It felt so good to get out in the yard for an hour of work yesterday, before and after visiting with yet another friend harvesting our massive supply of miner’s lettuce. I cannot believe I’ve been futzing and fretting over my extremely poor luck at growing lettuce when we have such wild abundance. I might even call some farmers market vendors to see if they’d like to bring a few bags to market. This beautiful patch was hidden under a row cover, while silly me has been buying organic mixed greens on our trips to various co-ops and natural food stores:
Miner’s lettuce, also called “claytonia,” “winter purslane,” or “Indian lettuce,” loves, cool, moist weather. A “foodie” green and wild edible, this patch has reseeded itself each year after a few scattered seeds in 2014. Usually a spring crop, Continue reading →
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention a daily lesson gleaned from our extensive yard and my intensive gardens, namely, that wild edibles are infinitely easier and more naturally prolific than fussy annuals or even some intentionally planted perennial vegetables. I have gathered bags and bags of dandelion greens this Spring, given them away to friends, blended them into smoothies, happily fed guests and ourselves on Goji Dandelion Red Lentil Curry, sauteed them, and even wrapped them around slices of raw Manchego.
I’ve made gorgeous salads of wild violets, and yesterday, I harvested a huge bag of lambsquarters and garlic mustard for an almond butter veggie curry dish served over millet. (Sorry, no recipe for that one … it’s basically just blended garlic mustard and lambsquarters with water, then two packets of frozen organic veggies mixed with the green water, almond butter, some red curry paste, homegrown dehydrated tomatoes, and fresh garlic. I toasted the millet in coconut oil for a few minutes before boiling it.) In 2012, stinging nettles were “my best crop,” and this year I even purchased some nettle plants from a local farmer. I put them in crates, because I feel bad introducing another “weed” to this already very wild yard:
Nettles in Crates
Nettles in their prized spot in the shady Madison garden
The point is, we have been enjoying some prolific harvests (er, weeds) for months now, even though gardening season has only just begun. By leaving a portion of our yard wild, we also seem to have kept the rabbits less interested in our garden. Wish I could say the same thing for leaf hoppers: those things are voracious! They amplify the contrast between the wild edibles and organic gardening, although I visited an Amish friend the other day and was heartened to see her dwarf kale covered in Diatomaceous Earth just like mine below:
Diatomaceous Earth on tomato, dwarf Siberian kale, a very tiny Swiss chard, and oregano
Note the heavy handed powder necessary to keep these plants somewhat uneaten. Note the heavy mulch necessary to keep the soil from drying out too fast and becoming overrun with never-ending dandelion fuzz. And now take a look at this lush spread of lambsquarters, first year garlic mustard (the second year’s the one you really want to tug out right away), dandelion greens, and soon-to-be-flowering edible daisies:
Our gnomes like this arrangement, too:
That photo actually includes three gnomes, but one is hiding behind the ash stump that now believes it’s 100 ash trees! We’ll need to trim it back, but faeries do enjoy the ash, even more than Stars and Moon Gazing Balls … although, apparently, they are quite pleased with the faery bling David and I procured on Tuesday. (I’ll save the rest of that for another post.)
Some people purposely plant these in their gardens. I did when we lived in Madison, but then I learned that lambsquarters grow pretty much everywhere. No need to plant! We have them in several pockets around our yard. High in calcium, copper and iron, superfood lambsquarters have 11 days worth of vitamin K in one cup! They are also very high in oxalic acid, so they require cooking. I learned that the hard way in Madison. I spent a few weeks blending them into fresh green smoothies and wound up passing a kidney stone one night. Holy Mother of God and Nature … never again!
I actually hadn’t eaten lambsquarters again until last night. Cooking them does break down the oxalic acid and release the nutrients. I’m not sure how to describe the taste — kind of like an earthy spinach or chard? They enrich everything you add them to, just please do remember to cook those guys.
According to my back, the Faery Realm, and my would-be Lazy Gardener Self, wild edibles are also keepers — at least in the backyard. Out front, I pretend to exert at least a little influence with loads and loads of mulch and a few carefully nurtured herbs. I dream of the day when they, too, explore their invasive natures and take more active participation in the Mad Scientist’s Garden. Until then, my bags of greens keep me feeling it’s all worthwhile, even if I gather four to five times more wild greens than collards and kale. 😉
I haven’t posted any recipes in awhile, but this one was too tasty not to share!
As regular blog readers know, I’ve got a yard full of dandelions, and aside from harvesting the flowers for dandelion wine and dandelion jelly, I also gather dandelion leaves. Bags and bags of dandelion leaves! Sometimes I put them in green smoothies with frozen pineapple, banana and filtered water. Sometimes I steam them and just top with a hint of sea salt and freshly ground pepper. And sometimes I’ve been known to eat them wrapped around a slice of raw manchego. Tonight, I decided to make a dandelion soup.
I don’t measure when I prepare food, but here’s a guestimate:
Goji Dandelion Red Lentil Curry
Ingredients:
1.5 cups dried red lentils
filtered water to cover the lentils
1 strip of kombu seaweed
1 clove of garlic, pressed
half bag of gathered dandelion greens
half bunch of cilantro (not pictured)
three handfuls of dried goji berries
1 16 oz. can of coconut milk
Thai Kitchen green curry paste to taste (I used two generous scoops)
Method:
Cover the lentils with filtered water and begin to boil. Add in the kombu (for better digestion) and a clove of pressed garlic.
As the lentils and water begin to boil, put the dandelion greens and cilantro into a blender. Add enough filtered water (not the boiling water, but more water) to blend the greens into about a quart of nice, bright green liquid.
Add the blended water and greens to the pot of lentils and continue to boil. Watch to make sure the lentils don’t foam over. Turn down to low once you’ve established a rolling boil, at which point, you can add the three handfuls of goji berries and let it all simmer.
When the lentils are soft –about twenty to thirty minutes — add the coconut milk and green curry paste. Simmer for ten more minutes to meld the flavors. Serve and add a hint of sea salt to taste.
Goji berries hail from the nightshade family, just like tomatoes. Asians often add them to soups in order to impart a rich sweetness. In this soup, they perfectly balance the bitterness of the dandelions and go well with the subtle cilantro flavors. The spicy-sourness of the green curry rounds out the flavors, with the kombu adding that hint of fish flavor usually found in non-vegan curry dishes.
I got the idea for this soup while craving red lentils, noticing that I really needed to use up the rest of our cilantro, and researching where to plant my two new goji berry bushes:
Apparently, the bushes love full sun and can grow to sizes of eight to twelve feet in height and diameter. That’s a lot of goji berries! It also requires careful planning, since they like to spread once happily planted in their spot. I haven’t decided whether to plant them next to each other (with space in between) for a full goji hedge — a “fedge” (food hedge) in permaculture speak — or if I want to plant them in different areas to increase the odds of finding appropriate growing conditions. In the meantime, I will definitely add goji berries to soups again! Also known as wolfberries, these little gems pack a nutritional wallop: from beta carotene to anti-oxidants to fountain of youth chemicals and blood thinning capability.
Although I still consume the vast majority of my food raw, some things benefit from cooking. The boiling process mellows the sugars of the dried, sticky goji fruits, and it allows the dandelion greens to form a short-term herbal infusion, making some of the nutrients more bio-available than in their raw state. Besides helping with allergies and providing high vitamin A and calcium, dandelion greens offer so many benefits that I’m just sending you to the following link: click here to read a long list of dandelion health benefits. The results of eating kombu include: vitality and youthfulness, detoxification, adding essential trace minerals, and easier digestion of legumes.
Cilantro chelates mercury and heavy metals, and garlic does everything from boost immunity to thinning blood to keeping away vampires –psychic and otherwise. 😉 Coconut milk contains phosphorous for strong bones and manganese for good blood sugar levels, along with Omega 3, 6 and 9 fatty acids and various amino acids. A healthier option would involve cracking your own coconut to avoid the BPA in cans; however, I keep these cans on hand for very occasional, spontaneous meals. I’m a Lazy Raw Foodist even when I cook! The Thai Kitchen brand of curry pastes, including this green paste, are (as far as I can tell at this time) vegan. I keep both red and green flavors on hand, because they make fabulous soups and nori wraps on very short notice.
Most importantly for my purposes tonight, this superfood soup tasted savory, sweet, tangy and all around amazing! It had so many rich flavors that I can’t believe I only used water and no vegetable broth. TGWHL: Thank God/dess We Have Leftovers! 🙂
I suppose it was bound to happen. I’ve seen this trend with so many clients, friends and family members; I don’t know why I thought that I’d remain immune. Yesterday morning, I even had a dream that “things are not what they appear,” and not to get caught up in former expectations. At the same time I received that dream message, my sister got a cosmic download for me, too — in the shower of all places! I awoke to her texts:
“Got a pretty strong message for you this am in the shower …. they want you to remain open. God and the angels are with you and helping you and everything WILL be not only fine but wonderful. …But it may not come the way you think. …try to really practice mindful detachment. … Just neutrally observe what comes up and let it go … God and the angels totally have you covered, just be open to letting it happen. and right now it feels like they know some key info that you/we don’t yet. Just keep positive with your intention but let them work out the details of how to get there. …”
We both assumed those messages related to a particularly annoying 3D challenge I’ve been plugging away at for a long time but with which I am finally experiencing rapid, longed for changes. Today, I realized the messages we both received were also about …
Our Yard.
Oh, yes, I have big plans for this yard. It’s going to be an amazing little eco-faery-permaculture-medicinal herb-food garden-wild edibles-bird, bee and butterfly sanctuary nestled in a very unlikely spot. Yes, indeed, and I have been harvesting wild violet salads and dandelion greens for “beanie greenies” and dandelion smoothies like a good little wild forager eco-chick. I’ve even got “new” grubbies from a synchronous sale at Goodwill, so I can be the true Faery Farmer without messing up my “real” clothes:
Yep, that’s me, sporting the very classy/totally dorked out duds on my way out of the mudroom this morning to haul yet more wood mulch around my precious raised beds to keep them pristine and separate from the rest of the wild, wild yard. I’m tired. I have been hauling mulch for weeks, and while the yard looks like it has a plan, and we have four raised beds in various stages of assembly and soil filling, it still looks like a giant meadow out there. Despite the fact that David just mowed the lawn two days ago!
I assessed my progress and realized I needed another three feet of mulch around the front of the raised bed area, so out came the landscape cloth, yard cart, pitchfork (yep, I’ve become hardcore with this wood mulch. No more 5 gallon buckets … we’re talking wheels, here!), and more cardboard. Out came the wind, too, blowing my freshly cut strips of landscape cloth all over the dandelion filled yard. By the time I caught the long panels, they were covered in fine dandelion seeds. Someone, somewhere giggled, but it wasn’t me. Yet. I weighted down the other landscape cloth strips while dumping mulch on the first one. Load after heavy load. Man, my back began to hurt. I looked over at the fluttering landscape cloth only to see even more dandelion seeds blowing into and sticking on the cloth.
I decided to distract myself from this Sisyphean labor by stirring the compost pile. When I looked inside, I realized that the mulched grass clippings David had kindly added to the pile on Thursday were a) not dried and b) filled with little white dandelion seeds. Everywhere I looked this morning, I saw dandelion seeds or dandelion flowers. Thousands and thousands of yellow and white heads blowing in the breeze, scattering themselves on every bare spot, sticking to my hair, making me sneeze, popping up in mulch.
Normally, I love dandelions, and I’ve been known to pay $5.99 a bunch for fresh dandelion greens in the dead of winter, because I’m just that odd. I drink dandelion root tea, and I’ve used dandelion root tinctures to support my liver. In fact, dandelion greens and dandelion tea are two of my favorite things in the entire world of natural food store shopping.
But this morning … arrgh … this morning, I was not enjoying the dandelions. I had just somewhat successfully waged the Garlic Mustard War — a week-long series of battles against garlic mustard, a highly invasive, though also edible weed. After collecting a trash can full last week and lugging that heavy can to the curb, I saw vendors at the Farmer’s Market selling bags of garlic mustard for $4 each. I used to love the stuff myself — it makes a great pesto — but David and I OD’d on it in Madison and haven’t re-acquired the taste yet. In any case, I uprooted and tossed the garlic mustard, because I’ve seen entire forests covered in those biennials, and only uprooting it prevents a monolithic spread once it appears.
The battles of the Garlic Mustard War occur less frequently now and on a smaller scale; however, I really didn’t want to engage in war on another front. Michael Pollan says, “A lawn is Nature under totalitarian rule,” and I spend plenty of time railing against dictatorships and gratuitous wars. The idea of waging war against my beloved dandelions didn’t sit well with me this morning. I started feeling like, well, the government … and that made me want to banish myself in the trash along with the other half can of stinky garlic mustard. I began to gather up the flapping landscape cloth and felt my heart sink as I realized my days as a Faery Farmer had only just begun and already I wanted to retire.
Then something suddenly clicked.
I had been wracking my brain all Fall and Winter for a so-called “cash crop,” but I couldn’t commit to anything that seemed too time intensive or required know-how to grow. Hmmm … I actually buy dandelions and dandelion products — sometimes at quite high retail prices — because I appreciate their flavor, nutritional profile, and medicinal value. In the midst of my aching back and increasing sense of defeat by Nature, I remembered that I had agreed to take on this permaculture project (our yard) because it involved working with Nature. If I had planted a crop with this kind of yield, I would have been thrilled. I looked around and reminded myself that in permaculture (and life) “the problem is the solution.” “Ask and you shall receive.” “Nature’s first law is abundance.” I’d wanted a fool proof, high yield cash crop, and I stood surrounded by massive volumes of a plant whose every single part offers valuable food and medicine.
Perspective.
Funny. Yesterday, after my sister and I both received our little downloads that things would be “better than fine,” so long as I didn’t get hung up on my expectations of the how, a youtube video suddenly jumped out at me. This guy shares how he made $900 with his dandelions. “Pay attention, Laura…we don’t give you and your sister a simultaneous double-whammy message to remain open-minded and then just drop the ball. Seriously, girl … we use it all. ‘Can you hear me now?'”
As I shifted my attitude this morning, I began to collect the pretty yellow flowers.
Lots and lots of flowers:
I looked up recipes for Dandelion Wine and Dandelion Jelly and decided to freeze my stash while determining if I want to use the traditional sugar or some other healthier sweetener(s). Do I want to “wild ferment” ala Sandor Katz, or use some other method? Will I use the Perfect Pickler? Do I need to gather pretty little jelly jars? Decisions, decisions.
Meanwhile, this huge collection of flowers didn’t even make a noticeable dent in the field. I could go out tomorrow and the next day and collect the same amount and still not see any visible reduction. Talk about abundance!
My mind began turning around other recipe possibilities like dandelion chips (as opposed to kale chips), superfood bars with dandelion greens as a base, and the possibility of bagging up the greens for someone to sell for me at the Farmer’s Market. At this point, I don’t know exactly how I will monetize this harvest, but I’ve reached a point of equilibrium and gratitude, realizing that Nature gives back to those who love her.
I decided to share my experience, because it mirrors that of so many people walking by Faith right now. People who’ve felt strongly guided in unusual directions who feel good about their choices but suddenly face a seemingly impossible block. That block usually comes out of nowhere and offers such overwhelming challenges that it temporarily rocks their Faith. (That’s when I usually hear from them: “Did I just totally misinterpret all those signs?!?” “Is the Universe messing with me?!” “Did God just open all those doors so he could slam this one in my face and laugh?!”)
As James Gilliland recently wrote, we’re experiencing a 5D overlay on the old reality. Many of us are already living most of our lives in the new reality, but when we pop back into the not-quite-ended old paradigm, the contrast feels like a smack upside the head. Those of us preparing bridges between the old and new realities will occasionally become overwhelmed by the vast contrast between the beauty, healing and instant manifestation of the new world … and the boots-on-the-ground, bone-crushing fatigue, pushed-beyond-all-limits work preparing the old world for its grand Transmutation.
Most people in this situation, regardless of chosen field, find themselves needing to engage Nature or some kind of Nature-benefiting practice in order to embrace and eventually transcend the challenge. Guess what? Healing our planet is priority number one, so that twist makes perfect sense, however surprising it initially appears. If you find yourself beaten down by “time” or by physical “limitations,” then I suggest you take a breath, step back, and remember the bigger picture. Refocus on where you know you’re headed; recognize how wonderful you and your world are in process of becoming; then remind yourself, “The problem is the solution.”
We’re all being rewired right now. This shift involves as much of a perspective shift as a physical one, because perspective plays such a key role in how we manifest. Mother Earth knows what she’s doing. We need to stick with her and try to trust her. In the process of regaining our intimacy with Nature, we will experience the true joy and freedom that come from remembering how to trust ourselves.
Today I had one of those afternoons that reminds me of being a little girl. I spent time with my favorite 82-year-old friend in Goshen at her lovely lakefront home. Before heading over there, I had a real flashback to childhood May Day celebrations when, for some reason, I always felt compelled to gather violets into old strawberry baskets handwoven and tied with ribbons, delivering these in the predawn hours on neighbors’ porches. This afternoon, I gathered a salad full of wild violet leaves and flowers for David and me, but then picked another bag to gift to my friend. This extra bag of edible flowers and nature’s tender “lettuce” was an even bigger hit than her requested bag of dandelion greens!
Unbeknownst to me as a little girl, May Day represents a celebration of flowers and ribbons, and Beltane’s fire festival honors the Earth in preparation for an abundant growing season. Looking out on our wild new yard today, I saw a meadow in full bloom with a harvest I didn’t plant. When we lived in Madison, we had a couple wild violet plants that barely flowered yet still allowed for occasional salad touches. We had both longed for more violets than we knew what to do with. Well! Ask and you shall receive. The below photo shows only a tiny portion of the violets currently dancing their purple and white flowers around our yard:
To my surprise, we also have the tulips I mentally requested in the dead of winter:
Squirrels or someone with a quirky sense of natural style planted tulips and daffodils in the strangest places around our property. I’ve enjoyed watching them burst into color along with the dandelions, violets and creeping Charlie. Speaking of plants responding to my mental requests, today, my 82-year-old friend gave me three blackberry canes to replant in our yard. That request only just went out! We now have blackberries working double duty as fruit bearers and bramble discouragement to people cutting through our yard. Our landlord is working on the back fence for squash and melons as I type, and tomorrow we will actually put soil into the raised beds.
This yard will take some major work to turn into the wild, permaculture, medicinal, 4-season garden, faery haven in my mind. I have spent weeks hauling mulch from huge piles into foot deep beds and hugelkultur in various spots across the yard. Mulch is freakin’ heavy!!!! This weekend, I had just begun to wonder if I am not completely off my rocker to have taken on such an ambitious project, but the colorful bursts of flowers and huge harvests of free greens have changed my tune. I remembered that I made a pact with the Spirits of the Land to honor this forgotten piece of property and love it into a productive, beautiful, healing relationship with humans. I can feel the faeries smiling. Our yard is wild, but happy right now. And so am I.
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