There is a reason these things are not part of our palate

Hello lovelies!

Well, having just spent wayyyy too much money at Lush, I think I shall earn a little keep with actually updating this with something interesting.  (Also, flog flog flog buy my story flog oh buy this too cuz its for a good cause FLOG.  Think of it as helping pay for some of my groceries, with a free story attached!)

So, on Sunday, I went foraging with some friends.  It was really ridiculously fun, with the three of us setting out and going tramping through the countryside (well, close enough to the countryside) to look for edible plants.  The tail end of the Hungry Gap is probably not the best time to do this, but we actually got a pretty good bounty.  Well, volume-wise.

(Writing link: someday, your characters may need to forage for food.  Poor, poor bastards.)

After agreeing that lime leaves tasted exactly as you’d think they would (that is, like leaves), we left with a lovely walk behind us, bamboo to support runner beans, wild garlic, dandelions, chickweed, cuckoo flower, and something else that I totally forgot the name of.  Whups.  (And technically nettles, but I elected to skip those little delights, having already had a brush with one and good God, they hurt.)

We repaired back to my friend’s house to try dandelion fritters first, made by dipping the flower in pancake batter, frying, and covering in honey to eat.  Let me tell you, there is a reason why we don’t cultivate dandelions.  With the green part, they tasted…green, really.  A bit bitter, though the honey helped.  When we just added the petals, it was very pretty, and tasted like nothing at all.  Apparently dandelions are good for wine, roughage, and not much else.

Oh well!  onward!  I made the chickweed last night, figuring that boiling it for awhile in salty water would a) make Mrs Beeton really proud and b) cook it enough to get an idea of if I should add pepper, hot sauce, whatever.  I snuck a nibble before it went in the pot, and it tasted exactly like sour death.  After about ten minutes of boiling, I nibbled a little bit more, and it initially tasted like grass, before going on to taste like sour death.  Well, it can go in the compost pile, at least.

On the plus side, the wild garlic was delicious, and I’ve been sprinkling the flowers on everything I eat for the past few days.  So at least it’s not a total loss!

I shall now go fix a pizza for lunch, because no one is perfect, the end 🙂


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