Wintergreen, Take II

On a hike this weekend, my two older boys and I happened upon some more wintergreen, much of it buried beneath the fall's deposit of leaves. At first, it seemed that those little red berries, which guide books tell me can cling on all winter, would elude me yet again. Then I spotted it – one lone bit of red peaking out from under a leaf. "Hey guys, look! A berry! I found one with a berry!" I cried enthusiastically. If you had been there, you probably would have thought my excitement was slightly out of proportion to the circumstances, but my kids rushed right over; they, too, were eager to see this rarity. I picked the berry and admired it for a moment, until my 4-year-old (the one who gobbled our sole cattail lateral this past summer; see my previous post) remarked excitedly, "I want to try it!"

Now, because I love my son very much and because I love the fact that he is such an adventurous eater, I reluctantly handed over this single treat, which he pronounced to be tasty. I searched around for other berries, but although there were plenty of shiny green wintergreen leaves poking out all over the ground, I didn't see any more flashes of red. I brushed dried oak leaves aside with my boot. I overturned a few wintergreen leaves in case any berries were hiding. I walked farther and farther away from the trail and into the woods, under the pine trees (wintergreen likes to grow under the deep shade of pine trees). Just as I was beginning to despair that I had found the only wintergreen berry in the whole forest, I found a plant with two berries. Phew! One was shriveled and not suitable for consumption, though. So, I did what any loving mother would do and asked my 6-year-old whether he would like to try one. He shook his head: "No, thanks." Phew again! (He doesn't care for mint, so I admit that I was expecting and hoping for this response.)

I carefully bit into the berry. The texture surprised me at first: It was mealy, not smooth or juicy, as I had somehow imagined it would be. I suppose its texture was to be expected given that it had alternately frozen and thawed all winter (we've had an unusually mild winter). After I got over my initial shock and resumed the taste test, I found the flavor to be pleasant – like eating a wintergreen-flavored LifeSaver without the hard-candy aspect.

The seeds were numerous and tiny, perhaps the size of poppy seeds. They were pale yellow and enclosed in a white mushy pulp (below is a picture of some crushed berries on a tea saucer).

Throughout the rest of the hike, I collected leaves here and there until I had a little plastic sandwich baggie full of them.¹ At home, I boiled a small pot of water, added the leaves, covered the pot, and let the leaves steep for 2 days – my previous attempt to make wintergreen tea (see my first post) included an inadequate steeping time of only 20 minutes. Now, two days later, I sit beside an empty mug. The wintergreen tea was delightfully minty, almost as good as peppermint tea (which I love). The only drawback is the extraordinarily long steeping time – this is not a tea for the impatient! I made enough tea for perhaps three mugs, but next time I think I would collect enough leaves to make an entire pitcher at once. 

Wintergreen would also make a lovely evergreen groundcover for a shady area, and if I can find some more berries, I plan to try planting some in our yard (we have a shady spot where the grass just refuses to grow). Wintergreen makes pretty white flowers in the summer, and the attractive berries of course can hang on over the winter (which sounds better than it would really be if only a few berries remain by the end of February, although in a more typically snowy winter, the animals might not get so many of them).

I have also read that wintergreen berries make nice additions to salads and baked goods. One book suggested muffins and pancakes. I am not sure how I feel about wintergreen-flavored muffins or pancakes, but it seems to me that the wintergreen cookies have promise, and I bet wintergreen ice cream would be fantastic. I'm resolved to beat the animals to the berries next year!

¹Incidentally, I also found a few more berries, and my older son decided he would try one afterall. His initial suspicions were correct; he didn't like it. But, at least he tried!