In foraging terms, May is super-charged. Plants are falling over one another to pop out of the ground. Some of the best-tasting wild edible plants can be spotted all over the city within the next four weeks.
The vegetable in plain sight.
A booze bath turns last summer’s fruit haul into a warm winter infusion.
These wild berries are invasive, abundant and exquisite to eat.
One nickname, two plants, endless recipes.
Day lilies are fair game—and fine fare.
Noxious but nice, this invasive is delectable with dairy.
Captured in cordials, souvenirs of summer can warm chilly nights.
’Tis the season for oyster mushrooms.
Deprivation. That is what eating seasonally means. It means that in high summer you do not eat an apple. You walk right on by that crackling green Granny Smith that lurks year round in the grocery store bins. Because it didn’t come from around here. It means that in January you do not buy those stackable plastic boxes of raspberries (sometimes I cheat; I do), and it means that tomatoes are not the pink slices in silly salads or the vine-grown California ones in February, but the ripe, fat, sweet and bursting Brandywines of August.
It ain’t over till it’s over, sister. There is still gardening to be done. September has been weird, in terms of weather. And who…
Out on the Rockaways artist Frank Meuschke’s beach farm is pumping out tomatoes — at least until Irene pays a visit. We ate his Brandywines and Black Russians warm from the vine with burrata and torn up basil. Frank and his wife Betsy Alwin turn the crop that they can’t eat into sauce as fast as they can.