The Locusts are Here (Robinia pseudoacacia)

Oh sweet joy! Black locust flowers--another reason for living. We so look forward to this plague of locusts.

Yesterday, as we drove home from a swimming and ice cream excursion, we saw them--lovely white clusters hanging from these magestic and stately trees. Last year, we nearly missed them altogether. A late frost prevented all the locusts in our area from blooming. We hoped this year would not be the same.

Locust flowers are among our top ten favorite wild edibles. They are impressively fragrant and their frangrance runs through to their flavor. They only bloom for a week right around June 1. As soon as you notice their lovely petals littering the ground, they are no longer delicious. So you have to find them early--just after they bloom. Their brevity makes them all the more precious--so we expect to gorge this week on snowy white plumes.

Yub Yub loves them! This afternoon she and her good friend ate them like grapes off their clusters. "Mama, I need more of those tasty flowers!"

I put them into a salad of blueberries and spring greens and covered them with a light vinegarette made with the red clover vinegar I made last June. Yum. I can't wait for breakfast.

Stinging Nettles that Don't Sting

Hot, steamy, overcast, and buggy--southern Vermont this week--other than the bugs, this weather is a welcome change from the long extended cold of the last several months. Yub Yub and I continue to collect sorrel, nettles, dandelion, and violets from our yard. Thag and I continue to lust for summer when we anticipate more time for foraging.

We seem to grow stinging nettles that don't sting! At first, I thought they were just low sting, but this week, I found a lovely new patch outside our house. Another patch of what seemed to be nettles grew in front of the ones I was certain were nettles. I have never been the plant ID person in our family. I tried. I found a few subtle differences, and I was fairly convinced that the "nettles" in front of the real nettles were not actually nettles. So, I touched them. No sting. I touched the real nettles. No sting. So much for a control.

When Thag got home from work, I asked for his assitance. I was right--the first plants were, the second plants weren't. I collected some of the real things to prepare a quiche. I really wanted to test their sting. I washed, snipped, and cut them with my bare hands. After about five full minutes of working with them, I had a slight tingle on the side of my left ring finger. Nothing else. I wasn't brave enough to try and eat them raw, but I wonder...

My father-in-law tells a story about his sister encountering stinging nettles and being swollen and in pain for a week. I know the degree of sting varies among location, but the lack of sting in our plants is kind of unbelieveable. But I am not complaining!

Sheep Sorrel--Rumex acetosella

We love sheep sorrel--sweet and sour! But (like so many greens), we wonder why, in our reading, its culinary capacities are so understated. We read that it is an herb, or that it is a nice trail side nibble, or, occasionally that one can cook it up in a little butter as a side dish. Well, I don't know about you, but we've never been a family to eat a pile of mushy cooked greens on their own. Spinach and chard go in things--not along side them.

And, even large amounts of greens cook down to a very small quantity. You could pick sheep sorrel all day and only have enough for two servings of a side dish. But, its flavor is so intense and wonderful, it can be the main flavor of a meal.

So, after our fantastic success with sheep sorrel soup, I decided I needed to create my own recipes. Today, Yub Yub and I picked sorrel under a sky pregnant with thunder clouds and then came inside to cook up a feast as the storm broke outside.

Sheep Sorrel and White Bean Pasta--5!

about 4 cups sheep sorrel, washed and spun dry

1/4 cup olive oil

1/2 onion, minced

1 clove garlic, minced

1 can (15 oz) cannellini beans, rinsed

12 ounces pasta (3/4 box)--we used rotini

parmesan

Cook pasta. Reserve 1 ladleful pasta water.

Heat olive oil in large skillet. Add onion--cook until translucent. Add garlic--cook one minute. Add sheep sorrel. Sprinkle with salt. Cook until sheep sorrel loses its lovely bright green color and turns an ugly brownish green--about 1 to 2 minutes.

Add beans. Add pasta water. Add pasta. Serve with parmesan. Delightful.