Fennel, Fennel Everywhere
Abundant sweet anise flavor.
“Note: we’re currently gathering samples in the most industrial soils we can find to measure potential toxins - if the plant tissues from these soils haven’t accumulated toxins, pretty much any urban soil will be safe. More on that later! ”
Whether you've been looking for it or not, you likely come across wild fennel, or Foeniculum vulgare, quitefrequently. On a recent sample gathering in West Oakland, I was once again struck by just how rampantly wild fennel grows. Asphalt, cement, roadsides, or parking lots, wild fennel survives and thrives everywhere.
Feathery leaves of wild fennel fronds.
Foraging wild fennel in a North Oakland median.
A member of the same family as carrot, parsley, and dill, fennel has thin feathery leaves that connect to a larger stem. The plants can grow very tall and may have delicate yellow flowers. On foraging walks, I always get very hopefully asked about how to harvest the fennel bulb, but alas, wild fennel does not have a large bulb as you find with conventional fennel. Fortunately, the leaves are incredibly abundant and flavorful, as are the stalks, and flowers, pollen, and seeds in season. Fennel often grows alongside poison hemlock, which is in the same family, but has leaves more like carrot tops and purple splotches on the stems. If you are unsure if what you have is fennel, give it a smell - the smell will undeniably tell you if you have fennel. You can find fennel primarily in the spring through early fall, though I have seen it at all times of the year, and the flowers and pollen can be found in the summer.
Although you probably wouldn't want to make an entire salad of fennel, the sweet anise and licorice flavor works great as a garnish. Try it in sauces, on fish or chicken, in soups, in omelettes, desserts, and as a salad component. The pollen is lovely as a tasty condiment and the seeds are a digestive aid.
When in doubt - smell the plant and if it's fennel, it will definitely smell like fennel.
The below is NOT FENNEL, but POISON HEMLOCK. Note the carrot-like leafy tops and purple splotches on the stem. The poison hemlock flowers are similar to fennel so be sure you carefully determine what you're picking and identify the fennel by the feathery, thin leaves and smell.
Photo credit: http://www.kingcounty.gov/
Wild Chamomile: Tasting Between the Cracks
Matricaria discoidea.
Wild chamomile aka pineapple weed is easily uprooted from the ground.
In a way, I was foraging before I even knew what it meant. The schoolyard of my childhood did not have much grass. Okay, it didn't have any grass at all. When we weren't scraping our knees on the pavement playing football or foursquare, we were investigating whatever we could find poking out from the cracks in the pavement. I specifically remember a "game" we had with one weed in particular: Matricaria discoidea, or "pineapple weed" or “wild chamomile”.
“Luckily, there wasn’t any poison hemlock growing from the cracks, though something tells me our intuition would keep us away from it. ”
The game went like this: I would instruct a schoolmate to envision any fruit of their choosing, then would have them smell the pineapple weed flower as I crushed it under their nose and voilà!, smell like that fruit it would. Sometimes I would also take a taste of the (strawberry, cantaloupe, grape, orange...) smelling fruit and, to my surprise, it also tasted like that fruit. Now, I'm not condoning tasting something that you have not identified, but it's fun to think that even young children can find food in a desolate landscape.
“Between its unique look and distinct, fragrant aroma it is pretty easy to identify and can be found in the spring/summer in gardens, on trails and yes, even in cracks in the sidewalk.”
Like chamomile, wild chamomile can be dried and made into a tea and is in the Asteraceae family, which is the same family as daisy, dandelion, and thistles. It grows low to the ground, has thin, feathery, branching leaves and small yellow cone-shaped flowers that resemble a tiny pineapple.
Abundant pineapple weed at the Peralta Community Garden - the members had no problem with my taking as much as I wanted.
Harvested wild chamomile.
On a recent visit to the Peralta Community Garden in North Berkeley for a wild food talk there was massive amounts of pineapple weed that the gardeners gladly let me pillage. I turned my bounty into a stock of wild chamomile simple syrup that is great in cocktails, lemonade, or for drizzling on pancakes. Other uses include scattering on salads, fish, chicken, or fruit tarts. I may have originally "discovered" this weed in childhood, but it's great to come back to it as an adult!
Herbed Spaghetti Carbonara
Rich simplicity at its finest bolsted with aromatics.
I've thought about making spaghetti carbonara several times, ever since I was introduced to it in a Ruth Reichl book, but I never did until faced with a nearly empty refrigerator (that fortunately did happen to have very good quality bacon). The rustic simplicity of the dish was always intriguing, but the shear absence of vegetables and color in a main course turned me off. I have to say that when I did finally make I was not disappointed - by tossing in fresh aromatic herbs a pleasant brightness was achieved that balanced the bacon, egg, and garlic.
The coolest thing about spaghetti carbonara is the fact that you cook the egg by tossing them with the freshly cooked pasta. Egg proteins are very sensitive and even just that small amount of heat is enough to denature and partially coagulate them - in other words, the raw egg starts to thicken as the proteins unwind and join back up. This creates a lovely silkiness akin to a fancy sauce only using egg. This is a great recipe to have in your arsenal for when you don't have time and aim to please. Below recipe serves 2-3 and is adapted from Ruth Reichl's recipe.
“As the ingredients are minimal, fresh pasta is really the way to go if you can, but it is not necessary. ”
1 pound of spaghetti or angel hair pasta, preferably fresh
1/4 pound thickly sliced good quality bacon, about 3 thick strips (I got mine from The Local Butcher Shop in North Berkeley and it made a huge difference)
2 cloves garlic, peeled and halved
2 large eggs
1/8 teaspoon (or a few grindings of) black pepper
1-2 handfuls of plucked fresh herbs such as oregano, thyme, and marjoram
Grated parmesan cheese, to top pasta
Bring a large pot of water to a boil for the pasta. If making fresh pasta, complete the below steps before cooking the pasta and if using dried pasta, complete the below steps while the pasta is cooking.
Cut the bacon into thick pieces, about 1/2-inch wide. Cook on medium-high in a skilled until fat begins to render, about 2 minutes. Add the garlic and cook another 5 minutes, until edges of bacon become crisp.
Break the eggs into the bowl you are going to serve the pasta in. Add black pepper and beat with a fork.
Once pasta is cooked (1-2 minutes for fresh, 8-10 minutes for dried), drain and mix with the eggs. Add the bacon and garlic mixture with about one-half of its fat (or more if preferred) along with the fresh herbs and toss into pasta. Serve with grated parmesan and more black pepper if desired.
Foraged Herbes de Provence
Sometimes, a blend of herbs is used so often that it is considered its own flavor. Herbes de Provence is such a mixture, typically including dried rosemary, lavender, and thyme, but it may also have other herbs common in the south of France such as oregano or marjoram.
What was the impetus for this combination and why do the flavors combine so well? Likely, not much thought went into what is now classic, but rather it was a “use what you have” scenario. One theory for successfully combining ingredients is that if ingredients share flavor compounds, which the Herbes de Provence ingredients, they will compliment each other. Although this hypothesis makes sense and is somewhat calming, as it gives us a succinct way to understand flavor combinations, it only really works in Western cuisine. In Eastern Asian cuisine on the other hand, recipes frequently avoid overlapping flavor compounds. The scientist in my wishes the theory was consistent for all foods, but the artist in me is inspired by the fact that opposites can attract.
This is more of a guide than a recipe, as it can be adapted to suit your needs and ingredient availability. We foraged our herbs on a hike in France, but that doesn’t mean you can't forage or purchase the same herbs from the U.S.! I highly recommended drying the herbs yourself, as dried herbs are often sitting on the shelf for very long periods of time and can be flavorless.
3 parts fresh rosemary, on the stem
3 parts fresh thyme, on the stem
1 part lavender, on the stem
Other Provençal herbs, as desired (marjoram, oregano, savory, etc.)
Allow herbs to dry by setting them apart from each other near sunlight and/or fresh air for 2-3 days. This may take longer if in a humid and/or cold climate.
Once herbs are completely dry, remove leaves from stems by running finger down spine into a bowl.
Crush herbs using a food processor or mortar and pestle to desired texture. I prefer herbs to be well, but not finely, crushed. Enjoy for up to a year.
Suggested uses: Herb-rolled chèvre (fresh or hot as in Chèvre Chaud salad), meat-rub, in olive oil for bread dipping, topping grilled vegetables.
Cauliflower Flatbread
Herbal cruciferous goodness.
Trade in refined carbohydrates for a boost of antioxidants and fiber with this versatile side dish that can also be used as a pizza crust. Serves 4 as an appetizer.
3 cups cauliflower (about 1 medium head)
2 teaspoons olive oil, plus more for greasing baking sheet
1/2 cup shallot, minced (about 2 bulbs)
2 eggs
3/4 cup grated soft cheese, such as mozzarella or gouda
Herbs: 1 teaspoon dried herbs or 1/2 cup fresh minced herbs (or a combination of fresh and dried herbs such as thyme, rosemary, tarragon, chervil, basil, oregano)
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Fresh basil is the perfect accompaniment.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Steam cauliflower until soft (about 5 minutes) and drain completely. By hand or Using a fork, food processor or immersion blender, mince cauliflower until you have achieved a crumbly texture.
Cook shallot in 2 teaspoons of olive oil over medium heat until soft, about 3-4 minutes. Add shallot to cauliflower mix.
Stir 1/2 cup of the cheese and all of the herbs, salt, and pepper into the cauliflower mixture. Add eggs and mix in until a batter has formed.
Spread dough into a rectangle, about 1/4- to 1/2-inch thick, on top of a greased baking sheet and bake for 10-12 minutes or until set.
Turn oven to broil, scatter remaining cheese over top of cooked cauliflower bread and broil another 1-2 minutes, until golden brown. Allow bread to cool slightly, slice, and serve. Goes well with a dipping sauce such as romesco, marinara, or pesto.