Friday, August 26th, 2011 at
Juicy Ribes berries dangling from spiny branches, beware! Photo by Gregg Davis.
The currants and gooseberries were not yet ripe here at 11,000 feet in the Colorado Rockies when I published my August Wild Edible Notebook, which is devoted to berries—strawberries and huckleberries, specifically—but now they are, and oh what a currant season the current season is!
I had an inkling of the potential the other day when we visited the Como Roundhouse during Railroad Days and Deb was kind enough to let Gregg and I and Kor from Holland out back to see the ruins of the housing tenements, where I found big bushes laden with ripe and hairy but not altogether tasty red currants. Yesterday, however, when we pulled into the parking lot of the Limber Grove Trail, berries were the first thing I saw.
I couldn’t believe the size of those purple berries. There were so many of them—and the biggest I’ve ever seen! So eager was I to begin collecting that I didn’t realize I’d positioned myself in a big anthill until ants were swarming up my leg. After hopping around maniacally to shake them off, however, I found better footing and returned to my collecting.
The bushes were rife with big, painful spines, complicating picking. When I absentmindedly tried raking the bush with my fingers like I do with huckleberries, I wound up cutting a painful, horizontal paper-cut-like slice into a purple-red stained finger. Read the rest of this entry
Wednesday, August 24th, 2011 at
Angelica leaves and stalks waiting to flavor a bottle of gin.
How many times have I hiked the same route never to discover angelica? Probably more than a hundred. Of course, this is very much in keeping with what I have come to expect from wild plants—I almost always find something good when I’m out foraging, but it’s often not what I set out to find.
In his angelica entry in Edible and Medicinal Plants of the West (1997), Gregory L. Tilford generalizes the genus (Angelica spp.) instead of identifying specific species.
According to Growing Hermione’s Garden, Angelica archangelica, commonly known as garden angelica, Holy Ghost, wild celery and Norwegian angelica, has been cultivated both as a vegetable and a medicinal since the 10th century. The name of the biennial plant “comes from the Greek word ‘arkhangelos’ (arch-angel), due to the myth that it was the archangel Michael who told of its use as medicine,” the blogger writes.
I searched but did not find a USDA listing for angelica in Colorado, although Angelica atropurpurea L., aka purple-stemmed angelica, is listed as endangered in Maryland and Rhode Island and threatened in Tennessee—so these are not states in which to forage it. Angelica lucida L. is listed in Connecticut and New York as endangered and Rhode Island as threatened; Angelica triquinata Michx is listed as endangered in Kentucky and Maryland; and Angelica venenosa is listed as a species of concern in Connecticut. There are approximately 60 species of Angelica in total. Read the rest of this entry
Wednesday, August 17th, 2011 at
Halfway through August I am once again honored to present the Wild Edible Notebook, my journal-style tale of select plants. This third issue is about berries, specifically the strawberries and huckleberries we’re finding in the Colorado high country this month. Unlike the last issue there are no recipes per se, although I do spend some time pontificating on the dishes we’ve been making with this delicious bounty. Aside from that there are the usual humorous and introspective tidbits characteristic of my first person accounts.
The August edition is 98% brand new content (thus accounting for my long hiatus in posting blog entries). If you want to read it, you have to download it—and that means joining the list if you haven’t already.
How to Join the List
Again, if you go through the process to join my list, then I will probably email once (and at most twice) a month. You can also unsubscribe whenever you want. To join, scroll to the bottom of this page and fill in your info. Within minutes, you’ll receive an email asking you to click on a confirmation link, and after doing that, you’ll get another email with the download link for the August issue of the Wild Edible Notebook—in your choice of either a handy print-and-fold booklet or a file you can breeze through onscreen or print out one-sided.
For the September edition, I’m hoping to start an advertising section, featuring both established purveyors of wild food products/equipment as well as classified ads by individuals. These will be free of charge until further notice, so please, send them my way and I’ll try to get you in the next issue.
Sunday, August 7th, 2011 at
Mullein inspires short Photoshop diversion.
A few weeks ago I received a kindly offer of homemade botanical paper from a mullein-loving kindred spirit who uses it to flavor her paper. How could I say no to that?
When the paper arrived I was charmed thrice over—first by the thought, then by the lovely 4” x 4” pieces of mullein paper themselves, and finally, by the message regarding the messages the “Papers of Intent” are intended to convey.
They are handmade by Stefanie Kompathoum aka Oakmother for “prayers, wishes, contracts, affirmations, ritual, ceremony, and when you want your words to carry special meaning.” The paper is made of 100% post consumer recycled content and is packaged in biodegradable materials, so that sounds like pretty good karma to me.
This particular batch is mullein-flavored—since what we connected over in the first place was mullein (Verbascum thapsis)—one warm and fuzzy mullein celebration in particular.
“Take courage with mullein,” the label states. It “protects from wild animals, evils spirits, negativity and nightmares.” (This is excellent timing, as the evening news in addition to Gregg’s absence have me obsessively locking the doors in this deep, dark forest where I live; plus I’m afraid of wild animals too—specifically, Henry, the bear, destroying the bird feeders while I sleep.) Read the rest of this entry
Friday, August 5th, 2011 at
Worth the effort. Wild strawberry photo by Gregg Davis.
Today, after about six hours of early-morning work on other projects, I headed out excitedly and somewhat anxiously to find a few of those wonderful, glorious mushrooms that have been popping up with all this rain.
We found some yesterday after our Summit County errands, stopping on our way back to Fairplay at a forested spot a friend recommended. Mushrooms were everywhere, albeit mostly past their prime or covered in poo (I exaggerate but I did step in one awful steaming pile of green/yellow grass-filled poo, heaven forbid), but we felt nonetheless like kids in a candy store, finding huge Leccinums, bright yellow-capped and large red-capped Suillus, and puffballs amidst the trees. (Thanks for the tip, Miller!) We didn’t harvest any to eat there, but it was good intel on the potential. Read the rest of this entry
Thursday, August 4th, 2011 at
Albatrellus confluens under huckleberries at 11,000 feet.
There’s a funny mushroom growing all over the conifer forest behind our house at 11,000 feet above Fairplay, Colorado. It is light pink/peach in color, similar to a white person’s flesh, but cracked on the surface, like an overworked foot. As this mushroom ages, a green mold takes hold amidst the cracks and on the surface and the mushroom itself gets firm and tough.
Does this sound appetizing? Because we’ve been really excited about eating this mushroom lately.
An Albatrellus a Day
The mushroom is Albatrellus confluens. Vera Stucky Evenson describes it in similar terms to mine but without the human body part analogies in Mushrooms of Colorado and the Southern Rocky Mountains (1997). A former name for the same mushroom is Polyporus confluens, according to Michael Kuo (2007) at mushroomexpert.com. Read the rest of this entry