Spring foraging

Pic 1
• Wild sorrel

Pic 2
• Ramsons
• Garlic mustard (Jack-by-the-hedge)
• Wild sorrel
• Wild mint
• Vetch shoots

Mussels steamed in cider with hop shoots

This is our first spring in the new house. The garden cautiously brushes colour onto the bare branches and weather-beaten soil; previously concealed Primroses, Crab apple blossom and Sweet violets emerge in a gentle April flourish. Part of the joy of being new to the area is discovering what the nearby hedgerows have to offer; this morning Amelie and I found an expanse of hop shoots growing just yards from our front door; hence their inclusion in this quick mussel recipe...

1.5kg Fresh mussels, rinsed and de-bearded
A good handful of fresh Hop shoots
2 Banana shallots, finely chopped
A wine glass of dry cider
Olive oil
Finely chopped Ramsons to serve (optional)

In a large pan, soften the shallots in a little olive oil for about five minutes, then stir in the hop shoots for a further three. Tip in the mussels, pour over the cider and then pop the lid on the pan. Cook for about six minutes, until all of the mussels have opened. Serve with a sprinkle of finely chopped Ramsons and crusty bread.

Forager's cookcard #3: Sea beet

It's widely thought that all of our domesticated Beetroot varieties were originally cultivated from Sea beet. There's a familiar, beetroot note to the raw leaves, which narrow to a spear headed point in much the same way as its garden-dwelling cousin. As the name would suggest, it almost exclusively favours the coast; I've found it in abundance from the beaches of Devon to the furthest reaches of Cornwall. 

Try cutting a large handful of leaves into thin ribbons, sauteing them gently with a finely chopped onion in olive oil, before stirring in cooked orzo pasta and finely chopped Ramson leaves. Serve with grated Pecorino and a good grind of black pepper.

Rabbit, mushroom and ramson bulb pate

The Ramsons are so abundant along this riverbank during the spring; digging up a small handful of bulbs in the winter months won’t upset the balance in the slightest. A summer spent swelling gently in the soil leaves them plump and juicy - that garlic flavour is distinct as ever. If you'd prefer your pate to be really gamey just use rabbit; I like to tone down the strong flavour a touch though, so go 50/50 with chicken livers.

200g Rabbit livers

200g Chicken livers

100g Chestnut mushrooms, roughly torn

100g butter

3 bacon rashers, chopped

4 Large ramson bulbs

Fresh thyme leaves

Bay leaves

A splash of sherry

Salt and pepper

Fry the bacon in an oiled pan until crispy, then add the mushrooms to soften. Stir in the livers, brown for a few minutes (try not to cook them all the way through) then add the thyme, bay, chopped garlic and butter. Season, get a splash of sherry on the scene and stir through until the butter has melted. Spoon into a food processor, give it a brief blitz (I don’t like it too smooth), then spoon into ramekins. Create a seal with some clarified butter and a couple of bay leaves.

Ramson butter

Wild garlic

Every time I put this old coat on I forget that the lining in the right pocket's completely worn through. The story unfolds in a similar fashion each time - absence of small change, no oyster card, notes jotted on paper gone; to an observer the trail in my wake must look like a poor, Hansel and Gretel-inspired means of finding the way back home. Rage ensues, invariably vocal and with reference to "That bastard coat" - yet still, a year or so will pass, I'll see it on the hanger and think, "I haven't worn that in ages!".

There's spot by the Whitewater River that I head to each year when the Wild garlic is in full swing. Cross the old moss-covered bridge and a familiar garlicky hum drifts out of a small patch of woodland by the riverbank; closer inspection reveals clusters of green, ribbon-like leaves unravelling across the ground towards the water's edge. I parked the car by the roadside and made my way through the trees, basket in hand. Having gathered a few large bunches, cut cleanly at the base with a knife, I headed back to the car.

Could I find the (only set of) car keys? Reader, it took me twenty five minutes to find those bloody things in the woods, rifling frantically through the Ramsons as if foraging for some rare, key shaped truffle. I eventually found them, concealed from the eye by a heap of broken branches - by which point my nerves were shot to bits.

I like to keep things simple with wild garlic - last night I stirred a finely-chopped handful through a block of softened butter, wrapped it in foil, then rolled it into a cylinder shape. Kept in the fridge, a couple of pound coin-sized slices melting on a juicy steak are a thing of wonder. The coat is back on the coat rack, after a good bit of stitchwork.