Nettles. (Photo from NorthernBushcraft.com)

I love foraging. I love the idea that there is all that food out there just free for the gathering. This is a perfect time of year for foraging, because a little bit later, many plants turn tough and bitter. Nettles and dandelions, for example.

So – for today’s wild feature: Nettle soup.

Those who read my blog know that I’m a freestyle cook who throws things together never the same way twice, depending on what is at hand. So here, more or less, is what I did:

Basically – take your favorite potato-leek soup idea and add nettles. How hard is that?

Ingredients: nettles, potatoes, a leek, a couple stalks of celery, soup stock (chicken would have been good, but I had some beef bone broth available), a handful of French sorrel, a little lemon juice, bacon (optional), garlic, salt & pepper, and kefir, yogurt, or sour cream to decorate the top. Don’t worry – you don’t have to have all of these – except the nettles, of course.

Here’s what to do:

1. Collect the nettles. Yes, first you have to pick the nettles and be reminded why their full name is “Stinging nettles.” Emphasis on sting. Wear gloves. I used to know someone who could take a handful of them and rub them on her face with no ill effects, but I have no desire to do something crazy like that to impress my friends with my daring stupidity. I have found, though, that if you pinch them directly on the leaf, no problem. It’s when you brush lightly past them that you break out in a rash, which is something I will remember the next time I decide to go running naked through the edge of a field. Just kidding, of course. Sort of. However you do it, get a bagful, because they cook down like spinach. Personally, I collected 2 bags, cutting them off at mid-stem so they would grow back – one for the soup and one for drying to make tea at a later time.
2. Cook potatoes: boil up 5 or 6, depending on how big a batch you’re making. Make this pan the one you want your final soup in.
3. Cook bacon: optional item – but we get this really good chemical-free bacon and if you’re a bacon fan, nothing more need be said. Drain it after cooking on a paper towel. Meatless friends, yes, the soup is good without it.
4. Sautee the leek & celery in a little fat of your choice: oil, butter, bacon fat. Slice them up first; make sure you get the dirt out of the leek. I use almost the entire leek up to near the end where it gets a little too tough.
5. Wash & cook the nettles. Mine were recently rain-washed, but I gave them another quick rinse just to make sure there were no bird droppings or bugs. Throw the nettles in a kettle with a little water & lightly simmer until limp – just a few minutes. Don’t bother cutting them up – just get them in there without hurting yourself. Boiling them takes away the sting.  Ok – it’s starting to look like you’re dirtying too many pans at this point. I admit, I really am a messy cook.
6. Blend up the vegetables: Put the celery & leek combo in a blender. Add a little of the nettle liquid to the pan they were cooked in so you get those flavors off the pan. Throw that in the blender too, along with the nettles, stems and all. Also throw in a handful of fresh French sorrel if you have it and blend some more. Sorrels are high in oxalic acid, but it is neutralized by heat. They add a little tang and a lot of Vitamin C.
7. Mash the potatoes. I used a separate immersion blender to buzz up the potatoes in their liquid, mainly because I didn’t have room in the blender – but it doesn’t really matter where you do it. The potatoes act as a thickener for the soup. Keep in mind you might want to add some soup stock later, so it doesn’t have to be super thin at this point.
8. Combine all the veggies: potatoes, nettles, celery, leek, sorrel – it should look very green.
9. Add some soup stock to thin it a bit: I am into making bone broths, so I added a cup of beef bone broth that was gelled solid with its natural gelatin. It’s extremely flavorful, full of minerals and vitamins, and melts in the heat. I often have a crockpot of bones simmering on the counter, so I usually have this handy. Chicken or vegetable would also be good.
10. Crumble in the bacon (if you’re using it):  Everything else is pureed, so this adds a little chew-factor. Give everything a stir.
11. Add a little lemon juice and salt & pepper: A tablespoon or so will brighten the flavors – and salt and pepper to taste, less if you added bacon. Mmmm, still needs a little something….
12. Garlic! Chop up about 3 or 4 cloves: (hope you still have some!) Chop finely and let it sit for a half minute or so to develop flavors; then toss it into the soup. Give it all a stir. The heat from the soup will cook it just enough and not too much.
13. Ladle into bowls and top with kefir, plain yogurt, or sour cream: I’ve been into making homemade kefir with the raw dairy milk from the Dungeness Valley Creamery down the road, so that’s what we used. We’re really fortunate to have a source of grass-fed cows and certified raw milk so close by! VERY much worth the extra price – this milk is a REAL food, and the nutrients are easily absorbed.
14. Serve. Amidst “oohs” and “ahhs”. Very fun. Cost was hardly anything. Nutrient ratio out the roof.

Nettle Soup - a few weeds, some potatoes, and a dolup of homemade kefir - mmm!

We had a lot of family over that night and some went back for seconds.

Caveat: Since making this, I have read that potato water shouldn’t be used because potatoes contain hemagglutinins that disrupt red blood cell function, and those go into the cooking water. What can I say – we all survived.

Nettles as a Superfood

Nettles are seriously good for you. They provide protein, vitamins C and A, carotenoids, potassium, iron, calcium, thiamine, riboflavin, and niacin. They’ve been used as a tonic and a diuretic, applied to stop bleeding in open wounds, and slapped on bald heads to stimulate hair follicles and new hair growth. They’re a good source of quercitin, a flavonoid that inhibits the release of histamine; hence, they’re effective in treating hay fever and other allergies. They’ve also been used to treat arthritis, gout, urinary tract infections (the diuretic flush effect), and prostate issues; they’ve also been used to purify the blood and to cleanse the liver and kidneys.

Wow. I really do think I should be eating nettles more often.

Plus, they are a whole lot like pot, only they won’t get you high and they are legal. Ok, so maybe they’re not like pot. But – like hemp – they can grow 7 feet tall and be used as a fiber. They are extremely strong. This is good news. I used to do a lot of spinning (mostly dog and llama hair) – and I am definitely going to give nettles a try. They grow so fast and are so prolific, they even show promise to be used in biofuels.

You learn a lot of things on the Internet. I used to really like nettles, but I love them now. So much, in fact, I’m thinking of turning them into pesto.

One site I read said how the authors love to wrap stinging nettles around them because it makes them feel so alive and tingly.

Um. Ok.

Thanks, but no thanks. I might have to draw the line with that one. I think sex sounds like a better option if you’re looking for those sensations, and a heck of a lot more fun. Just my opinion.

Anyway – before we get sidetracked – bring on the Spring! Take a walk on the wild side. Collect things along the way. Throw them in a soup. Don’t forget some of the domesticated garden plants that are also at their best at this time of year. Cardoon, French sorrel, and lovage all come to mind. Each are rather strong-flavored in their own way, but are so good added in small quantities to just about everything.

And DO give nettles a try!

Won’t be long and the morels will be ready. Oh yes! Can’t wait!

Here are a couple of good sources for identifying your weeds and wild edibles:

Northern Bushcraft 

Westside Gardener

Not a reflection - it's the corkscrew willow tree, reaching for the blue sky in winter

Helllooo February! What a stretch of great weather we’ve had! If the groundhog saw his shadow, it was only because he wasn’t facing the sun! You’d think he’d learn by now.

I admit, I am not sorry to kiss 2011 goodbye and begin anew, and I’m also not sorry to say goodbye to January. Granted, the winter garden is a beautiful place – but sunny days that are too cold to be outside for any length of time are pure torture. The winter can get long and dreary when we sit inside and know that beneath that snow, the weeds still grow. (We know this is true, because when that snow melts, there they are, bigger than ever.)

In February, though, we start to notice the daylight lasting just a wee bit longer….hope is on the horizon with the rising sun.

But February is a weird month – it’s that ‘tween month – not really winter, not really spring. Kind of the prelude season. We don’t dare do much in the garden for fear of smashing delicate soil structure and destroying zillions of microbes in a single step. Some, not mentioning names, of course, might use that as an excuse to sit back in their easy chairs by the fire, maybe with something fermented, and delve into catalogs that promise color, warmth, and bounty at their fingertips. (Ya gotta love that woman sporting her fancy melons.) And we can talk about climate change and global warming and extremes in weather, but seriously, do I believe I’ll be able to grow luffas and bananas?

Umm – well yes, I DO believe – as much as I believe in the Good Garden Fairy – and the ability of science to come up with marvelous things we would never have believed possible. (You have to understand, I’m married to a scientist, and in my past life, I worked in a laboratory, so I have come to understand that it’s all a matter of levels of uncertainty – or conversely, certainty – and obviously, there is nothing certain in this world except death and taxes – but lest I digress….)

Oh sure, we can take the opportunity to reflect on what worked, what didn’t, and what we’d do differently if we could take back all those stupid things we said in our ‘tween years – but learning from our mistakes is for progressives and grown ups.

No, during garden-planning season, we all quite willingly skip into our very own fantasy world, and it’s not a bad thing. Great things come from great visions, after all, and even if they don’t end up being true to the dream, they can still, in their own way, be quite extraordinary. It has to start with a seed of an idea, though, and the desire to make it grow, right? So – feel no guilt – sit where you are, fantasize away, and do your part to save the microbes!

Fish emerging through the ice on the little pond - Is it spring out here yet?

In February, though, anything and everything can and will happen, so you have to be prepared. Mentally, if nothing else. I mean, we have days when we think it must be April. We watch the birds pairing up and the buds start to swell on the trees, and we know that spring is maybe tomorrow, if not already. Other days, we feel we’ve regressed to November. Is there any question why we are dazed and confused?

When the days are nice, we get out and finish pruning (ahm! Isn’t that what we were supposed to be doing?) and maybe we can even take advantage of a sale at our local nurseries and plant a tree or two while they are still sleeping. (Wake up in a warm place … now There’s a fantasy!)

The problem with February is that on nice days (it’s all relative, sure, but we’ve been hitting 50 here, and it feels pretty darn good!), we feel we should be getting the garden ready, even though the soil is obviously too wet – and on lousy days (when the wind is blowing 50), we are thinking surely winter should be over by now and we really should be out there getting the garden ready, even though the soil is obviously too wet. Did I say that already? But that’s how February is. Repetitive. And we are tired of this stuff and need out. Cabin fever closes in big time. People in Cordova, Alaska, know what I’m talking about. And yes, I confess, I am spending way too much time on TravelZoo.

For those of us in Washington, though, the land where the weeds never sleep, February is the month of error. We are tempted to start our annual plants, but know we shouldn’t dare, but do anyway. We can’t help it. Primroses arrive in the grocery stores – and they are blooming profusely in sunny yellows and oranges. So we go home, full of hope and promise, and try planting a little something in makeshift milk-jug greenhouses; in the open garden, we try planting another little something – we plant deeply and mulch thickly, figuring they’ll eventually make it to the sunlight; we plant, watch our seedlings rot in the wet months that are sure to come, and replant and maybe even replant again; we plant, cover with mini hoop-houses of plastic, which get ripped in the wind, and which we strap down with Duct Tape, and then later try to crawl into and water even though it’s pouring down rain outside; and in a tender Valentine’s Day moment, we cut out pictures of hearts and flowers and paste them on cards and give them to our grandmothers. Ok, maybe I can’t do that anymore, but if I could, I would.

Lacinato kale in winter - it survives everything (and so will you!)

Well, folks, when all else fails, I say Eat More Kale. I know, I know, it might sound counterintuitive to some, and it hardly seems a solution for those winter-time blues or anything else I’ve been talking about, but believe me, it will do you wonders – as will (it goes without saying) my all-time remedy for just about everything: garlic.

I am happy to present to you here today a recipe from one of my readers, and of whom I have become a real fan. Walt has not only passed on this incredibly good (and simple!) recipe that combines these two miracle cures, but also sent me plans on how to build a beehive – which I will share with you in blog posts to come. For now:

Death by Garlic (Revived by Kale)

By: Walt Wielbicki (Garlic Breath)

Prep Time: 5 Minutes
Cook Time: 15 Minutes
Ready In: 20 Minutes
Servings: 4

“10 minced cloves of garlic lightly browned in olive oil and tossed with parsley, kale, red pepper flakes, hot penne pasta, and freshly grated Romano cheese makes a heady and flavorful dish.”

Death by Garlic (Revived by Kale) Casserole

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 cup olive oil
10 cloves Polish hard neck garlic, minced
1 bunch Nash’s Kale torn from the thick stems in bite size pieces
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 pound dry penne pasta
1/3 cup grated Romano cheese

DIRECTIONS:

1. Cook pasta according to directions on package
2. In a pan, brown the Polish garlic in oil for 2 Minuets then add the Nash kale and stir for 5 more minuets until the kale is wilted. Add salt, pepper and parsley and remove from heat.
3. Toss penne pasta with garlic mixture and add Romano cheese and serve!

Note: Add sliced Polish kielbasa at the same time you brown garlic for a special treat.

My variations: We used gluten-free penne pasta made with rice flour. I’ve been really missing pasta lately, and these were great. We had plenty of kale, and yes, even parsley from our garden.  As for garlic, we used German Extra Hardy (a porcelain type with a long shelf life) instead of Polish hardneck garlic. The Polish I have is a softneck artichoke type, which is not quite as flavorful as the German. I also threw in a can of tuna (along with the water it comes in). Polish kielbasa would, indeed, be good. Meatless is also very good.

! ~ * ~ !

One Final Word (or two): Don’t despair.

After February, comes March – and in March, things start to get a little crazy – so if there is something you can do now (sharpen your tools, get your trellises ready, yes, finish pruning, design your water systems and future garden beds, and yes, order seeds!) – do it!

And yes, I might try starting a little spinach. And maybe a few onions. Maybe even more kale….

Links to some cool gardening ideas for February:

A seed-starter plant stand

A chart on how long seeds last (viability)

Some of my favorite seed companies

Organic Seed Alliance list of companies that sell organic seeds

Tips on starting seeds indoors (from Renee’s Garden)

To fill people in who don’t live in the Pacific Northwest: we’ve had three days of some of the heaviest snow we’ve seen in decades, followed by rain and freezing temps that left everything encased in ice.  Yesterday, the wind hurled the rain against the windows. Branches of our old fir in the front yard flailed wildly about and I thought sure our old cherry tree was going to topple over. Little birds hunkered down beneath the feeder, while the eagles and gulls raced each other across the sky.

So – you can imagine my surprise when I found my kale plants standing defiantly strong against the onslaught of weather. “Mother Nature – bring it ON!”

My favorite amongst the kales is the Italian Lacinato. Seriously, this plant can grow to tree-like status in the veggie world. It’s amazingly beautiful, with dark green, deeply crinkled leaves, statuesque, even prehistoric – and it is, in fact, a very ancient plant. Nearby, also poking up from the melting snow, a young rosemary.  It seemed like a natural fit. I picked some of both.

I love eating with the seasons and harvesting what I can from the garden, but I have to admit, I could be more efficient in the winter-gardening department. I’m not sure any plastic tunnel would have held up under the weather we’ve had, though, so I’m grateful for something that can hold its own under harsh weather.

Still, in the dead of winter (which, looking at my garden, is an appropriate expression), some might be heard to say, “Oh no. Chard and kale. Again.”

That person, however, would not be me. I love kale. My favorite way of cooking it is in a Polish soup with a rich broth, assorted root vegetables, beans, and sausage. It’s also really good simply steamed with a little garlic & fried bacon thrown in and a splash of vinegar. Or you could sauté it with a lot of garlic and then toss it with a little olive oil, parsley, and red pepper flakes into penne pasta, topped with Romano cheese, like my friend, Walt, the beekeeper, does (I’ll share his recipe soon).

But I didn’t have these things tonight, and what I ended up with was a sloshy stir-fry that was actually quite good. I was inspired by a recipe I found at the Unrefined Kitchen. I was intrigued by the idea of “cauliflower rice” – especially since we are trying to limit grains and gluten in our diet – so here is my variation:

Recipe: Kale-Cauliflower-Chicken Casserole

Ingredients:

Chicken breasts, onions, kale, cauliflower, garlic, rosemary, bone broth or other stock, arrowroot or cornstarch, cheese (optional).

Method:

Basically, just sauté a little onion with cut-up pieces of a couple of chicken breasts. After the mixture is browned and cooked through, add a little bone broth thickened with arrowroot to make a thin gravy. In another pan, lightly steam cut-up chunks of cauliflower in bone broth or stock. Blast a couple of times with an immersion (or other) blender to make it “rice-like.” While this is going on, chop your garlic and set aside. Cut 6-8 leaves of kale in thin strips and toss it in with the chicken. Right at the end, add the chopped garlic, a little minced rosemary, and the cauliflower “rice.” Give it a stir or two. Top the servings with a little cheese (we used Asiago).

I could live on this. Quite well, in fact.

Some pointers:

Kale: If you layer the leaves of the kale and roll them up like a cigar, it is easy to slice into narrow strips and then cross slice. Kale doesn’t have the water content of spinach, so it doesn’t reduce quite as much – and that’s why it’s helpful to add a little extra broth to the mix – how much depends on how gravy-like you like it.

Cauliflower: I admit, ours did not turn out as “rice”-like as that described in Unrefined Kitchen. Perhaps I oversteamed it a bit. The blender quickly turned it to thick mush. No matter. Still good. But it made the whole casserole more stew-like. In fact, this would be a good way to add a flavorful “sauce” to other dishes.

Arrowroot: If you haven’t used arrowroot, give it a try. Cornstarch also works, but it might be difficult to find some that is GMO-free. Arrowroot thickens at a lower temp and you can use a little less. Plus, it’s gluten-free (as opposed to thickening with flour). Like cornstarch, it needs to be mixed with a little cold liquid first.

Garlic: I used 2 small bulbs (about 1.75” diameter) (9 cloves) of German Extra Hardy. This Porcelain variety can easily get nearly twice that size. It is known for having just a few large, plump cloves per bulb, a strong garlic flavor, and a high allicin content. At this time of year, the hardneck bulbs are reaching the end of their shelf life, so they need to be eaten. The smaller bulbs seem to keep longer, so I save them for last. I don’t “mince” the garlic too small – I like to bite into a piece of it now and then. I just smash the cloves with the flat side of a meat tenderizer and then chop it coarsely (yes, you can lay the flat side of a knife on a clove and hit it with your hand – but I prefer to minimize the beatings to my hands). Letting it sit a bit (all it takes is a minute or less) before adding it to the rest of the food gives time for the allicin in the garlic to form and other chemical reactions to take place that develop flavor and increase health benefits. Allicin is destroyed by heat, so to preserve flavor, add chopped garlic to the food at the very last minute, giving it just enough time to heat up and for the flavors to distribute.

Rosemary: Strip the narrow leaves from the rosemary, chop fine, and add it at the last minute with the garlic. Again, you don’t want those volatile oils to just evaporate. I love the woodsy smell of rosemary, but it’s easy to do too much – so go lightly.

Cheese: not a necessity, but it sure adds another dimension of flavor to the overall dish. We used what we happened to have.

About Growing Kale & Dealing with Aphids:

If I were to pick a power food for Northwest gardens, I think it would have to be kale. The Lacinato does so well for me, I don’t think I’ll even bother with the other varieties next year, which were more prone to aphid infestations and tend to turn tough and bitter with age. Some people plant kale in spring and then again in fall. Me, I just keep with the spring plant. I’m too busy with the garlic in late summer, and it is hard to get new plants going during our hot, dry time when we have little rainfall, lots of wind, and when the bugs are in full force.

Like other brassicas, the kales are nutrient hogs – and they are prone to aphids – so you have to decide whether the effort and resources are worth it. To me, they are. You don’t need many plants to give you plenty of food. A larger plant (i.e., one started in spring) seems to have a little more resilience against the aphid onslaught. Ants will farm them – so if you have aphids, you probably have double trouble. Ladybugs feast on aphids, but never enough to get rid of them. My solution has been to spray the little bast**ds with a strong force water – but then, you have to wonder, where do they go and where do they attack next? I’ve also tried soap, nicotine, garlic, and oil sprays – but then, you don’t want to harm the good bugs that are trying to help in the war effort. I’ve also tried planting wormwood in the vicinity, which also seems to help. I even smash them into glue between my fingers. No one method, though, completely solves the problem. A combination of counterattacks is usually the best strategy. Plus, it’s usually not the whole crop that gets infested – only plants here and there. By growing a little extra, you can afford to sacrifice a few if you need to. If you can get the plants through the summer to after frost, Mother Nature will solve your insect problem for you. Plus, after frost is when kale comes into its prime.

~ * ~

More Info:

If you’re looking for a good source for seeds, I can very highly recommend Renee’s Garden, a company that specializes in heirloom varieties of veggies, herbs, and flowers. Renee Shepherd is always on the lookout for unique and quality seeds; they are strong supporters of sustainable farming practices; and they donate seeds all over the world in a variety of outreach programs. It truly is a small company making a huge difference, and I can’t say enough good things about them! (And no – I’m not an affiliate – I’ve just had some outstanding results with their seeds. Good seed definitely matters!) Non-GMO – of course.

Are you a fan of Dr. Weil? He, too, loves kale. Kale is a nutritional powerhouse of vitamins A, C, and K, the organosulphur compounds that have been linked to cancer prevention, calcium, and folic acid. You can read more about kale in Dr. Weil’s garden here.

Need garlic? I still have some German Extra Hardy and Polish White left. Shoot me an email, head over to the garlic page, and/or stop by the house if you’re in the neighborhood.

Artichokes are full of A, B, and C vitamins, phosphorous, potassium, calcium, and iron. I feel compelled to write that, but I don’t think I ever eat them for the vitamins. I eat them for the ritual of peeling off the petals of the flowers one by one, dipping them in an oily sauce, and individually scraping them across my bottom teeth. It’s a sensual experience, not to be rushed. At the end of a hectic day, sometimes it’s important to sit down, take time, be with someone you care about, and share.  Or maybe just be alone with the solitude of your own thoughts. Also good. Artichokes are a thoughtful food. Thought-full. Interesting word. Yes, an artichoke makes that happen.

Ok – so boil up the chokes, heat up some butter or add a little lemon juice to some mayo, and you’re good to go, right?

Whoa whoa whoa.

Artichokes are all about taking time.

And the perfect accompaniment to artichokes? Aioli.

True, aioli is basically garlic in mayonnaise — but it can be so much more.

As a side story (which I am well-known for telling), in my early 20s, I spent a year in Paris, where a lovely woman, who is a story in herself, took me under her wing and without whom I would not have survived. There are many stories within this story, but one of them involves teaching me to make mayonnaise. The French are fond of rituals, slow food, and taking the time to enjoy good food and relationships. It is not about an egg and a cup of oil; it is about the soul of the little poulet and the tree that provides us with the essence of its fruit.

And so…

How to Make Aioli

1 bulb of garlic
2 egg yolks
1 c olive oil
a lemon
a little salt

Preliminary Notes:

For greater success, all ingredients should be at room temperature. Getting the egg, oil, and lemon to meld together as one is much easier when they are at similar temps. Don’t shock them with a jolt of cold lemon.

Some people may be concerned about Salmonella with raw eggs – in which case, you might add a little garlic and olive oil to commercial mayonnaise. No, it’s not the same as making your own. What you gain in security, you lose in control. My “olive oil” manufactured mayonnaise contains soybean oil, modified corn starch, sugar, xanthan gum, oleoresin, beta-carotene and paprika for color, and something called “natural flavors,” in addition to standard ingredients. The first ingredient is water, which always makes me wonder what I’m really paying for.

Personally, I really miss my chickens, but I buy eggs from our neighbors, and I am not particularly concerned about Salmonella. I don’t feel quite the same with the off-the-shelf variety found in supermarkets, however.

So – get good eggs – the flavor is night and day. This is key. Use good olive oil. Obviously, if it is strong-flavored olive oil, your aioli will be correspondingly strong-flavored. A mixture of oils (pure and extra virgin) might be less overpowering. Expect your homemade version to awaken your taste buds with its richness and simplicity.

Also, to do this properly, you need a mortar & pestle, which gives time for the properties of the garlic to transform and the flavors to better blend. There is something about the rhythmic, repetitive grinding, stirring, whisking motions; inhaling the vapors of the garlic and lemon; watching the transformation of the yolk and oil; and appreciating the texture of something soft and smooth but not mechanically homogenized … all very fulfilling in their own way. But sure – a blender will work here.

Let’s Begin:

Aioli is not aioli without garlic. This is an opportunity to taste the nuances of different varieties – hot, spicy, smooth, mellow. Juan de Fuca Wonder is often my standard, simply because I have so much of it. But try a Persian Star, Bogatyr, or Vekak — all very flavorful varieties. Personally, I like something that packs a little punch – something where a few large cloves go a long way. Hardnecks in general would be my choice, but truly, it’s all good. Whatever kind you choose, peel the cloves of garlic and mash them in the mortar with the pestle. Add a pinch of salt to help things go. Begin smashing, grinding, and stirring with a circular motion until it becomes a paste. Inhale deeply. This is good. I love this step. The fresher the garlic, the easier this is, as fresh garlic is so much juicier.

Start adding the egg yolks, one after another, and stir each until well mixed. My French mentor advised to always go in one direction throughout this entire process. I am not sure why, but I assumed it had something to do with the rotation of the earth. My language skills at the time did not allow me to properly formulate the question, and besides, some things were better not questioned. Listen. Accept. Follow. Learn.

Now for the true Art in the Aioli: in the beginning, the olive oil must be added only a drop or two at a time. Seriously. You must give the yolks time to accept the oil and for them to become one. In kitchen chemistry terms, this is the emulsification process. The garlic helps this transformation. Unless you have a large mortar, you will want to switch to a larger bowl and a whisk. You will capture air into the creamy mass. Eventually you can add more oil at a time until it is a thin stream, but at first, drop by drop is the rule. Stir continuously. Take your time. If you see it start to separate, stop adding oil and keep stirring. If it refuses to emulsify, you can add an extra yolk, but if you go slowly, it shouldn’t be a problem.

About half-way through the oil, squeeze in the fresh lemon. It doesn’t need a lot – a teaspoon or two. The lemon juice not only adds flavor, but also changes the pH of the mixture and helps it to thicken.

When you get the entire cup of oil incorporated into the yolks, you can thin it with a little water or lemon juice. You can also add herbs, spices, or a little horseradish.  Mustard also helps the emulsion process and can be added at any time. Brown mustard is easy to grow, and a little goes a long way. If I use it, I add the seeds when I first grind the garlic cloves. (As with many things, once you grow or make your own, you become a snob to those prepackaged colored things in the squeeze bottles.)

Your aioli is almost complete. Taste. Adjust. Taste again. Gently dip in the artichoke petals. Savor this simple but indulgent delight. Savor your time together.

(One last note: You might want to keep in mind how easy it is to consume a lot of oil. You don’t have to consume it all at one sitting. The aioli keeps well under refrigeration [remember the raw eggs]; in fact, the flavors just get better. The French are fond of putting it on fish, with sliced meats, grilled vegetables….)

Blue sky, green trees, and the graceful curl of a garlic scape....What? In the desert? How can this be?

I have a serious case of scape envy. There. I’ve said it. I have so-called “friends” who send me pictures of their garlic scapes and how well they are doing. Don’t get me wrong. I love to see how the garlic is growing in other parts of the country – especially garlic bulbs that are descendants from our own. It’s just that we have had so much wind and rain and cold here in the Northwest, I can hardly call it “spring.” I am only just beginning to see the tips of these little bulbils emerging on my earliest varieties. Sure, I am getting a few scapes off the elephant garlic, which are always the first to emerge, but it will be awhile before the hardneck varieties offer theirs for the picking. Usually I am harvesting around Memorial Day and into the first week of June.

In the meantime, I have been working on compiling my favorite ways of using garlic scapes in the kitchen, which, considering the way I cook (it’s called “fling theory”), is turning into a stream-of-consciousness novella. I am hoping to get this little cookbook finished before scape season is over, but believe me, it has been a drooling undertaking that has only added to my misery.

Course, the person who sent me the pictures knew very well what he was doing, judging by his dry humor. But I have to admit the photos were strong evidence of his gardening prowess. He has been able to get hardneck varieties to thrive where they are least likely to survive – an undisclosed location in the desert. (I wouldn’t want to be held responsible for someone sneaking into his backyard and snipping off these delicacies. Not that I would do such a thing. Er… I mean, anyone.)

Garlic scapes make a nice bouquet

Green garlic, aka scallions, are like green onions, only garlicky

And speaking of scapes – or maybe scallions – I had a good question from a reader the other day who asked how big they can get before they’re too tough to put in a salad or just grill. He had recently purchased some at the farmers’ market that were about ½ inch diameter, and said they were much too tough to eat raw or grilled, but that sliced and sautéed in scrambled eggs, they were great. I am not sure whether he was talking about scapes or scallions, so this is a good time to bring up two things: 1) not all scapes are the same, and 2) the difference between scapes and scallions.

Scapes are the shoots that come out of the center of the garlic plant at this time of year and form a little bud on top that later develops into little seedlets (which can be planted or eaten). Only the hardneck varieties produce scapes (actually, the softnecks will, too, but only under duress). Elephant garlics, which are not a true garlic, but of the leek family, also produce scapes.

I was in our local grocery today and saw garlic scapes bundled up with rubber bands like asparagus spears going for about $4/lb. They were tall and straight and a little on the thick side: definitely elephant garlic. The top bulbs were quite large. Obviously older than the ones I had just picked from our garden.

Scapes from Elephant Garlic are also called "spears" for obvious reasons

The elephants have a much different flavor than do the smaller, more delicate scapes of gourmet hardneck garlic varieties, which often twist and turn in circles, depending on the type. Although the elephants in general are milder than regular gourmet garlic, they also tend to have a slightly bitter flavor. Care must be taken not to cook them at too high a heat, which can bring out that bitterness. Personally, I prefer them in soups and stir fries. In fact, I used some the other night lightly sautéed with some pak choi and a little celery, and it was delicious over cous cous.

In general, young scapes from hardneck garlic varieties are better for grilling or eating raw. Even the very curly ones, though, if left on the plant too long, make better floral arrangements.

Regardless of the kind, fresh scapes should snap like an asparagus. Old ones get tough and woody. Yes, the flower tips are good to eat, too, but also can get quite tough, depending on when you pick them.

The other thing I’m seeing in stores is “green garlic” or “garlic scallions.” These are not scapes. These are just immature garlic plants. They look a whole lot like green onions and are about the same size. They can be either hardneck or softneck varieties, since we’re talking about the whole plant, not just the scape shoot. Elephant garlic scallions, which are often advertised as “green garlic,” are much larger and more like their leeky cousins. You will often see the little nubs starting to form on the bulb that are characteristic of the elephants. These will grow into those hard-shelled corms or bulblets that can be planted and grown into rounds the first year and full-sized elephant bulbs the following year.

Hope this answers some of the questions out there about scapes and scallions. Whatever the variety, they are all similar in that they are best when young and tender – and there are so many things you can do with them, I can’t begin to list them in a post – hence, my upcoming cookbook!

Garlic - against the wind - tougher than you'd think!

All I can say is that I am really looking forward to harvesting a few garlic scapes of my own. It has been a challenging spring on our little back acre. My garlic has been literally whipped by gale-force winds – repeatedly – for months. Not to mention downpours. It’s amazing that it is still standing. No wonder the tips are yellow. At least it has been a good opportunity to see which varieties are faring the best under adverse conditions. We have our own little Survivor episode going on out there. (So far, my newest arrival, German Extra Hardy, has been outperforming every other garlic on the plot – but size, strength, and tenacity are only preliminary characteristics. Bulb size, flavor, disease susceptibility, and storage capability are yet to be tested.)

Pathetic Tomato Under Glass - this gallon jar serves as a makeshift greenhouse, but life is hardly tropical for this little tomato

As for the rest of the veggie garden – it’s kind of a gamble. If I waited until nights are consistently at 55 degrees before planting (as many seed packages suggest), I’d be a long time waiting. Heck. We’re lucky to reach 55 in the heat of the day. As you can see from the status of my tomatoes, I’d probably better stick to garlic.  Course, last year, I purchased plants from A New Leaf (which is now housed at the Red Rooster Grocery), and they just about took over the world as I know it – the tomatoes, that is, not Mark & Lisa at the Red Rooster, although they are definitely getting a “buy local” movement going that is doing its part to change the world.

Still, I can’t complain. I think about my desert-rat friends trying to grow garlic in what is quickly approaching 100 degrees, and I imagine I would be breaking out in some kind of rash under those conditions. I wish them well and hope that they enjoy those tender scapes while they can, because they are likely to be harvesting their garlic bulbs pre-cooked (which might not be half bad – hmm, they might be on to something there – and if nothing else, time for a neighborhood barbecue!).

This afternoon, I strolled (ok – hobbled – but that’s for another post) through the garden and saw a very simple, fast, easy, and gourmet (!) dinner before me: first-of-the-season garlic scapes, first snow peas, salad greens, & thinnings – all tossed together in a tortilla. Here’s the recipe (loosely defined — I don’t really believe in recipes, just guidelines):

Spring Garden Tour Tortillas

• A dozen garlic scapes, coarsely chopped
• Several handfuls of snow peas
• A few beet thinnings – some with little beets (chop stems; separate out leaves)
• A few chard thinnings (chop stems; separate out leaves)
• Some radish thinnings (separate leaves)
• Numerous leaves of red & green leafed lettuce (we have tons!)
• Numerous leaves of spinach
• Also used: some leftover chicken, chopped (optional – this could also be meatless), some olive oil,  a little balsamic vinegar, and some tortillas.

Just an aside – I don’t believe in wasting anything. I feed scraggly hairy roots to my worms, but eat just about everything else. Stems are good. Radish leaves loose their prickles when lightly cooked. But the idea here is to get creative with whatever you have on hand. Here we go:

Heat a frying pan hot – toss in a little olive oil – and then toss in the scapes, peas, the little beets, & stems from the beets & chard. Cook a couple minutes at most.

Snack on the radishes while you cook everything.

Toss in the chicken, give it a stir, & the chopped greens (beet leaves, chard, radish tops). Sprinkle with a little balsamic vinegar – not much, because it can be overpowering – just enough to give it a little tang. Stir & cover.

As soon as the greens are wilted (about 1 minute), fill a tortilla, top with fresh lettuces & spinach, and eat. The wilted greens add a bit of moisture to the mix, so you might have to tilt the pan to let it drain to one side. Cheese would also be good, but some of us are lactose-sensitive, and it is just fine without. Chopped nuts might be nice. Too bad I forgot chopped chives!

Fast – fresh – fabulous – fun – several reasons to grow your own or buy from your neighbor!

Indeed.

Ok – I have a confession. I don’t really have a “favorite” hummus recipe. I make it different every time. But see, that’s the beauty of it. Here’s how I made it the other day – and everyone woofed it:

Put in a blender or otherwise chop, smash, and blend:

• 2 cans of chickpeas or garbanzo beans, same thing, drained – save the juice. Usually I cook my own, but this day I was in a hurry. Despite my raving about garlic, garbanzos are really what make hummus hummus – but you could also use another kind of bean if you don’t have them on hand.

• Garlic scapes – about a dozen or more – personally, I just can’t get enough of these curly things

• 3 T olive oil – (low-fat variations could use less)

• 1/3 c lemon juice or a couple of squeezed lemons

• 1/3 c sesame seed (I would have used more but I ran out) – if you don’t have a blender, Tahini, which is essentially sesame seed already blended with olive oil – is a good choice. If you use Tahini, be cautious with the oil.

• 1 c or so of parsley, smashed down – I grow a lot of this, and at this point, this recipe is sounding a lot like the pesto one, only with added beans instead of walnuts

• Maybe a little salt – don’t really need it with the lemon juice

Chop it, blend it, or whatever you need to do to make this a relatively smooth paste. Add back in about 1/4 cup of the drained bean juice if it looks too thick.

This hummus version is very green. People won’t know it’s hummus, which they think of as being kind of tan and something they’d maybe rather not describe. Yes – it’s very garlicky and very lemony. It’s also heavy on parsley. I love all these things.

Hummus is wonderful. Think of the many things you can do with this stuff! Here are some ideas:

• spread it on bread (better than butter!), pita bread, fresh crackers, tortilla chips
• dunk veggies in it, such as carrots, celery, broccoli – or whatever you have
• mellow it out with another can of beans
• spice it up with a little cayenne – or maybe some oregano or cumin, a little pepper
• use black beans instead of chickpeas
• leave out the sesame seeds if you don’t have any – don’t worry, it still works!
• add a couple scoops of peanut butter (some people like anything if it has peanut butter in it, my husband, included)
• make it more tangy with a couple of scoops of yogurt
• use lime juice instead of lemon
• add different vegetables to it – roasted peppers, spinach, sun dried tomatoes? mmmm….
• garnish it with parsley & paprika
• sculpt with it (the idea here is get creative!)

This humble dish is one of the oldest known to man – and you can see why – it can be whatever you like or whatever you have or a mixture of all you have and like. It’s wonderful. It’s eaten daily all over the Arab world, and many other cultures have a version they call their own. In fact, it’s known to have been around 5000 years before Christ! Now that’s amazing. My guess is that it helped the Egyptians build the pyramids. Just think what YOU can do with it!

Plus, it’s full of protein, iron, vitamin C, fiber, and more, depending on how it’s made.

I figure that anything that looks like a glob but gets your kids to eat beans, whole-grain crackers, and vegetables must be a good thing.

Enjoy!

EATING THIS STUFF CAN BE ADDICTIVE!

And to lure you into my web, I also offer a recipe for homemade crackers to go with them.

Go ahead…try these…don’t let anyone see you…scoop them into small bowls and go off to your happy place…we’ll see you in a few days. I tantalize you first with the pesto. You have to come back for the hummus and crackers.

GARLIC SCAPE PESTO:

First, a caveat: the problem with this recipe – or maybe it’s me – is that nothing is really measured and substitutions are made freely, depending on what you have on hand. If you are a freestyle cook, you understand this mentality. There are a few things you must have, namely, garlic and olive oil, or it simply isn’t pesto. Personally, I grow a lot of basil and several varieties, but I am not terribly fond of it in pesto (I know, this is blasphemy to my Sicilian heritage), because most recipes ask for a lot of it and it is too overpowering. Now the garlic – I grow lots – I use lots – it is incredibly overpowering – and if you are a true garlic lover, that is just how it should be. Ok – the recipe:

1 doz. garlic scapes
1 cup, more or less, of parsley (I grow a lot of this, too – it balances well with garlic and is available most of the year)
1 1/2 cup walnuts
1/2 – 1 tsp sea salt (you don’t need much)
1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 cup lemon juice

Chop, blend, or whatever you need to do to make it smooth. Yes, you can add Parmesan if you have it – or if you have pine nuts, those are great – and of course, you can totally change the taste with aromatic fresh basils, but I don’t always have those things, and the craving must be fed, regardless. What kind of recipe is this, you ask? Ok, not really a recipe, more like a guideline.

But now that you’ve made it, you must face your ethical dilemma: go hide or go share. Your choice. I won’t tell.

(Ok – the first crocus and daffodil might also elicit a bit of giddiness – but we don’t EAT those!)

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: THE GARLIC SCALLIONS ARE READY!

Today I went and picked an armful of mizuna – which, by the way, is such an extraordinary green – it’s purplish maroon blush on the topside of the leaves is absolutely beautiful, and its sharp hot, horseradish-like flavor when fresh clears the sinuses. Cooking, as with the garlic, mellows its flavor. Once planted, it seems to re-seed itself prolifically – which is fine, because “weeding” has never been more flavorful!

What could be a better combination than a few garlic scallions (have to test them, you know, to make sure they are ready!), some mizuna, and maybe a tad bit of sea salt, briskly sauteed in a little oil – hmmm…. Oh, dear fresh garlic, how I have missed you! I just cannot break down and buy those 2-for-a-buck inferior bulb varieties that come from who-knows-where. The wait has been worth it! Note: these garlic scallions are from a mixture of gourmet varieties – there is simply no comparison with the “California Early” types grown commercially!

Garlic scallions – or “green garlic” – those tender little morsels before they mature into a pungent clove-divided bulb, spell spring in so many ways! Yes you can eat the shoots! And those garlic cloves that didn’t quite overwinter and have started to sprout? You can still plant them! Even a small pot will do. Crowded is ok. In a couple of months (maybe less), you, too, can be eating your own scallions right from the garden.

Other great ideas for garlic scallions: chopped fresh in salads, humus, pesto (who needs basil?) – or lightly cooked (throw it in at the last minute to not lose the flavor!) in eggs, with pasta, over seafood, in soups, on potatoes, with asparagus – or maybe mixed with leeks or chives and thrown in just about everything.

WANT SOME NOW??? HERE’S HOW TO ORDER: My supplies disappear quickly (they are habit-forming!), so get your order in soon! If you live on the Olympic Peninsula, Washington State, within reasonable distance of Sequim (gas prices are driving up the cost of food everywhere!), I am most willing to accommodate. Call me at (360) 681-3891 or write blythe (at) barbolian (dot) com.

YES I am open to barter & trades!