steve Brill’s Wild Vegetarian Cookbook, we get a sumptuous, healthy, seasonal, local, organic dessert that also encourages the removal of an invasive species. For the green gourmand, could life get any better?

Late summer brings many treats, but my favorite is ripe wild blackberries. Blackberries are an abundant

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