TJ | In Search of the Lean Six Life

February 17, 2019
by TJ 2 Comments

Winter Foraging, Week Ending 2/17/2019

(Is Sunday “really” the end of the week though? Or is it the start of the following week? I can’t believe I’ve posted (almost) every Sunday since April 2018, and that question only just occurred to me.)

This week we are discussing Jerusalem artichokes (Helianthus tuberosus), which are not in fact artichokes and do not in fact come from Jerusalem. Rather they are members of the sunflower family; however, rather than edible seeds, the tubers are the parts that are eaten.

Unlike many wild edibles, winter and early spring are the ideal times to harvest Jerusalem artichokes. Winter’s cold actually improves the edibility of Jerusalem artichoke tubers, because the freezing temperatures convert inulin into more digestible simple sugars. Inulin is a non-soluble prebiotic fiber, which is a polite medical way of saying that it may cause serious gastrointestinal eruptions after eating. Collecting the tubers after several freezes is one way to reduce their inulin. Another is to cook them extensively. Using both methods produces the best results. Especially if you have an important business meeting the following day.

Here are photos I took of Jerusalem artichokes back in August of last year. This is an ideal time to locate the plants, because the golden flowers stand out brilliantly against the green foliage.

Jerusalem Artichoke Flowers

Because of how tall the plants can get, the flowers manage to peek out from even massive tangles of roadside weeds.

You can just see the Jerusalem artichoke flowers in this pile of weeds.

By contrast, here are two photos of Jerusalem artichokes in the winter. They are much harder to recognize, unless you know where the colonies were growing earlier in the fall.

Jerusalem Artichoke Flowers in Winter

(I guess those are technically seed clusters, not flowers, but you know what I mean!)

These were some of the few stalks I found which were standing upright. The vast majority of stalks are flat on the ground, bent over near the base of the plant.

Jerusalem Artichoke Stalks in Winter

Luckily even bent over stalks remain attached to ground, giving you a starting point to dig for the tubers. They can be anywhere from 1-4 inches down, and up to a foot away from the stalks, so a dense colony of plants is your best bet for a good haul.

Unfortunately, I have been unable to actually harvest any myself. The weather here in central MD has fluctuated wildly between temps well below freezing and ice storms, and then sunny and highs in the 60s! Which is then followed by rain, and more ice as the temps slide back to “normal” for February. As a result, the ground is variously frozen solid or swampy mud. Neither condition is optimal for digging up tubers.

I have toyed with the idea of planting Jerusalem artichokes somewhere in my yard. Then at least I wouldn’t have to go hunting them when the ground finally thawed enough to dig them up. However, the plants can grow up to eight feet in optimal conditions, which means finding a location where tall flowers – followed by flopping stalks in the fall – aren’t a complete eyesore. Also, Jerusalem artichokes can become a nuisance, as any piece of tuber left in the ground (and there will always be tubers left in the ground) will regrow into new plants the following year. Basically, once planted, you will have Jerusalem artichokes forever. In fact digging up the tubers improves the health of the remaining plants, because it creates additional room for new plants to grow. And they will spread if given the slightest opportunity. Definitely a crop which needs forethought and planning before planting!

February 10, 2019
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Brambling On, Week Ending 2/10/2019

In this week’s post, we’ll look at another way the lack of winter foliage reveals wild edibles for later in the year. When the understory is smothered with leaves and thorns, it can be hard to know if anything buried under there is worth fighting to reach. In the winter, however, we can see the stems and note the location for future foraging forays.

A tangle of brambles in the winter

Here are a few of the central MD canes and brambles you might encounter on a winter hike, with photos to help tell them apart.

Blackberry: most of the local wild blackberries appear to be Rubus pensilvanicus. There are also Alleghany blackberries (Rubus allegheniensis) in the area, and they have narrower leaflets. (I am not sure there is a way to tell them apart by winter stems… I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen an Alleghany blackberry).

Blackberry in winter

Blackberry canes have wicked sharp thorns, and often feature furrows and ridges lengthwise along the stem. They may be branched or not, depending on whether the tip of the cane was injured during the previous year. (“Tipping” is a pruning approach used for domestic blackberries because the branches will produce more fruit than a single long cane.)

Black raspberry: The other native bramble species, Rubus occidentalis, can be easily distinguished from blackberries by the purplish coloring on the stems. Like blackberries, the fruit grows on biennial canes that grow one year, survive over the winter, and flower the following year.

Black raspberry in winter

The new canes that grow the following year will also have an eye-catching color, though light blue rather than purple. The black raspberry’s thorns are also thankfully smaller than those of blackberries.

Wineberry: Black raspberries often share a habitat with Rubus phoenicolasius, a non-native bramble species.

Wineberry in winter

In addition to thorns, wineberry canes bristle with red prickly hairs. In roadside thickets of brambles, the reddish color makes wineberries stand out almost as much as the purple stems of black raspberries.

Multiflora Rose: Rosa multiflora, technically foragable but not really interesting due to its small flowers and fruit (called “hips”). A non-native invasive species in central MD, this is the only kind of wild rose I have encountered so far.

Rose in winter

While similar to blackberry canes, the multiflora roses of my acquaintance tend to be more upright (rather than long and arching); more likely to have branches; and less likely to be deeply furrowed than blackberries. Oh, but the thorns are just as sharp!

The last two plants in this post are visually similar to the previous ones, although they are not related. (Blackberries, raspberries, wineberries and roses are all members of the Rosaceae family.)

Elderberry: The winter form of Sambucus canadensis shares the long, arching leafless stems of the previously discussed canes.

Elderberry in winter

You can tell elderberry by the lack of thorns, the larger size compared to the other canes discussed in this post, the scars from last year’s leaf stems, and the raised bumps on the bark.

Greenbrier: Smilax rotundifolia is a small sprawling vine that also has a thorny stem that looks similar to roses.

Greenbrier in the winter

However roses stems are pale green or sometimes red (depending on the amount of cold it has been exposed to), while greenbrier sports glossy green stems, which look almost artificially colored compared to the dull, washed out shades of most winter plants.

February 4, 2019
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The Forager’s Dilemma, Week Ending 2/3/2019

(Sorry, Mr. Pollan, I couldn’t resist!)

When I started foraging a few years ago, I never imagined I would be in the crux of a conservation crisis.

I just thought it was cool that humans are surrounded by food. Free food. Natural food. Food that has never shivered in refrigerated tractor trailers; food that has not been yanked from its natural habitat to be shipped around the world to a consumer who knows (and cares) nothing of its homeland; food that wasn’t forced to grow under the frequent rain of chemical pesticides and artificial fertilizer; food that remains untouched by plastic wrap and unlit by fluorescent bulbs.

Unfortunately, some of that food is unwelcome and unwanted.

Meet the much maligned focus of this week’s winter foraging spotlight: garlic mustard (Alliaria petiola).

First year garlic mustard basal rosette. (Note the leaf in the foreground is slightly frost-damaged but the rest are fine.)

Garlic mustard is an invasive plant that grows under tree-lined property edges and in the understory of mature forests. It especially loves disturbed ground (like many invasive species). It has a two-year lifecycle, that is to say it is a biennial, surviving the cold of winter as a basal rosette (a group of leaves that spread out in a circle and stay close to the ground), and then producing flower stalks in its second year. It produces tiny, easily dispersed seeds like many members of the mustard family. But in addition to its cold and shade tolerance, and its prolific seed production, garlic mustard is also allelopathic. That is to say, its roots exudes chemicals that suppress the growth of other competing plants near by.

Garlic mustard is bad news, from an environmental and ecological perspective.

But garlic mustard is edible. Some people like to use the first year leaves as a seasoning, although others say it’s too bitter and strong. The second year shoots, young leaves, and flower buds are apparently its tastiest stage when enjoyed as a spring vegetable. The seed pods and seeds can be eaten as well, although by that time, garlic mustard is already well on its way to invading yet patch of soil.

But any plant conservationist (and a LOT of websites) will tell you to pull garlic mustard up by the root as soon as you see it.

But if you do that to the first year plant, you won’t get to dine on the flowering stalks the second year.

On the other hand, if you pull up that first year plant, apparently the roots are edible too, with a flavor similar to horseradish.

(But don’t try this when the ground has been frozen – like recently in central Maryland – because the leaves will break off leaving the roots thoroughly stuck in the soil.)

What’s an environmentally conscious forager to do?

… yeah, I’m gonna eat those weeds. Later. In mid-spring when the flowering stalks are at their best. As long as I pull them and eat them before they can go to seed, I think it will be OK. I hope, anyway!

In order to harvest the young flowering stalks in spring, one first needs to know how to recognize the first year plants. First year garlic mustard leaves are very distinctly shaped, often described as kidney-like as they curve back around the stem.

The following photo shows a garlic mustard leaf surrounded by chickweed (Stellaria media) and purple dead nettle (Lamium purpureum), two other winter-hardy wild edibles. (I guess one single garlic mustard plant can’t exude enough chemicals to fend off the other weeds!) The garlic mustard and dead nettle look similar but can be distinguished with a few details. Note how they are both roughly circular, but the garlic mustard leaf (upper right) curves back around the stem unlike the dead nettle leaf (lower left). Purple dead nettle leaves also grow from a stem, rather than a basal rosette.

Garlic Mustard leaf (upper right) compared to Dead Nettle (lower left)

If you harbor lingering doubts, you can tell the difference by touch or smell. Purple dead nettle has the characteristic square stem of members of the mint family, and the leaves are covered with soft hairs as opposed to the smooth leaves of garlic mustard. Additionally, when garlic mustard leaves are crushed they smell pungent, like, well, garlic and mustard. Purple dead nettle leaves by contrast do not have any strong, distinctive aroma. (Unless “green” counts as a smell.)

First year garlic mustard leaves are also similar in shape to common mallow (Malva neglecta).

Common mallow in the winter

However common mallow leaves are much smaller overall, and grow from a stem rather than from a single, central point in the ground. Also, while both mallow and garlic mustard leaves have toothed margins, those of mallow are sharper versus the rounder margins of garlic mustard.

Second year garlic mustard plants have more elongated, almost triangular-shaped leaves. I don’t have any pictures yet… hopefully I will be able to share those photos (and recipes) with you later this year!

January 27, 2019
by TJ 2 Comments

Pokey Foraging, Week Ending 1/27/2019

This is the year I am eating poke sallat. Yes, I know. I’m crazy.

DISCLAIMER: my own plans to try poke sallat should not be construed as endorsement that pokeweed is safe to eat. Pokeweed is toxic except in very narrow circumstances. The author does not assume responsibility for anybody getting sick or dying because they rushed out to eat pokeweed after reading this blog.

OK, on with the post.

Last year I lacked confidence in my timing to harvest pokeweed (Phytolacca americana). The plants went from tiny shoots to large and pink-tinged in a few weeks. Since doing additional research, I believe the early- to mid-May shoots & leaves were probably fine. Although earlier would have been better. Pokeweed turns magenta as it ages, and with more sun exposure. Also the leaves apparently can be eaten as well, and seem to be even more commonly consumed than the shoots.

Why am I talking about pokeweed in winter? Well, now is a great time to identify opportunities for spring consumption because dead pokeweed is very dramatic. The formerly magenta stalks fade to light brown, making them stand out starkly compared to surrounding plant matter.

Pale Pokeweed Stalks in Winter

Sometimes the leaves and shriveled berries still cling to the plants, which helps confirm the identification.

Once dead, the hollow stalks will often be bent over but still intact.

Bent Pokeweed Stalks

Pokeweed is a perennial which grows from very deep, aggressive root systems. Wherever you see winter pokeweed, start looking for new shoots from the crown by late April. (In central Maryland, anyway. The timing may be different elsewhere.) Pokeweed also grows from the seeds scattered everywhere by the birds which love the berries, but there’s no way to predict where these new plants will grow.

My plan is to harvest the pokeweed when it is about 6″ tall or less. Some authors say that any time before the berries turn green is safe, but I am unwilling to test that theory…let me survive one meal first! Because the roots are especially toxic, I will cut off the shoots at ground level rather than trying to dig or pull the stalk to harvest the edible parts. A lot of sources suggest that pokeweed needs to be boiled in three changes of water for at least 20 minutes – that is an hour of boiling, so I am pretty skeptical of whether the remnants are even worth eating at that stage. The least boiled-to-death guidance I have read suggests one minute in boiling water, then another 15 minutes in a fresh pot of boiling water. Either way, pokeweed can absolutely never be eaten raw.

Best of all, I have a significant “crop” of poke growing throughout my yard. I should be able to collect and enjoy a decent amount. (Although I may be the only one in the house who eats it!)

Why am I bothering, you may ask? Because it’s there, and I have to know. Plus, pokeweed is supposed to be delicious. (Sources say if there is any trace of bitterness left, it needs to be boiled longer – it should never be bitter.) Last but not least, it apparently contains a lot of vitamins and minerals. In a simpler time, after a winter of living on dried, canned and root cellar foods, pokeweed would have been a nutritious and tasty way to welcome spring.

If you want to do your own research on the edibility of pokeweed, here are some links:

https://www.houzz.com/discussions/1855434/poke-salat-truth-vs-myth

http://www.eattheweeds.com/can-be-deadly-but-oh-so-delicious-pokeweed-2/

https://delishably.com/vegetable-dishes/Poke-Sallet-Poke-Salad-Recipe-How-to-Handle-Harvest-and-Prepare-the-Poisonous-Pokeweed

Additionally, here is a site with nutritional info:

https://skipthepie.org/vegetables-and-vegetable-products/pokeberry-shoots-poke-cooked-boiled-drained-with-salt/

January 26, 2019
by TJ Leave a comment

Salsify Bisque

One of the themes I am exploring this year is “localizable” recipes. Or maybe I mean “localable”. I’m not sure what the word is/should be yet because I am still inventing it.

Basically, the goal is to find, try and publish recipes that can be made with local, in-season ingredients for central Maryland. So even if they aren’t ACTUALLY local because I bought the ingredients at massive grocery store which is diversely stocked thanks to a global supply chain enabled by cheap oil, the ingredients could be sourced locally if that same global supply chain came to an end. (Not speculating on the “why”… there are other blogs for that conversation.)

Since I recently brought my winter garden to a close, I thought I would take this opportunity to try a “localable” / “localizable” meal. Turns out I harvested just enough salsify to try this soup recipe.

Salsify Bisque – a local-able/in season winter soup

You guys. It was SO good. I am very sorry I don’t have more salsify, because the soup was amazing. I substituted sliced shiitake mushrooms for the oysters, and added them after blending the soup so they would retain their shape and texture. (Local mushrooms could be used instead easily enough; dried if needed to be available in January.) I garnished the soup with cajun-spiced pumpkin seeds, cheddar cheese cubes, and minced carrot greens. (I didn’t have any parsley.)

One important note about the original recipe: it serves four if you are having an appetizer-sized bowl of soup! For the main (or only) course of dinner, it serves two. Two who were very sad that the pot was empty and there wasn’t more.

(And I know wild/feral salsify grows locally, but I have been unable to identify it except when it’s already too late to eat it!)

January 21, 2019
by TJ Leave a comment

Winter Foraging, Week Ending 1/20/2019

This week, I’m blogging about a previously mentioned plant, common evening primrose (Oenothera biennis). The original post showed summer time photos, as well as one picture of its “winter aspect.”

In the winter, evening primrose stalks stand out with their brown fluted seedpods. Like much winter foraging, identifying the evening primrose stalks in the cold months gives you a place to which to return when the weather warms up. This biennial plant offers edible roots in its first year, and edible flower stalks, flowers and seed heads in its second year of life.

I recently found evening primrose standing out clearly against the snow.

Evening Primrose in the Snow

(There are some additional photos on the Maryland Biodiversity Project site as well.)

I haven’t been able to confirm this yet, but I assume not all evening primrose plants in a patch will be on the same life cycle. These dried stalks are from second year plants, and new first year plants will start from their seeds; but there must be other plants in the area that will be in their second year during 2019. I think. Maybe. We’ll see!

In addition to locating future crops, evening primrose has a bonus winter benefit. Some of these seed heads still have seeds in them!

I can hear some of you now… well, one of you in particular. “Are the seeds of sufficient caloric value to be worth the effort to harvest?” Obviously the crop would have been larger if you had gathered the seed heads before they dried and lost half their seeds; but perhaps you only just discovered the plants now, in the dead of winter. Or you’d used all the seeds you harvested in the fall. Or you just spontaneously realized you needed gamma linolenic acid (GLA) in your life. Who knows? The point is: some seeds are still there.

The seed heads are made up of four chambers which can be pried apart down to the base. If there are seeds left in mid-winter, they will be tucked away in this part. Rather than separating the four chambers by hand, I find it faster to use garden sheers to cut through each seed head near the base. Doing this above a mesh strainer over a bowl allows the seeds to fall through into the bowl while the rest of the plant matter stays in the strainer.

Well. In theory anyway. Evening primrose seeds suffer the same harvesting challenges as any small seeds (mustard and amaranth, for example): winnowing is an essential step to remove the last traces of unwanted dust and plant bits from the seeds. The usual winnowing process involves pouring the seeds between two bowls while a light breeze blows. The seeds fall to the waiting bowl and the winds carries away the chaff.

The seeds in the following picture still need to be winnowed. Obviously!

Evening Primrose Seeds with Chaff

Unfortunately, the breeze around my house is ALWAYS strong, which is why there is STILL no post about my amaranth harvest last year. (I tried, I really did.)

Once you have the evening primrose seeds cleaned – better than in my photo, please! – they can be used anywhere you would want a healthy crunchy topping. They can be sprinkled onto yogurt, desserts, or used in baked goods in place of poppy seeds. Some sources suggest toasting the seeds in a dry skillet over a low heat until they begin to smell fragrant. (I haven’t tried this personally so I can’t tell you what it smells like!)

Or you can do what I will probably do with my small, uncleaned harvest… scatter them around the yard and wait for next year’s crop to grow!

January 19, 2019
by TJ 3 Comments

Garden End, Winter 2018-2019

In the face of arctic cold, with snow blanketing the ground, I brought my 2018 – 2019 winter garden to a close.

This year, I coddled three different beds with a variety of cold-hardy crops, all the way into mid-January. We’ve never made it this long.

In exchange for my diligence in covering the beds when the cold- threatened, and peeling back the protective layers when the sun returned, yesterday I harvested:

Several small daikon radishes
Broccoli rabe
A singular carrot
Two parsnips
A variety of kale and chard leaves
Three small cabbages
More salsify than I know how to use
A few random hakurei turnips
A teensy little spinach

Winter gardening lessons I learned this year:

These crops all survived when temps unexpectedly dropped into the nid-20s one night. The straw tucked around them kept them alive even though the beds were exposed. (The forecast only called for lows around freezing… that’s what I get for believing the weathermen.)
Temps in the upper 20s / low 30s barely phased these plants.
Daikon radishes and hakurei turnips actually germinated and grew despite the cold.
I need to plant only in the centers of the boxes because the soil freezes at the sides.
I need to invest in better cold frames and low tunnels.
Winter gardening is tricky because most cold weather plants won’t germinate in the summer heat; but by the time it’s cold enough to germinate, it’s too late for them to reach a decent size to survive into the winter months.
I hope I like salsify! I planted it because I couldn’t find any grocery stores that carried it – now I have a ton of it! And by a ton, I mean around a pound. Which is a lot when you don’t know how a vegetable tastes!

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