While familiar, they remain nameless to most passersby, answering only and collectively to the epithet of “weed.”
Since brine is often just as delicious as the veggies it cured, forager Marie Viljoen uses pickling liquid in cocktails with everything from vodka to gin.
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.
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.
Chances are, there is an oyster mushroom nearer to you than you think