Better Late Than Never

Finally, spring is here! Autumn-olive buds are sprouting.

The other day I was checking out my posts from April last year to see what plants I was gathering, and I was amazed at the difference between then and now. Sumac, wild spinach, mallow, lady's thumb, and pokeweed were all coming up. I was making wild salads and strawberry-knotweed pie, and the wintercress was already in flower. This year, I just collected my first Japanese knotweed shoots last weekend, and those were hard to come by. The only other wild foods I'd collected before last week were roots and tubers, which are available through the winter as long as the ground is workable. Spring is here, but it hasn't been in any rush.

Thistle root core (bottom) and fibrous outer root.

One root I tried for the first time this spring is thistle. Last year I collected plenty of thistle stalks, which taste kind of like celery and were good in soup. I have read that the roots taste similar to burdock (of which I've also only eaten the stalks) but are better. My older son and I dug up some thistle roots from a weedy spot by a soccer field down the road from our house, and once back home I peeled the outer root away from the core. This was much easier than I'd been led to believe it would be; the outer portion basically just slipped off once I got things started. The outer portion is apparently fibrous, whereas the inner core is not. I found the taste mild and promising, but we hadn't collected enough roots to actually cook anything.

Our collection of primrose roots. We
also found a lot of worms when we
dug up the roots (see picture in the
gallery below), and the boys insisted
on collecting those, too.

Another root I've been collecting is evening primrose. My older two boys and I came across a plethora of primrose rosettes growing by a netless soccer goal at our middle school. You might recall from my previous accounts of this vegetable that it causes the back of my throat to feel slightly itchy. I know it's not just me: I've read other reports of the same effect. My first attempt at eating evening primrose (I roasted it) was an outright failure, but I subsequently made some fairly tasty veggie fritters (see my October 12, 2012 post). The fritters still gave me that mildly itchy feeling, though. Lately I've been reading a lot about how to get rid of bitterness from certain wild greens (it mostly amounts to boiling them, sometimes in multiple changes of water, which is a novel cooking technique for me; I normally steam, broil, or sauté my vegetables), and I wondered whether boiling the primrose roots would carry off some of the itchiness. So I peeled, diced, and boiled my roots in a little salted water before adding them to a risotto recipe in place of the called-for parsnips. And lo and behold, the result was practically itch free and delicious!

At the same time last year, this
wintercress plant would have had
yellow flowers already.

Next I tried boiling some wintercress buds. I didn't have much to work with, so this was more of a taste experiment than a culinary endeavor. The last (and only) time I'd tried wintercress buds had been a truly memorable experience, and not in a positive way. As I recall, I made some loud and adamant protestations and spat out the offending buds. I truly did not think I would ever try them again, but it has since come to my attention that my chosen method of cooking -- broiling -- probably concentrated rather than dampened the bitter components. Boiling, once again, seems to have had a positive effect on the flavor. I can't claim that the buds weren't still bitter, but I swallowed -- and believe me, that's a big improvement. Furthermore, I think this vegetable -- high in nutrients -- might make a good addition to a quiche, which I plan to actually try out on some unsuspecting guests after a foraging walk I'm leading next weekend (I hope none of them are reading this post ... no, just kidding. I promise to taste the quiche first and make sure it's as tasty as I think it will be).

Curly dock is one of
the "weeds" I'll be relocating.

I do think we're finally moving beyond root season, though. Plants are certainly sprouting in my yard, which again is under reconstruction. Recently I confessed to having undertaken a crazy whole-lawn gardening experiment last year. Although I learned a lot and grew a lot, the scale of the project was definitely a bit larger than it should have been. So this year I'm scaling back and creating gardening spaces around the edges of my lawn. I've created rock and log borders and will plant grass everywhere not enclosed by the rock walls. This means I'm having to move any of last year's plantings and any fortuitous edible "weeds" that don't currently fall within the designated gardening areas. Yes, this is a lot of work, but I'm having fun with it and still learning a lot.

Two of the three surviving mayapple plants.

Part of the process is thus waiting to see what comes up before I plant my grass seed. I was beyond excited to see three tiny mayapple plants sprouting their little umbrella-like leaves last week! Mayapples do not grow natively in Massachusetts, although they like it here and do well if transplanted (I have seen a sizable stand of them on an organic farm). So when I came across a patch of mayapples on a camping trip in New Jersey last year, I brought a few of the plants (the ones growing in the path, which would have been trampled anyway, I reasoned) home. They did not seem to have adjusted to their new home satisfactorily last year, so I wasn't sure they'd come up again this spring. One of them hasn't, but the others, well, here they are! Unfortunately, they fell within the future grass area, so I had to move them. I put them in pots so I won't have to transplant them again when we move (in the fall, I hope). Unfortunately, I failed to water them sufficiently on the days following the initial potting, and they were looking a bit sad yesterday afternoon. In a panic, I brought them lots and lots of water and moved them to a shadier location. Today is fortunately a bit drizzly anyway, so I'm hoping for a full recovery. I've never eaten a mayapple (they weren't ripe when I found them in New Jersey), but from what I understand, it will be worth another trip to New Jersey if these plants don't survive my efforts to confine them to containers.

The blue violets are making an appearance.

So spring is here; my garden is starting to wake up, the heart-shaped leaves of the common blue violets are unfurling, the garlic mustard is out (we've already had tortellini with zucchini, tomatoes, and garlic-mustard pesto for dinner), and the Japanese knotweed is poking up. It was a long wait, but spring is all the sweeter for it. Ahhh.

Photo Gallery

My middle son with the worms we collected along with our evening primrose roots.

My eldest son digging up a thistle.

Two thistle rosettes. You only want to collect roots from rosettes, not plants with stalks. Once the plant has sent up a stalk, the root has used up its energy and will be tough.

Thistle overturned to show the root.

We found a great place to collect pokeweed when it comes up. This embankment has a row of dried-up pokeweed stalks sprawling like giant spiders along its edge. My eldest son is collecting trash, which is one of his favorite pastimes. He's become even more enthusiastic since he recently learned that he can get money for some types of cans and bottles at those recycling machines at grocery stores.

Near the pokeweed bank were these dried yellow fruits. I have no idea what they are, but they looked interesting. I'll have to come back in the summer and see what plants are growing here. I'm guessing they're not edible given that the animals haven't eaten them.

Close-up of the yellow mystery fruit.

In the same area were countless dried milkweed pods; so this promises to be a good collecting ground!