Wild Greens Salad

I headed out mid winter to the apple orchards of northern CA. My goal was to gather one of the last organic heirloom apple varietals still in season, abundant wild greens, and have a healthy and delicious salad for lunch.

It wasn't long before I had enough clover, minor's lettuce, chickweed, mustard greens and dandelion greens for a personal feast. I garnished the greens with wedges of the winter apple, asiago cheese, and a homemade balsamic vinaigrette for a true gourmet treat. As one forager put it, "eat the weeds," and I most certainly do. These nutritious, abundant and free veggies should not go overlooked! Keep the old ways alive!

Summer Remembered: Hard Apple Cider

Summer was rapidly transitioning into autumn and that means one thing in my hometown, apple harvest! Though the Jonathan, Rome, and Golden Delicious organic heirloom apples were just ripening, the nationally famous Gravensteins were already on the ground. Charged with cleaning up the fallen partially fermented Gravensteins to detract yellow jackets from crashing our upcoming party, I had to shake apple after apple as intoxicated hornets fell to the ground helplessly kicking while I muttered with a chuckle “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” As I removed the bad apples it became increasingly evident that that near one third of the apples present were prime for hard cider. Now, at this point, some might be thinking “Eeeew, the apples are on the ground!” Well as my Dad once explained to me on top of a mountain in the eastern sierras during an archery deer hunt “there’s clean dirt and there’s dirty dirt! Clean dirt,…” he continued as he set his fire- grilled steak sandwich on the granitic sandy soil to prove the point, “…Clean dirt is like this, the kinda soil almost no one has set foot on in years. Dirty dirt is like what you’d find in a city ally soaked with oil, runoff, and garbage.” The sandy silty loam in our organic apple orchard is premium quality “clean dirt.” In fact it is common practice among the apple orchards here to shake the trees to ensure that the fruit reaches the dirt before pressing the juice. I borrowed my neighbors press after gathering sufficient fruit and set to work. The only thing about the apple harvest better than the sound a ripe Gravenstein makes as it falls from the tree, hits the soft ground, and bumps a pile of ripe apples, is the taste of the first glass of fresh pressed juice. I held my glass below the steady flow of the press and caught its sweet nectar. Unlike the filtered yellowish store-bought juice many are used to, this “liquid sunshine” is deep reddish brown, unfiltered, raw and wonderful! My first sip was accompanied by a flood of memories of childhood adventures playing Robin Hood or Tarzan in the trees, or even running home black and blue from high velocity projectile apples after being caught up in a local “apple war.” “The flavor,” as a good friend once put it, “is like a blend of apple, strawberry and pear, sweet to start and finishing off with a crisp tang.”

Eight gallons separated into two glass carboys in no time flat. I pitched the yeast that I had bought at our local homebrew shop, The Beverage People, put on the air locks and sat back with a content smile. An old acquaintance of mine had summed it up best “Yeast,” he said, “is a wonderful little critter. It drinks sugar, pisses alcohol, and farts CO2.” Today I was happy to have this little creature over for a visit. Two weeks later, I was delighted to see that the air lock had slowed to one bubble every thirty seconds, a clear indication that fermentation was nearly complete and it was time to bottle. At this stage I siphoned the cider away from residual sediments in the primary fermenter and poured the hard grog into a sterile second vessel. A small amount of priming sugar was added to wake the yeast up, and then the cider was siphoned into individual bottles. One must make sure that the right amount of sugar is added…too little and it will not be carbonated, too much and your bottles will explode! After this the bottles were stored at room temperature for a week while the yeast stayed alive charging the bottles with CO2. At this stage the next move is up to the home brewer. I usually chill half for drinking and sharing in its young stage and save half to age for a year.

I don’t add non-fermentable sugars to add a sweeter taste to the brew. Just juice, yeast, and a dash of priming sugar. The result is a dry and slightly tart beverage with a clear apple flavor and a high alcohol content. “It’s like apple Champagne!” my Dad commented. “More like poor man’s Champagne” my Mom added.

My girl and I are poor college students, but every time we crack a bottle of our own organic heirloom hard cider, we feel like royalty. I urge you to try it yourself, and take it from me…apples are only the tip of the iceberg. Enjoy the process, drink responsibly, and remember, keep the old ways alive! -Kevin Smith

Mussel Breakfast

On a whim we decided to head out to the coast after work. By the time we arrived it was 10pm and we could see by the light of the crescent moon that the tide was way out. Since it was winter, the safest time for shellfish harvesting, and since both Alex and I keep our fishing licenses in our wallets, we decided to do some foraging. With little more than a small crank operated LED flashlight (that retained light for 30 seconds between cranks) and a bucket, we slowly descended a trail down the cliff to our favorite mussel spot. Tide pooling is a slippery and wet endeavor even in the daytime, and we learned quickly that if we were to attempt it again at night, it would be far better to have a pair of headlamps then sharing a single crank operated pocket flashlight. In 15 minutes we had fucus sp. kelp, kombu kelp, and as many mussels as we could want. We also had both slipped into tide pools, thoroughly swamping our shoes in the cold Pacific waters.
 We were laughing pretty hard as we slowly scrambled across the slick barnacle-encrusted boulders back to the sand, but on the way, the crank on the light broke! We had planned to grill there, but in light of this new predicament we made the decision to ascend the cliff using the last bit of light in the crankless torch. It was slow going, but we made it up the sandstone cliff with ease almost entirely by feel. Traveling up an old country road to a spot we refer to as Coyote Ridge, we found a dead and well seasoned pine tree that we swiftly broke up and threw in the trunk for fire wood. Once arriving at the spot, we tried to pull off on a dirt road straddling two deep ruts…the dirt, turned out to be wet clay, and worked like liquid ball bearings. In a matter of one second, the car slipped into the ruts and was hicentered… we were stuck!
Working for an hour digging and piling rocks for traction, we finally had to face the facts; we were not getting the civic out. Right about that time, the only car we saw all night (besides the tow truck) rolled up. Two nice girls on a drive to the beach offered to take Alex down the hill to get cell phone reception. I stayed, determined to dig. After another half hour though, I accepted that the car was truly stuck; we were not just hi-centered at one point, the whole frame was resting on the mud, and my sea water and mud soaked feet were starting to get really cold in the below 30 degree winter weather.
Not knowing when Alex would be back, I made the decision to get a fire going. The flame took a while to catch in the breeze and mist, but finally the moss on the pine lit up and I added as much dry coyote brush as I could find to get a good bed of coals. My feet were finally warming up when Alex arrived. The girls wished us luck and left us with an hour wait for the tow truck... it was 1 am.
I piped up, “well, we got time, wanna grill some mussels?” Alex, as always, was down. We cooked them up and enjoyed our wood smoke and sea salt infused mussels and the warmth of the fire under the stars, laughing about the stuck car and the kindness of our new friends until the tow truck showed. He had the car out in no time flat and as the coals died we began making our way home.
Foraging is always an adventure, and that is just a part of why it is so much fun! When there is a rut in the road, don't try to drive up it...but if you get stuck, enjoy your surroundings, and always strive to keep the old ways alive! - By Kevin Smith

North Country Hills: Remembering our Roots

 

Alex Izzarelli and I grew up downhilling the countryside of rural northern California. Often, with little more than a dollar or two between us, we would make our way deep into the country armed with no more than a water bottle. With six mile hikes to the summit of our preferred network of hills, it was a great way to spend summer days.

When we were hungry, the common law of the land was that travelers were allowed an apple or two, and of course the abundant ripe, plump and sweet Himalayan blackberries offered us a tasty snack at most any creek we crossed.

When we were thirsty, most any country cottage was happy to give us a refill. Yes, it was a blast growing up foragers in this care free environment filled with great views and the freedom one only gets when they step away from cars and traffic and make their way along by foot, bike, or board. Returning, over 12 years later, Alex and I made our way along the same roads with the same wide grins of anticipation last summer. We stopped at our old patches of berries, ate apples along the orchards, skated our favorite hills and had a ton of laughs! The joy of foraging and the reality of everyday adventures is a large part of why we are who we are.

*Remember to always have a good time, take note of the little things, never take yourself too serious, and always strive to keep the old ways alive!
- By Kevin Smith

Gluten-free Abalone Spring Rolls and Thai Peanut Sauce

 

Financial aid has arrived! That was a huge relief, emotionally and monetarily. Now, for most avid foragers there are little supplies in our toolkits worth more than a good knife, nice pair of boots, a basket, and David Aurora’s mushroom books. But one category of items that I highly suggest adding to the kit is something I have also been putting off until my money came in…SPICES!!! Keep in mind that you can buy many of these in your regular supermarket chain, however, they will charge you an arm and a leg compared to buying them from your local Indian and Pakistani grocery stores…and the selection in the latter is usually ten times better! The bottom line is I am restocking our spices today, but this post is really dedicated to the exquisite meal we shared last night.

                My girl Chelsea was kind enough to spend a few dollars on Thai basil, cilantro, and a few other goodies (which I greatly appreciated as I was down to $1.86). I thawed one of last season’s abalone from our northern adventures and set to work with the knife. We tried out the new meat grinder Chelsea had given me for Christmas, and mixed the ground abalone with diced cabbage, carrot, garlic, etc. and sautéed it up in our trusty cast iron skillet. As Chelsea worked on her famous Thai peanut sauce, I began assembling the spring rolls. A foraged lemon for a little tart, cucumber and cabbage for texture, glass noodles for filler.

They were a big hit, and we were very content with our meal based around the last edible sea delicacy in the freezer. Well, this post will be brief because we have to go spearfishing now! Wish us luck!

 

And if you’re getting bored with your standard recipes, just reach out far beyond our continent, and your interest and taste buds will perk right up. Thai, Japanese, Italian, Vietnamese, and Indian are all culinary styles that incorporate wild foraged foods easily; the sky’s the limit. Blending traditionally foraged foods with traditional dishes from around the world will always keep you and your family loving the fruits of the harvest. Remember to stay creative, optimistic, enjoy the adventure, and always strive to keep the old ways alive!

Wild mushroom and Dungeness Ramen (from scratch)

 

Well I appreciate everyone sending good energy our way, but as usual, federal financial aid is late! I am now down to $1.86, but as usual, when I am the poorest, we eat the best! Today’s special was really the culmination of a few forays, and that is the subject of this post.

                Stalking the depths for fish stock- My good buddy Sam and I got out early last month. My freezer was empty and I was in full hunt mode. I made a bee line to the furthest kelp bed at a cove we refer to only as The New Spot. Locating the edge of the most productive reef, I descended through a large school of smelt and greenback mackerel slowly arching my back and leveling off 10 ft from the bottom. A very sizable sand bass lay still to my right and just as I began lining up for the shot I noticed a calico of equal proportions. Switching my focus to the latter the tension of my finger on the trigger began to increase, but soon my focus again was averted to a pair of large male California Sheephead. I let myself sink below their view, placing a large boulder between us and closing the gap while simultaneously lining up for the shot in a gap in the reef where the pair appeared to be heading. They emerged on schedule and the shot was true. This was the smaller goat of the day.

                The second fish also surprised me from the murk. I noticed him sneakily heading for a cave over my right shoulder, leaving just enough time to change the direction of my body and send a little cold steel his way. The shot was well placed behind the gill plate, but as soon as he was hit the fight went wild! Rushing into the cave, the huge goat bent the shaft of my 120cm euro gun. He then made two loops out of the cave over the top and back through, entangling the shooting line thoroughly. I could see that his wound was tearing and the spear beginning to slip and made the decision to get the backup gun, old trusty, and made a second drop. The second shot was a stone shot and he fought no more.

 

 

                That’s when I heard them and then saw them emerging from the murk with great fluidity like something out of a dream. Soon dolphins were lazily swimming all around me in an inquisitive manner, all the while singing their sweet sonar melody. I eventually smiled so big my mask flooded and I had to slowly ascend for a breath and laugh. Crossing that off my bucket list was a true pleasure! Unfortunately, the camera was not in hand, but I doubt I would have taken my eyes off of them long enough to turn on a camera even if I did have it!

                The 23lbs sheephead fed us well over the next few weeks, and upon advice from my good buddy Kirby, I cooked down the carcass into a delicious fish broth…the base for my ramen…and the base of this post.

 

Mushroom madness- It was early January on the north coast. A group of us consisting of my Dad, brother, myself and good friends Alex and Jesse made our way into the damp coastal woods. Where the conifers met huckleberry, salal berry and oak we began finding mushrooms almost immediately. It had been a very strange and late year so far and though we should have been way past when edible pig ears should be found, there they were! They were not just there, but they were freshly popping and abundant. The hedgehogs and black trumpets were few (though normally abundant this time of year), and the oysters were only out in small numbers. As usual we made off with a huge haul of yellowfoot chanterelles while barely taking a noticeable amount from the dense miniature forests of fungi. We had so many they were growing out of our ears and noses!

Mushroom hunting truly embodies the fun and wonder of seasonal foraging. Though many folks hate the rain, mushroom hunters can be regularly seen out looking up at the sky and begging for liquid sunshine. Once the rain comes, it’s off to the woods. Though the American culture is largely fungiphobic, and it is quite true that eating the wrong mushroom can certainly kill you, one can learn to positively identify many of these moist forest floor loving delicacies as long as special attention is paid to key attributes.

                Dungeness delights- You know the story…today’s treat is last night’s leftovers (read Dungeness Dinner below for more info surrounding adventures in crab harvesting).

The ramen got lots of “mmmmmm”s and that is always a good sign. Especially with a total cost of roughly $0.38 per bowl!

*As always, Countryman assumes no responsibility for those engaged in foraging activities. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WHEN HARVESTING ANY WILD EDIBLE, ESPECIALLY MUSHROOMS!

Finally, remember to enjoy the sights and smells of the sea and land, have as much fun cooking your foraged foods as you had gathering them, and always strive to keep the old ways alive!

By Kevin Smith

Dungeness Dinner

 The last morning before leaving northern California, and our vacation home, and returning back to school in southern California, my brother Justin invited me along for a dive. Our friends Greg and Vanessa had their boat ready and space for one more freediver if I was interested…which of course I was! By the time we met up with our friends they’d already dropped a few crab pots and as we suited up and stepped out onto the dock, which was covered with frost, I realized this was going to be a cold one.

                The first stop was a series of off-shore pinnacles known for sizable scallops. The seas looked calm enough when we arrived, but every one of us was dreading jumping in. After all the sun was barely on the rise and by now my feet were numb on the deck of the boat. In usual character Justin was the first in the water. “Wow!” he said aloud with a surprised smile, “the water is really warm!” We all hung over the pontoon of the inflatable with wide eyes and grinning. “Really?” I said excitedly. “NO!” Justin replied with a chuckle. We were all laughing pretty hard by now. Of course it wasn’t going to be warm; it was January on the north coast! It turned out to be 48° F.

                A huge wall of white water lifted Greg and me high above the exposed pinnacles and dropping us back down only minutes after leaving the boat. There was a moment on the rapid decent that I accessed my memory, wondering if I had seen any indication of rock below us. My mind drew a blank, and luckily there was nothing but 60ft deep water below…because as fast as we were falling, that would have hurt! Greg and I looked at each other and then back at the frothing swirls of whitewater currents writhing and enveloping all of the wash rocks that lay before us. My brother was already diving on one, disappearing into the turbulent and heavily aerated waters below. Another 12 ft swell of white water came rushing through lifting us high, this time all Greg and I could do was burst into laughter…it was good to be home! Justin pulled two nice scallops at this spot, many good fish were taken at the next spot, and as we pulled the crab pots we were rewarded with 24 legal crabs. A truly great day on the water!

  Back in southern California, I, like most college students, was having issues with the disbursement of my federal financial aid. It had been raining hard which was not so good for finding archaeological fieldwork, and all the firms I had contacted gave me the same reply, things were very slow. Checking the $30.26 in my account I realized that now was exactly the type of situation that made me proud to be a forager. I just hope the money comes in by the time rent is due! Though rent was dependent on college disbursement, I knew that I could be proactive in provide meals fit for royalty…and on a budget. The first night was freshly speared lingcod fish tacos (thanks to my brother’s generous fillet). For lunch the following day I made a batch of ramen from scratch using freshly made sheephead fish stock (on recommendation from my buddy Kirby) and a handful of black trumpet and yellowfoot mushrooms we had gathered and dried recently. Finally last night it was herb and garlic broiled Dungeness crab (thank you Greg and Vanessa) with a side of mashed potatoes and a total cost of $0.78 per plate. I even foraged the lemon and the rosemary; it’s nice to have supportive neighbors!

 

 

 Keep your fingers crossed that my financial aid comes soon…but in the meantime the last abalone of last season is beckoning to be transformed into spring rolls! Remember to always enjoy the act of harvesting, harvest ethically and sustainably, and always strive to keep the old ways alive!- By Kevin Smith