"wildedibles" news and stories

For reasons I've yet to understand (perhaps in recompense for my obsessive heirloom veggie gardening), the food fates smiled upon me today. I reached into the crisper drawer for a bunch of scallions, and instead drew out (gasp!) ramps -- still viable, even though my last foraging adventure was several weeks ago, and ramp season is gone, daddy gone. They weren't 100% cook 'em up and eat 'em with nothing else fresh, though, so I hedged my bets and went with a fave of mine -- ramp pesto. Should you not be similarly gifted by the veggie gods, garlic scapes work well, too.

I love showing this common weed to people. Pineapple weed is related to chamomile, which it resembles, except it looks like someone removed all of the petals from the flowers. I'm sure many of you have seen this plant because it grows in some of the worst soil, sometimes appearing in gravel or growing out of the cracks in pavement. Try to avoid the ones on very busy highways or near industry.

The best feature of pineapple weed is also the best method of identification. Pick off a small piece of the plant, with flowers attached and crush it in your fingers. It actually does smell like pineapple! Collect some of the flower heads, bring them home, and wash in a strainer. These can be used fresh, or to preserve them just air dry in a warm place, or quick dry in a warm (180 degrees F) oven for a couple of hours. Some people like to use the whole plant, but it can add a slight bitterness to the final product.

Steep 2 teaspoons of flower heads, or one whole small plant in hot water for 10 minutes and strain. Sweeten with honey if desired, and enjoy. I would imagine that it has similar properties to that of chamomile since it is closely related. If you really like pineapple weed tea, you can try to collect some of the seeds from the older matured flowers and grow them yourself. Careful though, as it is a weed and tends to spread easily. Remove the flowers before they drop their seeds, and reserve a few for the next planting.

Our colleague Neil Goldstein works up a powerful hunger while he's trekking through the wilds of Upstate New York. Follow him as he forages for wild edibles.


I don't know how old I was when I started having a fascination with wild foods, but I can point to a few family activities that sparked it. As far back as I remember we used to go pick apples every year at an orchard near Stone Ridge, New York. Always fun, except of course for the inevitable case of poison ivy that followed a few days later. The apples weren't wild, but still the idea of picking something from a tree, and eating it right there got to me.

Another major influence were the wild strawberries and blueberries we picked as kids. The strawberries grew near our home in Woodstock.
There were several places where you could pick a dozen or two small wild strawberries quickly with little effort, but a short bike ride away was a meadow that my older brothers Lee and Paul called Sergeant's Field. You could pick a few quarts of the local delicacy there.