Nettles
I went stinging nettle harvesting yesterday.
It was wonderful. Tramping through the tamed wilderness that is state parks in Portland. The place we went was less than 20 minutes from my house, with trampled down paths regularly traversed by every sort of person. In order to get to the best patches of nettles, we had to leave the trails. I can not TELL you how terribly satisfying it was to do so. Every now and then I'd catch myself looking around furtively, 50ft from the trail and bent over a downed tree, yanking tender young green things from the earth with my hands encased in black leather gloves, hearing voices in the distance coming closer, and debating hiding behind the stump. People walking past (and there were many) would look at us askance, shocked at our brazen breaking the unwritten (and sometimes written) law of STAYING ON THE PATH.
One set of ladies dared to call me on it, looking at me knowingly and asking if I was picking moss. I held out my plastic grocery bag full of prickly little leaves and stems, wide open, and said "Nope. Cleaning up invasive species. Nettles, you know." They nodded knowingly and said "Good for you!", though one of them did say "Can't you... eat those?". "Well, yes. But still, nasty little prickly buggers, aren't they?", I replied. And that was enough to send them on their way, sans lecturing me on the importance of maintaining paths.
Nettles make you work really, really hard for their goodness. Picking them is hard enough. My arms and fingers were covered with little blistery bites, and that was with gloves and long sleeves. The poison in their stings is the same as fire ants, and it hurts like a motherfucker. That shit STINGS, and sticks with you for a good 30min, at least.
So, getting them out of the ground is a pain. But once you have them, the work isn't over. You have to blanch them, and process them. In order to do so, you have to handle a sink full of them, cleaning them and trimming any extra stock you pulled. Only the smallest shoots or the tips are really good. Plastic gloves work well, but make sure you have long sleeves you don't mind getting wet. My arms are once again covered in welts tonight.
In the end, they're worth it. Boiled in salty water for 30 seconds, drained, then dumped in an ice bath, they float like wispy emerald strings. There is nothing so green in this world. And there is something about this green, that you've harvested and fought and cleaned and bled for yourself, that feeds your soul.
Also? REALLY fucking tasty. I had some tonight for dinner, in a simple cream sauce served over gnocchis. Amazing. Pure springtime, condensed into a mineral and vitamin packed tasty bit of green.
It was wonderful. Tramping through the tamed wilderness that is state parks in Portland. The place we went was less than 20 minutes from my house, with trampled down paths regularly traversed by every sort of person. In order to get to the best patches of nettles, we had to leave the trails. I can not TELL you how terribly satisfying it was to do so. Every now and then I'd catch myself looking around furtively, 50ft from the trail and bent over a downed tree, yanking tender young green things from the earth with my hands encased in black leather gloves, hearing voices in the distance coming closer, and debating hiding behind the stump. People walking past (and there were many) would look at us askance, shocked at our brazen breaking the unwritten (and sometimes written) law of STAYING ON THE PATH.
One set of ladies dared to call me on it, looking at me knowingly and asking if I was picking moss. I held out my plastic grocery bag full of prickly little leaves and stems, wide open, and said "Nope. Cleaning up invasive species. Nettles, you know." They nodded knowingly and said "Good for you!", though one of them did say "Can't you... eat those?". "Well, yes. But still, nasty little prickly buggers, aren't they?", I replied. And that was enough to send them on their way, sans lecturing me on the importance of maintaining paths.
Nettles make you work really, really hard for their goodness. Picking them is hard enough. My arms and fingers were covered with little blistery bites, and that was with gloves and long sleeves. The poison in their stings is the same as fire ants, and it hurts like a motherfucker. That shit STINGS, and sticks with you for a good 30min, at least.
So, getting them out of the ground is a pain. But once you have them, the work isn't over. You have to blanch them, and process them. In order to do so, you have to handle a sink full of them, cleaning them and trimming any extra stock you pulled. Only the smallest shoots or the tips are really good. Plastic gloves work well, but make sure you have long sleeves you don't mind getting wet. My arms are once again covered in welts tonight.
In the end, they're worth it. Boiled in salty water for 30 seconds, drained, then dumped in an ice bath, they float like wispy emerald strings. There is nothing so green in this world. And there is something about this green, that you've harvested and fought and cleaned and bled for yourself, that feeds your soul.
Also? REALLY fucking tasty. I had some tonight for dinner, in a simple cream sauce served over gnocchis. Amazing. Pure springtime, condensed into a mineral and vitamin packed tasty bit of green.
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