The great stakes and pains of planting our mini farm does not escape one day in our minds. Gigantic effort, sweat, sometimes some tears, all to ensure the bounty we see rolling in like tidal waves at this height of the season. Far from unappreciated, the bags of tomatillos, buckets of pears and plums, and fat bunches of basil bombard our tiny kitchen that has recently been cut in half in the midst of home construction. Every spare minute is now spent canning, pickling, seed sorting, drying, and pretty much always eating, just to make sure nothing goes to waste. The ironic thing about some of the products rolling in and out of our kitchen is that we never lifted a finger in their creation. Amazingly, a large portion of these preserving projects I find myself immersed in has a foraged subject. Mysterious appearances of wild edibles are being recreated into highly enjoyable farm goods and menu items here at the homestead. I will share a few with you.

Asian Purslane Salad

This is a two birds with one stone kind of dish. While weeding our peppers, we just pluck a few handfuls of purslane and throw them together for dinner. It is also extremely high in Omega’s.

2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 small squirt of Sriracha, or hot pepper flakes to taste
Juice of 1 lemon
¼ cup soy sauce
1 Tbsp toasted sesame oil
1-2 Tbsp olive oil (optional to thicken)
Salt & pepper to taste
2 bunches Purslane, trimmed into 2 inch segments

In the bottom of a large salad bowl, combine the mustard, hot sauce, and lemon juice. Add the soy sauce then the sesame oil. While mixing, drizzle in the olive oil if desired to thicken the dressing. Taste and add salt and pepper to taste. Add the Purslane and toss then serve.

Wild Blackberry Jam

About four different varieties of blackberry vines, no, I should say walls, surround the edges of our property. We have made tunnels and paths to pluck as many as possible and keep the excess (what can’t be made into pies or jam on the spot) in the freezer for a spontaneous winter berry treat. These wild strains are muskier, tart, and tend to have more seeds.

6 cups wild blackberries
6 cups sugar
Juice of one large lemon

In a large, heavy bottom pot, place de-stemmed and rinsed berries. Crush if desired. Add the sugar and cook over medium heat. Add the lemon juice and bring to a rolling boil until the jam is thick and reaches the gelling point. Pack into hot, sterilized jars and process for 10 minutes or simply store in the refrigerator.

Note: Read about canning to thoroughly educate yourself about preserving food.

Loquat Leaf Tea

Asian cultures have attributed Loquat Leaf tea to having a large amount of health benefits, including blood sugar regulation. Our loquat tree generally went unnoticed aside from random snacking on its fleeting fruit in passing. Now, we harvest the leaves, dry them on the clothesline until brittle, and snip them into thin strips. Brew like any other loose-leaf tea. Makes a delicious, tropical flavored iced tea as well.

Comfrey Limeade

1 Large bunch comfrey
1 Half gallon limeade, homemade or store bought
Water to taste

Thoroughly wash comfrey and remove stems and other fibrous material. Tear into small pieces and place in blender, adding limeade gradually with motor running until almost gone. Pour puree through strainer to remove pulp. Add water to dilute if too sweet, then chill.

Photo: bhamsandwich

The underground restaurant scene has been gaining ground, so to speak, and while I’ve been hearing about many iterations of secret eateries all over the country (and the world), I had yet to check one out for myself until last week, when I bought two tickets to attend Wild Kitchen—an underground supper put on by San Francisco upstart ForageSF.

ForageSF is the brainchild of Iso Rabins, a committed young scavenger who has made a business of the bounty of the Bay Area by creating a “community-supported forage” subscription service, much like a CSA. Members of Rabins’ CSF get a box full of whatever he’s pulled from land and sea, all subject to the seasons (some of which are even more fleeting then farm crop seasons, such as a quick blink of wild mushrooms and miner’s lettuce). Rabins began doing occasional secret suppers as a way to assemble community around the delights of cooking and eating foraged food.

I bought my tickets online based upon a menu sent by email that promised fried cattail hearts, wild vegetarian sushi, foraged nori, local spring vegetables, and acorn ice cream. On the day of the dinner, I received another email revealing the address of the temporary establishment—fortunately just a few blocks from my house in the Mission.

About twenty people showed up, some whom were already CSF subscribers and friends of Rabins, and others who were just passing through town from the east coast on their way to the weekend’s Maker Faire festivities. As Rabins said after the meal was complete, the crowd defines the evening, and this was a lively group. Conversation never ceased at the two long tables as we sampled radish greens from nearby McLaren Park, sipped 5-year miso soup, and drank a wide array of wine that arrived on the table via the BYOB policy.

Overall, the Wild Kitchen excelled as the sum of its parts. The food was very good, but the experience revolved as much on the novelty of eating unusual ingredients with a tangible backstory (I’d never tried cattails and certainly wouldn’t have thought to munch on the greens that grow in the shadows of McLaren park) and on the group of people that showed up to share it. I left thinking that the primary difference between making a great, interesting meal for friends and hosting a secret supper is that you recoup your costs and you get to be surprised by your own guest list. Certainly neither of these factors is to be underestimated—it was great fun to meet other local food enthusiasts and if felt good to support a venture founded on the principles of fair food and fulfilling work. As Iso Rabins builds a community around the fun of foraging, he’s also building himself a satisfying, independent career.

Photos: Monica Jensen

It is with much anticipation that wild morel season is approaching for much of North America. The Upper Midwest and Northeast boast some of the largest yields of these highly prized wild mushrooms. Even larger numbers are collected from the mountainous areas of the West. In fact, in the western mountains, you will find the commercial collectors out in force this spring, following the paths of last season’s fires which will spawn a huge crop of a particular type of morel that fruits after burns.

The public’s interest in foraging for wild edibles in general, and wild mushrooms in particular, is on the rapid increase in North America. (Whether it has anything to do with the fact that none of us can afford to buy groceries anymore, is left to the reader to ponder!) Morel season is a great time for novices to get started as the risks are relatively low; morels are a pretty safe bet with a brief familiarization.

Each year I take part in, as well as lead, many organized mushroom forays around the country and sometimes abroad. In addition, my entire family goes out collecting wild mushrooms throughout the year; the first wild mushroom picked by all three of my kids was a morel. And I guess that’s pretty much how I got started as well. Some of my earliest memories are of being in the woods with my family, hunting morels in the springtime in southern Ohio.

So this spring, maybe you too will give mushroom foraging a try! To get you started, I would strongly urge finding someone with experience. This shouldn’t be hard to do—as far as wild mushrooms go, morel season draws more folks into the woods than any other kind of mushroom. In fact, there are many organized morel forays all across North America and it’s very likely you can find one in your area. In his book Morels, Michael Kuo describes some of the most popular morel events (yep, there are even morel festivals!) across the Midwest. Tom Naumann of Magnolia, Illinois, is a well-known morel guide and, along with several other experts, operates “Morel University” which aims to make expert hunters out of all who take their short (but oh so tasty) course in the spring.

So, where to look? (Again, I cannot overemphasize the benefits of going with a veteran—both to your success and to your health. While small, there is a real chance of finding and consuming poisonous mushrooms. Never take a chance on eating a mushroom that you’re not absolutely certain of: when in doubt, throw it out!) Throughout much of the range east of the Rockies, you’ll have your best luck checking beneath American elm trees (especially recently dead ones), white ash trees, tulip trees, and in very old apple orchards. This last one has been known to morellers for generations. But recently some mushroom hunters have claimed that long term spraying of the apple trees with heavy metal-based fungicides in the last century may cause ill effects in those consuming apple orchard morels. A report in the winter issue of the journal Fungi goes a long way to dispel this myth. Turns out that the heavy metals used to prevent fungal disease in the apple orchards (primarily lead arsenate), while no doubt bad for the environment (and no longer used), is in a chemical form that’s not likely taken up into the mushroom’s tissues. Of course, more research needs to be done but for the time being there is no reason to suspect apple orchard morels are any less safe than those found growing anywhere else. And if you are wary, simply stick to the woods; there are usually plenty of morels to go around!

Right about now, the forests of North America are starting to come alive. Two-legged creatures, not sighted in the woods since around this time last year, can be spotted moving about in a stealthy fashion or crouching…on the lookout…for quarry of a fungal sort. And with good reason! Many folks who are too busy to set foot in a woodland at any other time of the year are right now heading out into the wilds of North America to pursue the prized morel mushrooms.

Although tricky to find (their drab coloration blends in very well with the shades of brown on the early spring forest floor), morels are probably voted #1 on the tastiness scale by mushroom hunters and gastronomes, alike. Plus, along with their springtime brethren (wild ramps and wild asparagus), they form a “holy trinity” that is the basis for some of the most amazingly tasty food that can be foraged at any time during the year. But how does one know where to look…and what to look for? And how can you be sure you’re about to pick an edible mushroom and not merely a poisonous lookalike?

We mycologists are glad to see an increase in curiosity about wild mushrooms; nevertheless, mushroom poisonings continue to occur as many amateurs are unable to properly identify safe edible types. A beginner should try to find a veteran mushroomer to accompany during your first morel forays. An experienced morel hunter will take you into the woods at the right time, which varies depending on where you live but usually occurs from early April to the first of June for much of the upper range of North America. Also, a seasoned morel hunter will know where to look. In a good year, it’s true that morels can occur just about anywhere. But you will always have much better luck searching the most favorable habitats: around old, dying, or recently dead American elm and white ash trees, in the Midwest; very old apple orchards are good bet anywhere east of the Rockies; and burned forests in the western mountainous zones.

Morels occur very early in spring when few other types of mushrooms are up, lessening your chances to pick something dangerous. However, the false morels are also fruiting at this time, and as their name implies, they (arguably) look similar to true morels. And they are poisonous. Foray sensibly! While small, there is a real chance of finding and consuming poisonous mushrooms. Never take a chance on eating a mushroom that you’re not absolutely certain of: when in doubt, throw it out!

And what of those poisonous false morels? Well, I do want to emphasize that they are poisonous. That being said, the false morels have long been collected and consumed by mushroom foragers. (In fact, I’ve eaten them. In the past. I have not done so for a long time and don’t plan to consume them anymore, now that I know a lot more about the hazards.) False morels go by other, less sinister names like beefsteak morels. It seems that with lots of cooking, the toxic compounds (called “gyromitrins”) may be volatilized and driven from the mushroom, rendering them safe-ish for consumption. In his book Morels, Michael Kuo points out that people are poisoned every year by consuming false morels and that deaths have occurred. Again, I strongly recommend avoiding them.

How can you tell a false morel from a true morel? It’s actually pretty easy, as they don’t look that similar (see photo). True morels range in color from various shades of light brown to tan to almost white, and are gray when they first emerge; there are very dark brown to black species as well. False morels are typically reddish. And morels are very characteristically deeply pitted in appearance, reminiscent of a natural bath sponge; false morels have no pits but are more wavy or brain-like in appearance. And the final way to tell the difference is by slicing in half (which you will want to do in the kitchen prior to cooking, as bugs and millipedes like to hang out inside morels on occasion). Morels are always completely hollow from bottom to top. False morels never are; they may have hollow parts but not entirely.