As a newly converted wild food enthusiast and a keen forager, I frequently find myself in some very strange and precarious positions. It’s not uncommon to find me perched a-top a chestnut tree, being speared in unmentionable places, whilst looting for food; or grappling with brambles for blackberries, and emerging looking like an unfortunate victim of stigmata. Great fun, if slightly perilous, but I swear it all adds to the enjoyment of the food.
It’s exactly this type of exploit which is earning me a (probably deserved) reputation for being a slightly eccentric newcomer to the village. In Berrynarbor, the home of eccentrics, that’s quite an achievement! My partner Sean is regularly accosted by locals commenting “Saw your Missus climbing trees and collecting things again, what does she do with them?” I do sometimes wonder if they picture me in my kitchen, making an exotic, white witch type of concoction out of my haul; this could of course explain why no local children knock on my door for treats at Halloween…The truth however is much more tame; it’s more likely to be for a batch of delicious country wine, or an unusual summer salad.
Over the last month, I have been making elderflower wine with a fervour that’s bordering on obsession. Our lovely old elder tree in the garden excelled itself this year, and produced so much blossom that I can barely keep up with the production line of bubbling demi-jars. To me, elderflower wine is one of the finest English country wines you can make; sweet, golden and tasting of delicious summer goodness. It’s incredibly easy to make. One of the best recipes I have found is in the Wild Food book by Roger Phillips, which has quite literally become my bible since moving here. I’m hoping to try my hand at some elderflower ale whilst the glut of flowers is still in profusion, and continue to improve upon the ales we made last year (tasty, but immensely strong with a tendency for amnesia inducing effects; ideal when passing off unfortunate pub karaoke disasters you’d rather forget).
Other goodies in the wild larder in June have included wild garlic bulbs, which I have collected now that the lovely aromatic leaves have died back. These can be stored in olive oil and jarred, where they will happily last through the lean winter months. If you’re lucky enough to have your own herb garden you could even flavour them with a sprig of rosemary popped into the jar. This year I have also noticed wild cherries which seem to have ripened early in the fantastic sunshine we’ve been enjoying. I’ve been eyeing these with a view to a batch of lovely wild cherry brandy to steep for Christmas. I’m counting on this increasing my popularity with the neighbours tenfold!
Our little vegetable garden is literally bursting at the seams with oak-leaf lettuce, spinach and rocket. It’s our first year of vegetable growing in the South West, and therefore a huge learning experience, as the terrain is completely different to our garden back in London. We’ve taken on board lots of local advice from keen gardeners and farmers, and actually had quite an impressive success for novices. Our neighbourly vegetable growing ‘guru’, Derek, has been an inspiration this year, supplying curly kale seeds, and issuing colloquial advice; “First of June, not too late not too soon…” He has also been the main supplier of our seasonal treats both foraged and cultivated; and often wanders over to chat, whilst rummaging in his pocket for hazelnuts or freshly picked peas he’s bought for us to try. Being a game kind of girl, I’m always willing to give new food a try, even if it has just been recovered from an aging gentleman’s front pocket! I did say that life in the country was different…
If I were to leave you with any sage words to ponder on, they would be: get out and discover what the wild larder in the UK has to offer, it’s the perfect time to do so…who knows, you may discover it’s a small lifestyle change you’ll grow to love!
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