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Country diary: A cousin of the carrot with roastable roots | Michael White
Cranbrook, Kent: There’s a bounty of choice at the moment for the hungry forager, but it’s the alexanders that I’ve really got my eye onThe sun is warm on my back. Above the hedge, a flash of yellow draws my gaze to a brimstone butterfly, resplendent in the morning light. For me, this little insect is the herald of spring proper, and I savour the joy of this sighting among the season’s first warm embrace.The butterfly and I have come to this picturesque spot for the same reason: food. My tongue being neither long nor thin enough to enjoy the early nectar, I turn my attention to the wild bounty around me – dandelion, common sorrel, lady’s smock and stinging nettle. Already the goosegrass is scaling the hawthorn hedge and, down in a ditch, emerald shoots of reedmace are erupting from the blackened ooze. Foraging can be a laborious business at times, but in spring, it’s more convenient than a trip to the supermarket – although another glimpse of brimstone reminds me that I am not the only creature feeding here, and I must only take my small share. Continue reading...
Cranbrook, Kent: There’s a bounty of choice at the moment for the hungry forager, but it’s the alexanders that I’ve really got my eye on
The sun is warm on my back. Above the hedge, a flash of yellow draws my gaze to a brimstone butterfly, resplendent in the morning light. For me, this little insect is the herald of spring proper, and I savour the joy of this sighting among the season’s first warm embrace.
The butterfly and I have come to this picturesque spot for the same reason: food. My tongue being neither long nor thin enough to enjoy the early nectar, I turn my attention to the wild bounty around me – dandelion, common sorrel, lady’s smock and stinging nettle. Already the goosegrass is scaling the hawthorn hedge and, down in a ditch, emerald shoots of reedmace are erupting from the blackened ooze. Foraging can be a laborious business at times, but in spring, it’s more convenient than a trip to the supermarket – although another glimpse of brimstone reminds me that I am not the only creature feeding here, and I must only take my small share. Continue reading...
