Wild and wonderful

Published on Tuesday 8 July 2008 13:09

ON the top shelf of my fridge, alongside half an onion and a tub of strawberry yoghurt, is a little Tupperware container. If I gave you three guesses to correctly identify the bright-green purée within, what would you say? You might take a stab at it being spinach, mushy peas or guacamole. Actually it's something far more exciting – chickweed. Yes, I've found that the fibrous plant that blankets the floor of woodland glades, and is cursed by gardeners everywhere, is deliciously peppery a

Don't worry, I haven't turned to eating weeds because of the credit crunch, and its effect on my dwindling finances. Instead, I've been inspired by a new foraging workshop, part of a series of day classes devised by Caroline Hoyer-Miller who runs Twice, a shop at Inchyra House, Perth. This one is being taught by Fiona Houston and Xa Milne, authors of the new pro-foraging read, Seaweed and Eat It.

The book, and one-day session, guides you through the dos and don'ts of eating wild food, in a family-friendly fashion. Forget staying alive in the great outdoors, la Ray Mears, but instead imagine connecting with the wilderness around you (even if you live in the city).

"We both love cooking and can't help thinking about what we're walking past in the street and not using," says Edinburgh-based Milne, who met co-author, Houston, in their children's school playground a couple of years ago. "We aim to talk people through only what's easy to find, easy to identify and, most importantly, is extremely tasty."

To kick off their workshop, Houston and Milne take me, and the other participants, through a slide show featuring them, their families and a dog called Jock. It turns out to be a real recipe for inspiration, with every image illustrating a foodie adventure – from picking blaeberries in the Trossachs, "the ultimate medieval food", making mayflower tea at home, to finding dulce and rock samphire along the Fife coastline, and sorrel, elderflower and wild garlic on Arthur's Seat. Their children look blissfully grubby and, in one picture, a small blonde boy has purple berry juices smeared all over his chin.

I'm most inspired by the fact that many of the photographs are taken along Edinburgh's Union Canal cycle path, meaning I can "shop" for wild food on my way to and from work.

"That's a good area to forage in," says Milne. "The council have a policy about wildlife corridors – that path is one of them, so it's not sprayed with weed-killer and is totally safe to pick in."

By this time, we're all sold on eating wild food, and can't wait to get into the grounds of this beautiful 19th-century mansion to see what we can find. First of all, we're split into two groups, as Houston says, "to inspire a competitive spirit", and I join Milne's team.

Outside, armed with baskets, gloves and secateurs, the first variety of plant we spot is the ubiquitous nettle. Our group leader urges us to go for the young leaves which are nearest the ground, as they're the "best eating", and we tear out handfuls from the root, being careful not to get stung. Then, we're encouraged to spot plants that we think might be edible.

The ground is dappled with sunlight, illuminating any little weeds and shrubs. We spot wood sorrel; "it has a lemony, sweet taste, but contains oxalic acid, which can bring on kidney stones, so only eat a little," says Milne. We also discover non-edible pineapple weed, which grows between the paving slabs in cities, and smells strongly of its namesake when scrunched between your fingers; ground elder, "delicious when steamed like spinach"; vanilla-scented sweet woodruff, "was thrown onto the floor to disguise bad odours in medieval times"; dandelion leaves, "in countries where they are natural foragers they go mad for these"; hedge garlic, which is "delicious with lamb" and, most excitingly, something called pignut. This white perennial plant hides a dark-brown edible root underground, which has to be dug out with a penknife – "you have to get the landowner's permission to dig one up", says Milne. It tastes curiously like a sweet brazil nut and, according to our expert, used to be grubbed up by children on their way to school.

My excitement that the wild larder is actually more like a feral sweet shop, is compounded when we're told about sweet sicily. We don't find any today, but Milne tells us that it smells, and tastes, just like liquorice.

Back to base with our spoils, we decant them onto the farmhouse table for a "show and tell" of everything we've picked. Very little of it is inedible, or even poisonous, and Milne points out that "if bees like something, it's usually OK", and that we should always smell these plants, as the scent usually reveals what it might taste like – hemlock, for instance, smells like mouse poo. The other participants, more seasoned foragers than me, have a couple of cautionary tales.

"The early leaves of the plant, lords and ladies, look like sorrel," says Hoyer-Miller. "I picked and tasted a leaf of that once and, honestly, I felt like my mouth was going to explode."

Another participant tells us of the time she picked wild chanterelles for a curry, and inadvertently ended up adding a poisonous mushroom into the mix. Needless to say, she felt very, very queasy. All these anecdotes emphasise the need to identify everything you harvest, until you become familiar with the various species. As we're with a couple of real experts, we can rest assured that they know the difference between the poisonous hemlock and the edible hawthorn.

Now, all that's left to do is to cook up our harvest on the Aga in Hoyer-Miller's beautiful country kitchen.

First of all, the Seaweed and Eat It girls whip up a batch of elderflower fritters. You might argue that anything is delicious if deep-fried, dusted with icing sugar and topped with a squeeze of lemon. However, who knew that this wild flower could still retain its delicate floral flavour under all that sweetness?

Their other recipes include a traditional nettle soup and a "sugarific" cordial, made using sugar, water and that stingy weed (you can also make one from mayflower, blackthorn or elderflower). This sticky drink is initially green, but, after steeping for three days, it turns a beautiful sunset red shade.

We're also shown how to make that chickweed pesto, the one that's now sitting in my fridge. The weed is mixed with pine nuts, olive oil, lemon and Parmesan, then blitzed with a food mixer into a paste.

Tonight, I might just have some of that with gnocchi. First of all, on my way home from work, I'll be looking for some of that elusive sweet sicily – for dessert. You see, once you know that free food is everywhere, spotting it can become an addiction. As Milne says: "Foraging is fun and compulsive. I always try to spot edible plants growing in unexpected places."

Seaweed and Eat It by Fiona Houston and Xa Milne is published by Virgin Books, priced 10.99. For more recipes visit www.foragerangers.com

Twice (01738 860066, www.twiceonline.co.uk) workshops at Inchyra House, near Perth include: Autumn Foraging with Fiona Houston and Xa Milne, 16 September; Appreciating Antiques with Jeremy Gow, 25 September; Wine tasting for Beginners with Nicola Arcedeckne-Butler, 30 September; Autumn Flowers with Jane Lindsey, 7 October. Day courses start from 95pp, including coffee and a two-course lunch with wine.