A Forager's Green Smorgasbord from the Garden Wild by Brian Burger

Have your "spring tonic yet"?  Myth and tale abound from culinary texts and history (or "ethnobotany") of the indigenous native Americans to European settlers - mostly in my area from the still active heritage of Pennsylvania Germans.

Last night I feasted on a foursome of prevalent and plentiful wild greens.  My wife feasted along with me with a bit more conservative relish. The menu? Hot, steamed Stinging Nettles with a drop of apple cider vinegar and dash of salt. Second was Wintercress, also steamed, with a touch of butter, salt and pepper. The entrée was the more adultered Dandelion greens dressed with hot bacon dressing and ramps (actually a gravy) and with sides of small boiled potatoes from the larder and fresh hen’s eggs hard-boiled and quartered. I felt as content as an arising bear having its fill of vernal vitamins!!

 Perhaps one needs the "woodsy gene" or a forager's heart, but I found it to be heavenly!

 Leeks! Ramps!  Springtime!! There are few places in Centre County to find these.  Consider traveling north in early spring to some place north of Renovo.  Other areas of the Appalachian Plateau and ridges including the South are inhabited by ramps, also. Find a damp, open-woods slope often near a stream to see patches of bright green 4-8 inch flag-like leaves.  Be mindful of property and environmentally  intrusive digging. Use a trowel or small digging bar but only pry enough to loosen the roots. Do NOT decimate a patch or the forest floor!! In the kitchen or utility water source, wash away soil remnants, clip off the roots just at the bulb.  I leave the leaves intact and generally sauté whole or chopped. The stalks can be frozen for later use in anything from scrambled eggs to spaghetti sauce. I used mine with the bacon dressing. A complete spring dynamic.

 Stinging nettles will make the naïve scream with hot pain or, at least, undeniable tingling, but the young plants this time of year harvested with caution and boiled or steamed are delicious and nutritious.  Many in the know would suggest gloves for harvesting.  Some will advise holding off until later in spring, and some of them suggesting juicing for nutrients. The tougher palm-side skin of thumb and fore-finger can deftly pluck the top inch or two of these plants if careful not to brush the top of hand or fingers against the stinging leaves and stems. Rinse in a colander taking continued care not to touch.  Dump them into a steamer or saucepan with slight water and cook 5 - 10 minutes. Ease, tasty and full of good stuff. And, watch you nettles patch for further harvest.  The pinched buds will develop even more buds as a result of pruning.

Wintercress is so plentiful.  Once it becomes known to you, it will be an oh-my-gosh moment.  Even more so after you eat some of this common Brassica - Mustard family member.  The whorled young greens can best be cut in wholesale fashion with a paring knife just below or at the ground so enough of the root remains to hold the leaves intact.  Wash this well, then cut the leaves free.  Atop the leaf bunch is a flower bud similar to a pea-sized broccoli head.  I find the flavor much like broccoli if not just a bit more bitter.  Steaming tames the bitterness, but my palate finds bitterness a bit refreshing.  Maybe that's why I so enjoy a Double Rainbow IPA at the Elk Creek? Surely a brew will wash this all down with savory delight. Aficionados of wintercress are split on the harvest of this wild plant.  Some prefer December after adequate winter chill has calmed the bitterness a bit, but then you'll be harvesting from a mature, adult plant, also. I find springtime with this one hard to beat.

Dandelion.  An import of the chicory family with many uses.  Granted, it is not pleasant in the tended vegetable garden, but why fight so hard killing these from every other place? They are useful in many ways - greens, flowers for salad or wine and then the roots dried and roasted for a "coffee". If you or someone else does actively fight these with the many commercial poisons, do NOT harvest there! In fact, be wary of all places you harvest wild edibles!! Cut dandelions free as with wintercress and best early before flowering.  Scrub them clean and delicately pluck away dead or unfitting leaves mostly at the base.  Cut away the remaining root portion just enough to keep the leaves intact together. Remember, the young buds are delicious.  If they fall free in handling, add them to the greenery. Drop the greens into bubbling hot bacon dressing (recipe below) and toss for just a minute to wilt.  Place them in a shallow bowl with quartered hard-boiled eggs and hot cooked potatoes. Ummmm!!

Hot Bacon Dressing (Will make enough to dress 2 quarts of greens)

Fry 6-12 slices good, local, nitrate / nitrite - free bacon. Remove and chop and save the cooked bacon. Sauté ¼ cup or more of chopped wild onions or ramps. Add about ½ cup flour to the hot grease and stir into roux. On medium-low heat, cook a bit to brown the flour.  Add water (about 2 cups) slowly while constantly stirring and making to a thick gravy.  Stir in sugar and cider vinegar to a hearty sweet-sour taste as desired.  Add salt and black pepper, then stir in the chopped bacon bits. Use amount desired and/or store what is for later. For greens, drop them into the dressing and toss one minute, or so. Covering during this last step will wilt and heat greens a bit more if that is your liking. Serve dressed greens with hot potatoes and hard-boiled eggs for a complete meal in itself.

NOTE: Wild edibles must be approached with field knowledge and the experience of your own tolerance.  Proceed with caution always!!

For more personal tutoring in ways of woods and farmstead contact:

Brian B. Burger

New Harmony Farmstead

Coburn, PA

newharmonyfarmstead_at_hotmail_dot_com

Eating well in Penns Valley

Two days ago I harvested SPEEDWELL Veronica arvensis. It is growing low to the ground, as a creeping matt. the flowers are heavenly sky blue, 4 petals with tiny stripes. 

Also called Corn Speedwell. I harvested the vine-like upper flowering stems, about 2 handfuls, put them in a strainer, and dipped them gently in a bowl of water to rinse off any dirt.

Then put the rinsed plant in a stainless steel pan, added 1 quart of cold water, and brought it up to a simmer. Once it was gently simmering, I turned off the heat, covered the pan, and let it steep until I was ready to drink some as tea. I strained off the plants, put them back outside and refrigerated the remaining tea. This morning I warmed up a cup as my breakfast tea!! 

The bees, wasps and pollinators were already visiting the plant, as was I. 

If people are interested in history and medicinal uses, here is a nice simple description. http://winksite.mobi/xhtml/ms_fo_pg_v.cfm?fid=32871&id=24216&susid=38643&s=1&s2=1

I've been using this plant for years, and therefore consider it safe for general use, as most of the properties are nutritive, and therefore beneficial, with no contraindications.

I love the connection to St. Veronica, and have always use this plant in addition to others, when needing a "miracle". 

Note the connection to Easter, and I believe the blue color is very close to the way artists often depict Mary's and female saints robes of heavenly blue! 

BLESSINGS ON THE WEEDS!!!!! Jennifer Anne Tucker

First Day of Spring – New Hope? a guest post by Brian Burger

UPDATE 3-20-12

This is a brief and sudden sequel to the Vernal Eve message on “synchrony.”  Yesterday I somewhat negatively opined on what was in store for such an early and bizarre springtime “heatwave.”  With some light rain overnight, the dawn is foggy but hugely verdant. Everything is quickly turning green! Among my observations – the sudden appearance of massive quantities of Henbit, Lamium amplexicaule, in fields and untended areas. It is both up and wildly in flower! Though I lament this invasive where I wish it were not, it is an early spring savior to honey bees.  Synchrony?  Perhaps.     

3-20-12  BBB

Synchrony, a guest post by Brian Burger

Synchrony is a noun.  It means what you can probably imagine even if less than commonly used: simultaneous occurrence or motion. I like nouns more commonly used in verb form.  They promote a tuned ear, a cocked head…thought, reflection and inquiry. Synchrony is a pretty word, I think.

The question is…is it?...will it be? in this very odd and premature springtime 2012. Or will 2012 be a possibly ugly food year?

On this eve of vernal equinox - when night and day are of equal duration - I walked in my orchard this morning to see apricot blossoms just about open.  Apples and cherries and pears are seemingly close behind both early and not really in the pattern of synchrony they usually have with one another.

The biggest question is whether the temperatures, especially killing frosts, will abate for the remainder of the season?  It is hard to imagine that.  With a typical last frost date of about 10 May, nearly 2 months away, the odds are that we will have a disastrous fruit season.

Add to that the issue of bees and an unusually mild winter where bees have been existing in their hives (or natural refuges) at a heightened state of metabolism, burning up their winter honey stores faster than they would, are now possibly out of honey with no natural sources of food yet waiting for them. They could have a massive die-off over-taxed with yet another challenge atop the continuing mystery of CCD (colony collapse disorder).  Without pollination, we don't eat.  Without insect pollination, we at least eat less. Without bee pollination, we will certainly eat less variety - especially fruits.

Is nature doing a double-play of synchrony?  Will she open blossoms early to accommodate the early rising of honeybees? (The domestic honey bee, by the way, is not native to America.) Is this an odd synchrony in play with an odd climatic anomaly?

Stay tuned…but at least be aware.  Things are amiss.  These glorious days may not be so glorious nor a harbinger of things positive.   3/19/12  BBB

Mink Stink, a guest post by Brian Burger

Actually, they do. Really. The weasel family, Mustelidae, have scent glands that some of us can’t miss. To wit, the infamous “Pepe Le Pew,” our indigenous Skunk. They don’t all exude that strong a perfume, but they all do have active and able scenting devices.

The family is a large one of carnivores. They are all quite adept “killing machines.” They are voracious and even wasteful regardless their size. Weasels, mink, ferrets, martens, fishers, otters, and wolverines….all weasels or Mustelids. All are favored—especially in eastern Eurasia—for their coat making, exquisite furred skins. (We don’t need to go there now, but nature does provide some sustainable harvest.)

So, a week ago I found one of my free-ranging, escapee, feral New Zealand rabbits dead with nary any damage but missing the forward part of its lower jaw. No blood, but dead nonetheless. A few days ago, one of my chicken sheds was opened in the morning to witness my two back-up Rhode Island Red roosters lying dead. Little damage, but cold and stiff. The building is tight except for a 2 inch gap atop the walls and under the roof for ventilation.

I started suspecting with increased certainly a weasel—the diminutive of the family small enough to squeeze through two inches to inflict damage well beyond believability based on size.

Two nights ago, I was tending my rabbit shed with three does due to kindle (give birth). Before going in, my headlamp struck the eyes of a known feral cat. Coming out, at another location only 12 feet away, my lamp struck eyes again. Momentarily I was thinking the same cat, microseconds later my brain suggested “that damn weasel,” microseconds again my woods knowledge identified the creature as a mink. It was most likely a young male, but possibly a female. Not too large, but bigger than a weasel by far.

Despite being aquatic mammals, mink will travel, especially for food, and even more for the seasonal and conjugal visitation with one of the opposite gender. Now is that time of year. This little, American “Tasmanian Devil” (the real T.D. is a pacific carnivorous marsupial) was obviously back for more where it learned the value of a good meal at a discount price.

The live trap was set later that evening. The location was changed last night and found this morning sprung without the quarry inside. Hopefully I will have captured and moved it far away to another, more aquatic haunt in just yet another day.

Another day on the farmstead.

Brian B. Burger

Happy Mistakes, a guest post by Brian Burger

It is not a perfect world. We are all the better when reminded of that, though we sometimes resent the reminder. Few people find those reminders, and the healthy humility that comes from that, more often than farmers and gardeners.

To the crop farmer, there are countless variables to affect seed, germination, cultivation, production and harvest. To the animal famer, the reminders can be ever more poignant and even hurtful. Animals get in trouble. They are uncannily good at it, too! Ultimately there are animal losses which can be expensive in dollars, breeding and herd strategies and the most priceless of things—emotion. The gardener and backyard homesteader have these same issues. Often some of each—plant and animal. Often it is just as painful because the small scale further challenges merely “rolling with the punches.” You may be REALLY counting on something to “pan out.”

Let’s not forget there can be and are joys as well. Sometimes they are sudden or unexpected joys. Sometimes they are serendipitous and fortuitous rather than the result of any intentional effort or hard work. Sometimes they are even the results of mistakes. Kind of like, “who ever thought of sticking their chocolate into peanut butter?” But, wow…the results!!

I visited with my neighbor and friend recently, Penns Valley Community Learning Garden co-founder/partner, Warren Leitzel. I told him of a recent surprise and now hopeful result related to gardening. I had some old potted starting plants left from last season sitting in an unlikely place catching enough winter to be dormant but having enough protection not to have frozen out completely. Among theses a few herbs and some parsley. After seeing and dismissing these for weeks, my frugality kicked in. I moved them inside to the basement to thaw. Procrastination and doubt left them there a week. I moved them into a heated room to repot what appeared to be some still useful perennial herbs.

But there was that parsley. Oh well. I transplanted them into larger pots. In no time at all, in the dead of January, I had wildly happy and flourishing greenery in that room. I was thinking of a recipe or two to use the parsley cuttings since I do not currently have my own greenhouse or hoophouse to otherwise grow parsley through winter. Well, it wasn’t long before I was reminded of the biennial nature of parsley. I noted after the initial flush of vegetation, the leaf shape was changing on additional growth as well as a notable spike rising from the plant. This plant was going to flower and seed! It was in its second of a two-year maturity schedule.

Initially I was disappointed. I thought I’d get a second bout of vegetation. Instead, it would be just a little of that and then the plant would go to seed. Hmmmm. The wheels were turning. If this plant will flower and produce mature seed before the growing season, I will, in effect, have compressed a two-year plant cycle into one by mistakenly forcing the parsley after just a short respite in dormancy! A biennial sort of would become an annual, at least by the calendar’s standards. As an enthusiast seed-saver, this was entirely cool!

I explained all this to Warren in far less time than it took to type it here, and he smiled and said with his rather-always-confident air, “Oh yeah. I call those things ‘happy mistakes.’ ” So it will be. “Happy Mistakes.”

I hope to have mature and dry seed to direct sow this year’s parsley by Memorial Day. The plants are starting to flower with multiple, additional inflorescent umbels on the way. You’ll probably have to remind me to give you an update in 3 months.

Until then, may your forthcoming gardening and farming year be filled with intentional success….and maybe a few “happy mistakes.”

Brian B. Burger