Coltsfoot and carnage

AnemoneProjectors; Colt's-foot Tussilago farfara

I finally got outside for a walk yesterday! I wanted to investigate a patch where I vaguely remember seeing what I thought was coltsfoot Tussilago farfara leaves growing. It's one of the earliest flowering plants to appear, and fairly easy to spot looking kind of like a flattened dandelion. The bright yellow flowers come anytime from February onwards, well before the leaves. The leaves are where the plant gets its common name, but they are more heart shaped than hoof shaped! I remember my aunt telling me fairy stories using a coltsfoot leaf, rubbing off the cottony coating to reveal a shiny 'fairy mirror' - does anyone else remember something similar?

 The plant is a good source of medicines to ease coughs, bronchial problems and boils, and doesn't taste too bad either. You might have had coltsfoot rock, or even tried a herbal cigarette containing the leaves, and I wanted to try them as a soothing tea. However, it was not to be. There was nothing at the location to suggest a blooming of bronchial balms in the immediate future, but I will keep checking back.

It looks like a wasteland

Instead I kept walking my old route along the fields behind the house. I knew it was happening, but seeing one of my favourite foraging spots - a scrubland covered with oak trees, blackthorn and crab apple trees - ravaged by the preparations for a new housing estate was quite hard. All of the trees have been cut down, and there are scars left by the tracks of heavy plant machinery. Standing by a venerable old oak at what used to be the start of the path through, staring through the fencing at this 'progress', I was struck by the carnage, the constant noise, the bangs, and beeps, and how overlaying it all was rustling of last years leaves on the oak tree, whispering like the memory of voices of everyone who has passed this way, the children who had played on the rope swings held up by its sturdy branches; even the contractors who a couple of weeks ago had spent an hour climbing the tree, demonstrating their gymnastic abilities. I'm so glad they didn't take this one.

Maybe the children who move in to these new houses will also climb this tree, and listen to the remaining hedgerows alive with birdsong. Maybe they will strike out into the fields on wild adventures to look for blackberries, and try knocking down apples with sticks. With another large development looming on the other side of the village, I just hope there's somewhere left for them to go.

*Just a note; coltsfoot does contain pyrrolizidine alkaloids in small doses. It's thought that taking coltsfoot for short periods of time (i.e. the length of a cold) is unlikely to cause any problems, but do your own research and check with your health practitioner before eating anything new! See my disclaimer.

If you go down to the park today...

The lovely ladies (and accompanying gentleman) of Buns & Roses WI

Last Thursday I ventured up to darkest Leeds, put on my trusty foraging hat, and led a few members of Buns and Roses WI around Roundhay Park for guided walk and talk about wild food.

After a grey day, the sun made an appearance just in time for our evening stroll around Roundhay Park, a gorgeous site which is one of the largest municipal parks in Europe (as my legs pointed out afterwards)! We started at the Tropical World entrance, then made our way down to and around the lake and back (my pedometer assures me the round trip is more than the minimum recommended 10,000 steps a day).

 Photo credit Emma Briggs

The crew soon got used to my verbal shorthand - 'an acquired taste' usually means I've tried it and don't like it. It didn't take long before another theme emerged. You see, I learned most of my foraging because I like making (and drinking) what are referred to as 'country' wines. So yes, most of the edibles I pointed out can also be used to make a very decent wine;  I'm not so sure Wild Garlic flower wine is a good idea, but may give a small batch a go anyway - for SCIENCE!

I was originally worried that a managed parkland location might not have much for the forager, but I needn't have worried - there were plenty of goodies to point out and talk about. Although many of the hedgerow species I am used to down here were missing, this was more than made up for by some magnificent mature trees, including a pair of walnut trees which I expect the ladies to make the most of! Other useful tree species in the park include lime, cherry, beech and oak; if you've never tasted oak leaf wine then I urge you to do so. 

Wine and wild garlic in the woods. Photo credit Emma Briggs.

We also found the ever present nettles, brambles, chickweed, cleavers and dandelions, but also garlic mustard, wild garlic, common sorrel,  and raspberries (flowering but not yet fruiting) - the park definitely holds the makings of a decent meal. We paused a couple of times for examples of the fruits of foraging; one stop to taste wild garlic pesto, which went down quite nicely, and another to taste last year's blackberry wine. It's lovely, with a fruity bouquet and a kick like a donkey good depth of flavour. I gave everyone a couple of wild garlic recipes to try and promised to hand over my recipe for the blackberry wine, so although it's a bit early in the winemaking year, it's at the end of today's blog.

Finally I'd like to thank Buns and Roses for being so welcoming, and asking such interesting questions! It was a real pleasure to be able to pass on some of what I've learned, and I hope that you will all continue to keep an eye out for wild food; remember, what has been seen cannot be unseen!

Recipe:  Blackberry Wine

Ingredients

4lb blackberries
3lb Sugar
Optional - cup of strong black tea, raisins and juice of half a lemon.
6 pints of water (just boiled)
Yeast (you can buy a sachet of wine yeast from many chemists, I often just use bread yeast)

Method

1. Put berries in a bucket, and crush them (a potato masher is ideal for this). Add the optional ingredients if you like at this stage.
2. Pour on the hot water. (If you want to add the yeast at this stage you can, but wait until the liquid has cooled to blood temperature).
3. Keep covered to prevent flies getting in. I use a clean tea towel if I don't have a lid.
4. Stir up once every day for 4-5 days 
5. Strain off juice and add the sugar (and yeast if not done in step 2).
6. Pour mix into a demijohn or jar with an airlock, top up to base of neck with cool boiled water if necessary.  Put somewhere dark, and warm if possible  - airing cupboard is ideal but you may want to wait until the fermentation has slowed down as it can bubble over!
7. Within a day or two it should be bubbling away. Ignore it until it stops bubbling. This can be anywhere from weeks to months. Patience is a virtue!
8. Siphon off into another demijohn to leave the sediment in the bottom of the fermenting vessel. You can taste at this stage if it's ready for drinking yet, and see if it's clear. If not, put an airlock on and leave it for another few months. If it is, bottle it into clean sterilised bottles and label - unless you want wine surprise!

Hawthorn and Hedgerows

Hedgerows make me happy.

Not just as part of a patchwork landscape, but in the way they are used to define borders, in our gardens and parks. In our cities hedges do a great job of softening hard landscape, muffling urban noise, reducing pollution and providing a home to all those birds I hear singing on my way to the office.

At this time of year, hawthorn blossom - known as May - is blooming, and brambles are putting out new shoots; a promise of hedgerow harvests in the autumn. New growth is beginning to cover bare branches, and birds are taking advantage of the cover and starting to nest. 

Photo credit Colin McEwan CC BY 2.0

Hedgerows provide an invaluable service to our biodiversity, and are an essential habitat for many plants and animals; this includes 130 Biodiversity Action Plan species. They provide a living highway for many creatures, butterflies, birds, bats and hedgehogs to name a few; over half of our mammal species use hedgerows.

They also provide what are known as ecosystem services; services that nature provides which would have a real impact on our economy if we had to pay for them. These include pest control, preventing soil erosion, regulating flood water, carbon storage and reducing air pollution including dangerous particulate matter.

A hedge can be hundreds of years old and contain many different tree species. Sadly many were ripped up post-war to make way for agriculture and building. More than half of the remainder are in poor condition, due to pesticide use and neglect. Many are brutally cut at the top and sides, but left unmanaged at the base leading to large gaps as the trees grow. The ancient craft of hedgelaying  prevents this problem by laying down the hedge to create a living barrier with no gap at the bottom, that will not only prevent livestock getting through but also last for up to 50 years before it needs doing again!

Look after the wildlife in your own hedges by avoiding pesticides and not trimming in nesting season. Planting native hedge species in your garden will encourage wildlife; the addition of some blackthorn or dog rose can provide painful deterrent to intruders! Looking after a hedge like that can be its own reward, as you toast the fruits of your labour with a sloe G&T while you watch the butterflies and bees dancing around your greenery.

A version of this was article was first printed in Sheffield Star 23/5/2016 and can be viewed on line at
 http://www.southyorkshiretimes.co.uk/news/today-s-columnist-claire-hanley-opik-a-bustle-in-your-hedgerow-1-7925985

Spring smells funny...

Huzzah! Spring has sprung (despite the snow) and foraging is creeping back to the forefront of my mind.

I'm off to Leeds today to see what may be available to point out to the lovely ladies of Buns and Roses WI when I give them a walk and talk next month, and I'm really hoping to find some wild garlic (ransoms).

With that in mind, here's something I wrote on the subject (first published in my column for Sheffield Wildlife Trust in the Sheffield Star), along with a rough guide (it's really not organised enough to call it a recipe) to making your own wild garlic pesto.

Enjoy!

‘Spring smells funny...’

I love foraging. Partially because of blackberry crumble, but mostly as a frugal opportunist who hates waste.

I can’t help myself. I started as a child picking berries, but grew to include anything I could make alcohol with (sloes, crab apples, plums). The thing about looking for fruit trees is that you soon want to find more; I was once told you only pass on the location of a damson tree in your will! This means you walk through the countryside craning your neck, checking branches for telltale spikes indicating sharp sloes to come, or blossom that may mean hidden fruit later on.

So for half the year it’s easy to get in your recommended exercise quotient, as you peek through hedgerows and wander round parks. You can’t help but notice the nature on your doorstep as you become familiar with the foliage around you. The problem for foragers is that most fruit comes into season around the same time of year – late summer. What are you supposed to do for the rest of the year? Well this is the best time of year to go and find some of the early greens for soup and salads, like young nettle tips or my favourite, wild garlic. 

Wild Garlic. Photo copyright Don Sutherland

Walk along any wooded river bank, and you may start to notice a pungent smell emanating from underfoot. Looking down, you might see clusters of long green leaves with a pompom of white flowers delicately balanced on a single stem. Early in the season, there might not be any flowers to help identify the plant (also known as ransoms), and the leaves could be confused for those of the bluebell, but crush a piece of leaf between your fingers and you will be left in no doubt. 

The taste is mild; leaves and flowers can both be eaten raw in a salad. My favourite way to use this spring bounty is in a pesto. Simply take a handful of wild garlic leaves, a pinch of rock salt, a handful each of walnuts and parmesan, then crush (or blend) into a paste and add enough olive oil to loosen the mixture. It obviously goes well with pasta, but try mixing it with mayonnaise to liven up a sandwich; a great excuse to eat your lunch outdoors!

And remember; forage responsibly; take only a small amount, leave plenty for the wildlife that depends on it, and never eat something you are not certain of!

• This is a version of an article first published in the Sheffield Star, which can be found online at http://www.thestar.co.uk/news/today-s-columnist-claire-hanley-opik-nature-s-bounty-is-delicious-and-free-1-7869460

Signs and Portents

Spring often feels like a good time for looking forward and contemplating what the year ahead may hold. Even if it doesn’t much feel like spring at the moment, the beginning of February has long been a time of foretelling and forecasting.

You may have heard of the American tradition of Groundhog Day. On February 2nd each year, the state of the weather when the groundhog emerges from its burrow is used to predict the coming of spring. If it’s cloudy, it is believed that Spring will come early, but if it is bright then the groundhog will see his shadow and turn back into his burrow. This means there are still six more weeks of winter weather to come!

This is echoed in many old British sayings around Candlemas,  celebrations which take place around 2nd February (like Easter, it is a moveable feast). Although the wording may be different depending upon location in the UK, they all run along the same lines; ‘If Candlemas Day is clear and bright, winter will have another bite.  If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain, winter is gone and will not come again.

However, these weather forecasts are believed to have their roots in much older practices. Certain dates have been important to mankind since farming began. The alignment of megalithic structures shows these dates have been important to man since at least Neolithic times (around 5000 years ago).  One of them is Imbolc, the 1st of February.

The summer and winter solstices, and spring and autumn equinoxes divided the year into 4 equal parts - dates close to these events became known as Quarter days.  Important dates midway between two Quarter days became known as Cross quarter days. These coincide with the four Celtic fire festivals (Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasa, and Samhain) and important points in the agricultural calendar.

Imbolc marks the point in the year when the first signs of spring appear, promising that the hold of winter will be broken and the the wheel of the seasons will continue to turn. Customarily connected with the start of the lambing season, the origin of word is thought to derive from either the  Old Irish for ‘in the belly’, signalling the pregnancy of the ewes, or possibly the Old Irish for ewes milk.

Imbolc is traditionally a time of weather divination for the year ahead. For example, it was believed that Imbolc was the time of year when the Cailleach,  a Gaelic goddess also known as Beira, Queen of Winter would go out and gather firewood for the remainder of the winter. If she wished the winter to last a long time, then she would ensure the day was bright and sunny so that she could collect a large amount of wood to keep her warm. On the other hand if the weather is awful, it means she has fallen asleep. She cannot then gather wood to keep her warm, so she will keep the winter short.

An old Gaelic poem has it that “As far as the wind shall enter the door, On the Feast Day of Bride (1st February), The snow shall enter the door, On the Feast Day of Patrick (17th March). So according to prophecy, if it’s sunny, warm and windy on the first of February, we’re in for a few more weeks of winter!

What to look out for:

Days start to noticeably lengthen, and lambs and calves are being born. You can see the beginnings of new growth in the form of snowdrops and leaf bud - although with the mild winter we’ve just had you may have been seeing these things since last year!

You don't have to be a pagan to get a close association with the natural world, but why not get closer to nature and see what signs of spring you can spot at one of your local nature reserves? 

I first wrote this article for Sheffield and Rotherham Wildlife Trust, and it's published here by their kind permission. It's only right I give them a plug! They hold lots of events for all age groups and abilities throughout the year. Visit www.wildsheffield.com/whats-on for more details or call them on 0114 263 4335 to find out more.

I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you

I neglected to mention that last week we found a couple of damson trees. They were hiding in plain sight along the main road in Gran's village. Apparently you should never tell anyone where your damson trees are!

Damsons are such a good fruit, they were known as the housewives friend - apparently for their magical setting qualities. I thought this couldn't be right, given that they are effectively just small plums, but making a jam with them on Tuesday proved me wrong and my old books right! Just a few minutes boiling and the setting point was reached, without adding any lemon juice or pectin.

Damson jam (not quite ready)

I only made three jars of jam because I really fancied using the rest of the damsons for wine. It comes out such a lovely colour, and I was still smarting about the loss of a gallon of last years damson wine to the vinegar fly. If I'd been thinking straight at the time I'd have bottled it as posh vinegar! I didn't have the full 4lb of damsons (because of the jam) but I topped it up with some of the plums that were handily growing a few shrubs down, and a few bullace I found along the route. I reckon it won't make much difference, but I look forward to the testing next year!

Cowabungababy

I have not been foraging today. I had a lot of work to do that required me sitting in front of a screen. It's not all bad though. I do get this view from my office:

I'm not sure if you can see clearly (it was just taken with my phone through a window), but the cow in the front left foreground is suckling a calf!

There's another one in the herd (not pictured) that looks close to giving birth too, so I'll be keeping an eye on her over the coming weeks. I'm just glad they can't get to the apple tree on the far field; I have plans for the windfalls from that tree this weekend (I do likes me scrumpy)!