Tag: foraging

Happy Snacking, Don’t Die!

Food is all around us, if we’re patient and perceptive enough to look. For me, it’s something of a personal mantra. My passion for foraging took root in childhood, when I first discovered wild raspberries along the side of the road with my dad. In San Francisco, it truly blossomed, where Golden Gate Park became a veritable salad buffet, helping augment my meager college student’s budget.

Foraging, once a necessity for survival, is now an endangered skill. Whether it’s a lack of awareness or a lack of access, fewer people than ever are feeding themselves with the incredible abundance found right in our backyards. Happy Snacking, Don’t Die! by Alexis Nikole Nelson, better known as @blackforager to the online world, is a cookbook and a guidebook all in one, set on introducing the open-minded to the wonders of wild edibles.

Alexis is the ideal teacher for her inviting, disarmingly gentle, and encouraging approach, while taking the laws of the land seriously. As one could surmise from the title, she doesn’t romanticize foraging or gloss over its inherent dangers. Instead, she repeatedly emphasizes proper identification, ethical harvesting, and knowing when to simply leave a plant alone. That grounding makes the book feel trustworthy, even as its playful tone keeps things light.

Photo by JB Douglas

What elevates Happy Snacking, Don’t Die! beyond a field guide with recipes is Alexis herself. Her curiosity is infectious, her humor lands naturally, and her passion for reconnecting people with the landscape around them shines through on every page. The educational sections are approachable without talking down to the reader, making even unfamiliar botanical concepts feel accessible.

The recipes are similarly welcoming. Rather than treating wild ingredients as exotic novelties, Alexis incorporates them into dishes that feel both achievable and genuinely worth making. Some recipes inevitably depend on access to specific plants that not every reader will encounter, but that’s less a flaw of the book than a reality of regional foraging. More importantly, they illustrate the culinary potential of ingredients that most of us have spent our lives overlooking.

Candied Violets

Edible flowers have always been a favorite find of mine, since store-bought blossoms pale in comparison, if not outright wilt and rot in their packages. Candied Violets (page 53) preserve the harvest in aquafaba and sugar, using the same time-honored techniques that pastry chefs have practiced for centuries. Delicate and fragile as butterfly wings, they take on a crystalline sheen as they dry. Made for adorning equally precious sweet treats, even the broken petals can serve as beautiful natural sprinkles.

Lambsquarters & Artichoke Dip

Lambsquarters are also known as “wild spinach,” so it makes sense that they can seamlessly slip into the role of the conventional supermarket staple. Lambsquarters & Artichoke Dip (page 139), they blend right into a crowd-pleasing appetizer that no one would ever suspect started with a common backyard weed. Carried by the creamy, cheesy base, I can see any type of green vegetable working here, depending on what you can find in season.

Oyster Mushroom Chowda

Though I personally prefer a thick chowder, full of vegetables and herbs, the more brothy Oyster Mushroom Chowda (page 242) is no less comforting, especially on a chilly day. My mushrooms weren’t exactly foraged, but at least they were homegrown, thanks to a neighbor whose enthusiasm for cultivating oyster mushrooms has benefited my kitchen as well. Kombu and dulse lend a distinctly oceanic flavor, evocative of the mollusks that inspired the stew. It’s a restrained combination of ingredients that simply works, allowing the mushrooms’ natural umami to shine while scratching the same itch as a classic seafood chowder.

Juniper-Cured Carrot Lox

I’ve made a lot of lox in my lifetime; carrot, beet, tomato, konjac, eggplant. Juniper-Cured Carrot Lox (page 257) adds a new dimension to the typical formula, infusing the familiar smoky, salty profile with bright, piney, resinous notes. Peeled into long ribbons, the carrots soften almost instantly as the flax oil and curing mixture infuse through each strand. Draping easily over a bagel with cream cheese in a silky garland, additional garnishes are nice, but unnecessary when there’s already so much flavor packed into each bite.

Black Walnut Ice Cream

I may be a cheat in this case, but I’m not a liar. I’ll tell you right up front that I foraged for nothing to make the Maple Black Walnut Ice Cream (page 196). For shame, I did purchase the walnuts and maple syrup, and used cornstarch instead of Acorn Starch (page 176), too. What’s remarkable here is how many components of this recipe could be made from scratch if you were inclined to take things further. Even the vanilla extract has an optional upgrade path, with homemade Nocino (page 199) standing in for a deeper, walnut-inflected alternative. More sweet than nutty, I wish there was more emphasis placed on the nuts, though the high sugar content does keep the texture perfectly soft and scoopable straight from the freezer.

We spend so much of our lives filtering out the plants around us that they become little more than green background noise. Through equal parts natural history, personal storytelling, and practical instruction, Happy Snacking, Don’t Die! teaches readers to see again. Even if you’re never lucky enough to harvest morels from your local forest, you’ll likely come away looking at what does grow in your neighborhood with newfound appreciation.

Hannah (BitterSweet)12 Comments

Beauty Queen

Despite never in my life having dabbled in the world of psychedelics, I swore I was hallucinating the first time I saw beautyberries. How else could you explain such lurid, luminous purple berries, clustered like overstuffed pincushions on branches? Growing right in my backyard, seeming to spring up out of nothing, they were unlike anything I’d ever seen in nature. Alarm bells ringing, everything about them screamed “POISON!” to my untrained eye. Perhaps unsurprising to those who know me, my instincts were spectacularly wrong.

Follow The Neon Signs

Native to much of the southeastern United States, these jewel-toned fruits have long been prized by people and wildlife alike, though you’ll never find them at grocery stores or farmers markets. Native beautyberry (Callicarpa americana) grows wild from Texas to Florida and up through much of the Southeast, thriving along woodland edges, roadsides, and sunny clearings. The berries ripen in late summer and early fall, forming their signature clusters of impossibly bright purple fruit wrapped tightly around the stems. Unmistakably recognizable, they standing out like neon signs against the muted greens and browns of the landscape.

Fresh Isn’t Always Best

Historically, Indigenous peoples used various parts of the plant for medicinal purposes, while both Native Americans and early settlers recognized its value as a food source. Frankly, their flavor is not their best quality. Tart, tannic, dry, earthy, herbal and somewhat medicinal, few people would consider them a snack. Probably for the best, as consuming large amounts of raw beautyberries could be digestively ruinous, at least in the short term. That said, a handful or two can really brighten up and boring salad. Adding visual and flavor contrast, a little bit goes a long way.

Jam Session

Where beautyberries truly come to life is in the kitchen. Their naturally vivid pigment produces jewel-toned jellies, syrups, wines, and teas while adding much-needed sweetness. Beautyberry jelly has become the plant’s signature modern preparation, being the quickest, easiest, and most satisfying way to dispatch a large harvest of the questionable fruit. Don’t expect that color to hold through baking or fermentation, though; they betray their neon facade as the anthocyanins breakdown when exposed to heat and acidity.

Bug Off

One of the biggest assets of beautyberries has nothing to do with food. Crushing the fresh leaves and rubbing them onto the skin serves as a reasonably effective mosquito repellent. Research has shown that compounds in the leaves, particularly callicarpenal and related chemicals, can help deter mosquitoes and other biting insects. While not as long-lasting or consistent as commercial solutions, it’s a godsend for anyone stuck off the beaten track when the blood-sucking swarms descend.

Beauties And The Beasts

Beautyberries could be mistaken for an engineered hoax. In this age of artifice, even I can’t believe my eyes when they light up the back yard every late summer, waving their violently violet pompoms in the wind. They’ll stain everything you own if you given them half a chance, and still, I wouldn’t dream of uprooting my wild shrubbery. Any plant that can be simultaneously beautiful, baffling, and vaguely threatening deserves to thrive.

Hannah (BitterSweet)9 Comments

Nature’s Candy

Strongly associated with robust savory flavor, AKA umami, mushrooms across the board are prized for their meaty qualities. Not all mushrooms are created equal, much like people, and some stand out as particularly unique. Candy cap mushrooms are the outliers of the fungi kingdom, delicate and fragrant, with a distinctly sweet taste. How is it possible that such earthy edibles could earn the name of “candy”? Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.

What are candy cap mushrooms?

Unless you’re an avid forager on the west coast, you’re unlikely to find fresh candy caps anytime soon. They’re fragile, highly perishable, and very difficult to cultivate. Thus, most people encounter dried candy cap mushrooms sold in specialty or gourmet grocery stores in small quantities. A little bit goes a long way, so even though it feels like a substantial investment upfront, the price constitutes a considerable value for any food explorer.

What do candy cap mushrooms taste like?

Maple syrup is the most common descriptor of the uniquely sweet flavor and aroma; woodsy, subtly nutty and smokey, with an mistakable sugary aftertaste, despite containing no quantifiable sugar content. Other notes you may detect include butterscotch, brown sugar, caramel, and fenugreek.

What’s the best way to cook with candy cap mushrooms?

Unlike their umami brethren, these mushrooms are best suited for desserts. Ice cream and custard are very popular options, since the rich cream base is a great carrier for the flavor, easy to infuse without having large mushroom chunks in the final treat. Some people simply candy the mushrooms themselves in sugar syrup for a self-contained confection. Personally, I have a hard time taking the beaten path, so I had to look farther afield to honor my rare fungi.

Chocolate gravy is a southern staple, so why not take that concept and run with it? Remove the cocoa and use candy caps for both flavor and texture; the result looks alarmingly like sausage gravy while having the unnerving essence of maple pudding.

How can you serve candy cap gravy?

It’s an ideal breakfast companion for smothering all of your favorite comforting staples, such as…

Take a walk on the wild side with foraged flavors that only nature could create.

Continue reading “Nature’s Candy” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)2 Comments

Chickens Coming Home to Roost

As a summer-lover, sun-worshiper, and heat-seeker, I never thought I’d be so grateful to say goodbye. I’ve also never experienced a year with nearly 70 days at or above 100 degrees before. When you can’t go for a walk midday without burning to a crisp, or using your car for anything but baking cookies, it shifts the script significantly. There’s still a lot to love, from ripe heirloom tomatoes to warm late night swims, but for the first time ever, I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to embrace fall with open arms.

To that end, I’m diving head-first into cozy comfort foods. Bring on the pasta drowned in browned butter, the sautéed mushrooms dancing in white wine. It’s the season of wild mushrooms, flourishing in cool, damp weather. Nestled at the base of oak trees or hidden beneath fallen leaves, they cluster together like a bouquet of flowers, blooming in earthy shades of browns and greys. Springing up where you’d least expect it, luck is often a more important factor than skill when it comes to foraging.

This is my favorite type of backyard chicken. Hen of the woods mushrooms get their name from those feathery, frilled caps, said to look like a sitting hen. Given that they can grow into masses upwards of 50 pounds, I’d like that think there are no barnyard animals that can really measure up.

What makes hen of the woods mushrooms so great?

Also known as maitake mushrooms, they’ve long been touted for their medicinal properties, such as:

  • Boosting the immune system
  • Reducing cancer risks
  • Stabilizing blood sugar
  • Helping regulate blood pressure

What I’m most interested in, however, is their culinary value.

What do hen of the woods mushrooms taste like?

Both subtly nuanced and boldly earthy, delicate yet peppery and assertive, hen of the woods mushrooms are a brilliant bundle of contradictions. One moment they’re soft and tender, buttery and supple, the next they’re almost audibly crunchy, chewy and crisp. There’s no alternative that exactly replicates such a unique eating experience.

Pair that with a luscious blanket of caramelized onions, slowly browned over low heat, with a cascading sauce of nutty browned butter, spiked with a splash of dry white wine. Vegan tortellini tumble and tangle within the wilted mushroom fronds, springs of curly kale sprouting wildly like an overgrown forest floor. It’s a rustic, untamed, and understated plating for a powerhouse of flavor. Toasted pecans rain down like a gentle shower, ending with a clean, clear crunch.

While it’s a dish that could exist in any season given greater accessibility to farmed mushrooms and imported produce, the heart and soul of it can only exist in autumn. In the growing darkness and increasing cold, let it envelop you in warmth. Take comfort knowing that there’s so much good to come of this new season.

Continue reading “Chickens Coming Home to Roost” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)6 Comments

May Flowers

Long before it became associated with the labor movement and civil unrest, the 1st of May was a Celtic festival celebrating fertility, the renewal of springtime, and the coming summer crops. Marked more by flowers and bonfires than any food or drink, it’s not exactly high on the list for modern revelry. That said, there’s no reason why we can’t have our bouquets and eat them, too.

Nasturtium are some of my favorite edible flowers for their shockingly vibrant red, orange, and yellow tones, but most importantly when we’re talking about food, the spicy bite they conceal in those bold petals. Peppery, like a spicy mustard in flavor, they’re reminiscent of watercress and go a long way to add a bright punch in any fresh dish. The leaves, seed pods and flowers are all edible although of course, the blossoms have the most brilliant visual impact. Beyond that eye candy factor, they’re quite the little nutritional powerhouses, high in vitamin A, C, and D.

For the super thrifty, buds and seeds can be pickled and used as a substitute for capers. Used in concert with the flowers, you’re well on your way to a unique seasonal treat.

Another approach to preserving your harvest is to turn the greens into pesto. Use right away or freeze in cubes for long term storage. Simply pop out a cube or two and thaw directly in hot pasta to enjoy the fruits (and veggies) of your labor all year round.

Make the leaves into a Greek-inspired meal by using them to prepare dolma, instead of the traditional preserved grape or fig leaves. Chose larger leaves to accommodate a greater volume of filling and steam lightly to make them a bit more pliable before rolling.

Anywhere you might use tender greens like spinach or arugula, nasturtium leaves can fill in the gaps, too! Shred them into thin ribbons and incorporate into quick stir fries, soups, and of course both raw and lightly wilted salads.

Consider stuffing the blossoms with cashew cheese and serving them chilled or flash-fried like you would with baby squash blossoms. Since I find it almost impossible to track down the latter at any reasonable price, the allure of a readily available, completely free, foraged alternative is too much to resist. They’re brilliant served all by their lonesome, or used to top crackers, sliced cucumbers, or toast.

Speaking of toast… As you can see from the photo above, one of my favorite ways of highlighting the bright flavors and bold colors of the nasturtium is to simply use it as a toast topper. Instantly elevate the mundane, everyday slice of bread to something Instagram-worthy, and awaken your taste buds with the surprising peppery pops of flavor they conceal. Once you have these potent and beautiful blossoms in hand, there’s truly no way to go wrong.

Hannah (BitterSweet)3 Comments