My breakfasts tend to be simple, toast and a bowl of fruit. This morning’s fruit was stewed dwarf blueberries (Vaccinium cespitosum) that had been picked last summer or early fall. The distinctive flavor that came with that first bite brought feelings of warmth and gratitude along with blurred impressions of that place and my experience there. I think I was a little surprised by this, and gave a moment or two to recollect the two picking trips I made (to the same place) this year, one with my dad, the other with my kids and brother.

It didn’t take long for my thoughts to turn towards the rest of the day, but that evening, spurred by the morning’s experiences, I thought I would share some memory food with my kids. We got out more of those same kind of blueberries and some whipped cream. Before we ate them, I asked them to share with me their memories of that trip to pick berries we made together with their uncle. It was interesting to hear their recollections, some things I remembered when they mentioned them, others that I didn’t recall at all. I was a little surprised at their enthusiasm in sharing their memories, though perhaps I shouldn’t have been (they are motivated by dessert), and I’m glad I felt inspired to do this with them. I shared some of my memory of that trip with them, and we enjoyed the berries and cream together.

As I write this later, it occurs to me that we also ate some seaweed we gathered during dinner. I hadn’t made the connection while we were eating, but during dinner we ended up talking about where the seaweed came from, as they were both on that gathering trip back in early April.

In the work I’ve done with 8-shields over the past several years, there have been various routines and/or practices that I have learned about where food and stories are wrapped together. I recall hearing about a hunter-gatherer group for whom the story of the hunt was as important culturally as the food that resulted from that hunt. Every year in the fall, I’ve heard about various ancestor honoring traditions, usually centered around food (often with the addition of a fire) and stories that go along with it.

In reflecting on today’s experiences, I feel like I’ve made a connection for myself (though whether I hold on to it remains to be seen). Although I grew up in a family where a significant portion of the food we ate was grown, caught, shot, or gathered, sometimes even with my participation, I do not recall consistently experiencing eating of that food linked with the story of that food, at least not in a way that stuck with me as a practice (though now that I’m thinking back, I do remember some stories going with food, at least on occasion).

I now find myself wondering about the power of eating stories instead of just food. I feel like there is probably something to be gained through this practice. Ingredients that are grown or gathered by ourselves or people we know, and the story of how it came to our plate. Food that has a connection with people or places we’ve known (or would like to), even if we don’t necessarily know the stories of those particular ingredients. I wonder how I can make stories a greater part of my meals. If you have thoughts/ideas, or your own experiences to share, please leave me a comment.

Last week I took Connor and Rowan up Indian River to do a little ibutton maintenance. Although the ground had frost on it, the air was calm and the sun was high enough to provide some warmth, so I decided to take a break and relax a little before heading back. While selecting a nice spot, I noticed some Bog Cranberries (Vaccinium oxycoccos) and picked a couple to eat and share with Connor and Rowan.

Rowan thought the berries were too sour, but for some reason she decided to pick more berries anyway. Connor and I picked a few more to eat before I realize there were probably enough berries to make it worth bagging them to take home. All three of us picked for a while, and we filled up about half of a sandwich bag, before I decided to stop and rest. I found a place to sit and nap/relax, while the kids continued to pick. I did not really expect them to keep picking for so long, but they were pretty into it, and we ended up taking home nearly enough to fill a quart-sized bag, which we plan to use for cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving.

Bog Cranberries and Lingonberries (Vaccinium vitis-idaea) are fairly common in most muskegs and Lingonberries can also be found in other open habitats. The berries have a similar appearance and taste, so they are often gathered together. Lingonberry plants are small upright leafy shrubs (hence the other common name – Low Bush Cranberry) while Bog Cranberry tends to grow as inconspicuous trailing plants with small leathery leaves (see photo at the top). Lingonberries often grow in patches with little clumps of berries on each plant (at least during a productive year). Bog Cranberries seem to grow primarily as single berries (though occasionally a couple will grow off the same stem) with a fairly dispersed distribution. As a result, during a good year, Lingonberries are much easier to pick quickly. Although there were many Lingonberry plants, we only found a few berries, so the vast majority of what we picked were Bog Cranberries. Our ‘hot spots’ consisted maybe of a couple dozen berries in a 1-2 sq. ft. patch of muskeg, so it was somewhat slow going, but an enjoyable way to spend a pleasant fall afternoon.

Strawberry harvest

It was a hazy but pleasantly warm afternoon when I rode my bike to check on a patch of feral strawberries that I found a couple of years ago (wild strawberries are in the area, but these are an escaped domestic variety) . Berries were already getting ripe three weeks ago, so I was hopeful that I would find enough to eat a few and maybe bring some home to eat later.

As I approached the patch, I could caught the sweet smell of ripe strawberries warmed and ripened by the sun of the past week. The first berries I found, I ate. Although not large, the berries were exceptionally juicy and sweet, much better than anything I’ve been able to buy in the store. Since I was little, I’ve had the tendency to eat as many as I pick, and the flavor of these berries made it easy to indulge, but that was no problem today, as the berries were abundant, and there were many more than I could possibly eat at once. I was definitely thankful I had taken a detour to grab a bag to collect them in.

No doubt I could have picked the half gallon of berries or so much quicker than the 2 hours I spent, but the peaceful surroundings invited a leisurely approach. I listened to the birds singing and insects flying as I crawled around through the bushes moving aside leaves and branches to find the red berries hiding underneath. Occasional engine noise was the only thing that interrupted the Swainson’s Thrushes, Fox Sparrows, Lincoln’s Sparrows, and warblers who were providing the music. Overall, it was a pleasant way to spend some time, and it’s hard to argue with the results.

Strawberry harvest

Strawberry harvest

Spruce tips at about the right stage for picking.

This week’s wild food required a little more preparation than previous weeks. I thought it would be nice to have some spruce tip honey, but knew that it takes long enough to make, that it would not be possible to pick and prepare on Wednesday. Connor and Rowan had a day off from school Monday, so while we were at the beach we picked a quart or so of spruce tips. Later that night I worked on making the honey. As it turned out, I cooked it for too long and ended up with a syrup/honey that was too stiff to be conveniently used. (I couldn’t even spread it with a knife.) The next day I reheated it and mixed in more water, but this time I didn’t evaporate enough of the water off and it was more the consistency of light syrup than honey.

Red Elderberry (Samcucus racemosa) in bloom.

This week the Red Elderberries (Sambucus racemosa) have been blooming, and I had a recipe for elderberry flower fritters from Janice Schofield’s book, Discovering Wild Plants that I wanted to try and it seemed like they might go well with the spruce tip honey, so the kids and I picked some flowers. (Note that many parts of Red Elderberry are poisonous, but the flowers and berries, minus the seeds, are not.)

Connor and Rowan helped pick these flowers to make fritters.

The recipe called for 4 cups of flowers, which were to be dipped in flour. We hadn’t picked quite that much, so I cut back on the batter ingredients slightly. I suspect I did not do it carefully enough and ended up with a batter that was thicker than it should have been. (This would have been easy to fix, had I done this before and realized what I needed.) As it turned out, I ran out of batter before running out of flowers, and the fritters were quite thick, consistently mostly of the bread-like fried batter.

The fritters were generally well-received, especially dipped in the spruce tip honey/syrup. Connor and Rowan said they mostly just like bread. Given the thickness of the fried batter, this is not surprising. I found the faint sour odor of the flowers an interesting part of the smell/taste mix along with the batter and spruce tip honey/syrup. Schofield says the fritters are not unlike fried clams, but that was not my experience. Perhaps with a lighter batter that allowed the flavor of the flowers a bit more room to expand, my impressions would have been different.

Elderberry fritters with spruce tip honey for dipping.

Stream Violets we picked for eating.

This week we picked Stream Violets (Viola glabella) for our wild food. Connor was a little bit over enthusiastic about his picking approach and managed to grab a fair amount of grass in with the handfuls of violets. We also ended up with a lot more stem than I might have been inclined to get, otherwise. Rowan did not want to pick at all, though in the end she did pick a couple.

Violets eaten straight by themselves have a bit of a peppery taste, but not too strong. We ate them in tacos (as an alternative to lettuce) and they worked pretty well for that.

Connor landed a Dolly Varden while fishing at Sage Beach.

Connor is especially fond of fishing and has been asking about going for quite a while. I finally got around to purchasing a fishing license today with plans to get up early with Connor to go fishing early tomorrow morning, but it was a nice evening and Connor suggested we go this evening, so I decide that would be okay.

It’s about the time of year the Dolly Varden are making their return to the sea after wintering in freshwater lakes. It is also the time when salmon fry are making their outmigration from rivers, so that provides a decent opportunity to fish for Dollies from the beach. When we arrived at Sage Beach to a falling tide, there was just enoug land showing to make it out to Sage Rock. We set up fishing from there. At first I cast a few times, then I got Connor set up and let him go. I went a short distance away and cast for a little while longer before helping Rowan.

Connor landed a Dolly Varden while fishing at Sage Beach.

Before too long, Connor had a fish. He had it on the rocks almost before I realized he even had a fish. It was not particularly large, but he was excited to catch it. He managed to get the hook out, and I did a hack-job of cleaning it. It was starting to get late, so I let Rowan cast a few more times while I cleaned, then I cast a few more times, getting one strike (but not hooking the fish) beore we packed up to go. Before leaving the beach we picked some Goose Tongue (Plantago maritima) to cook with the fish.

When we got home, I started a fire, and cooked the fish and goose tongue wrapped in foil together in the coals. The fish turned out quite tasty, but none of us cared much for the goose tongue. Connor commented that he’s liked all the greens we’ve picked and ate so far, but he didn’t like these.

Lady Fern and Fireweed before steaming for dinner.

I had a couple of different ideas in mind for this week’s Wild Food Wednesday, but in the end (lack of) time and opportunity made the decision. We picked some Fireweed (Chamerion angustifolium) and Lady Fern (Athyrium filix-femina) fiddleheads. We probably would not have picked the fiddleheads, but Rowan insisted, and it turned out to be better that she did. I did not have much time, so we only spent a little bit of time gathering, though Connor and Rowan both gathered a little bit more after I went back inside.

Rowan picks lady fern fiddleheads.

I prepared the greens by steaming and buttering them. Connor and Rowan opted to have some salt. We each tried some of both, but all found the fiddleheads to be much tastier than the fireweed. Connor is the only one who was willing claim the fireweed was tasty, but even he made a face at the aftertaste. Rowan liked the fiddleheads enough that she even wanted to have an extra bite of mine.

The fireweed was already starting to leaf out, and it may have been later than optimal for picking and eating. They really started shooting up with the warm temperatures and sun of the last week.

In light of the fact that gathering food is a good way to learn more about the place I live, I have decided to try doing a weekly post on wild foods, featuring a different one each week.

Today Connor, Rowan, and I went for a short walk to collect “wild cucumber” (aka Clasping Twistedstalk or Streptopus amplexifolius). It first comes up as a single stalk which, as it matures, the leaves open up from. When picked early enough, the stalk is tender and has a taste not unlike cucumber. As it gets older, the stem becomes stringy, though the flavor more or less remains the same. The leaves are also edible, though their taste is a little bit different.

One thing to be aware of is a poisonous plant that looks vaguely similar when young, Corn Lily (Veratrum viride). It was nice that Connor found a young Corn Lily plant so we could compare it and make sure we recognized the differences.

Corn Lily is one of a handful of exceptionally poisonous plants that are native to the Sitka area, so it is a good idea to be sure it does not get mistaken for something you plan to eat. In practice, Wild Cucumber and Corn Lily really are only superficially similar, and with some care and attention, it should be easy to tell them apart. In particular, the leaves of Corn Lily are pleated while the leaves of Wild Cucumber do not tend to be (and if they are, not nearly as much). Also, the arrangement of leaves is different, with Wild Cucumber tending to have a larger clasping leaf lower down on the stem and Corn Lily having only a small one, if at all. Once the plants are mature, they look nothing alike.

Connor ate some of the Wild Cucumber while we were picking and Rowan tried it but was unimpressed. We prepared it by chopping it up and mixing it with spinach for a green salad. Rowan found it a bit more palatable with salad dressing, but still didn’t really care for it.