The Knobbly Plate

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nettles

Wild Garlic and Nettle Pakoras

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In the dappled light of early spring, the forest floor comes alive with the vibrant green of new life. Among the soft carpets of moss and leaf-littered paths, young nettles rise—tender and vivid, their sting still fierce but their flavour at its peak. Nearby, the last of the wild garlic lingers, its long, elegant leaves tapering like whispers of the season that’s beginning to turn. The air hums gently with the earthy scent of wet soil and the faint garlicky aroma that signals this forager’s treasure.

Gathering nettles requires care—gloves to ward off their sting and a patient hand to pluck the topmost, youngest leaves. These are the softest, full of the green vigour that makes them perfect for cooking. The wild garlic, growing in shaded clusters, is just starting to fade, its leaves broad and deep green, carrying that unmistakable pungency. Together, they form a wild, seasonal pairing that captures the very essence of spring’s fleeting energy.

Back in the kitchen, these humble greens are transformed into an Indian-inspired snack that bursts with flavour and texture—pakoras. The nettles are quickly blanched, taming their sting while preserving their earthy, mineral-rich taste. The wild garlic is chopped finely, lending its bold notes to the mix. Into a bowl they go, combined with gram flour, chopped onions, green chilli, cumin seeds, and a scattering of fresh coriander. A touch of turmeric gives the batter a golden hue, while a squeeze of lemon lifts the flavours.

The mixture, thick and spoonable, is dropped into hot oil, sizzling into crisp, craggy fritters. Each pakora emerges with a delicate crunch, the inside steaming and soft, the greens melting into every bite. The nettles bring a grassy depth, while the wild garlic infuses the fritters with warmth and pungency.

Served with a cooling mint yogurt or tangy tamarind chutney, these pakoras are more than a snack—they are a celebration of the land’s first gifts, a nod to traditional Indian flavours, and a moment of culinary alchemy. Foraged with care and cooked with intention, they embody the spirit of spring: fresh, fleeting, and absolutely unforgettable.

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Wild Garlic and Nettle Pakoras
Author: 
Recipe type: Foraged
Cuisine: British
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 20-25
 
Ingredients
  • 260 g chickpea flour (gram flour)
  • 2 tsp sesame seeds
  • 1 tsp turmeric
  • 1 tsp red chilli powder
  • 1 large pinch of asafoetida
  • 1 large pinch of baking powder
  • 1 tsp sea salt
  • 2 tsp cumin seeds, ground
  • 2 tsp coriander seeds, ground
  • 1-2 green chillies Handful three-cornered leek (or wild garlic)
  • 100 g nettle tops
  • 250 ml water
  • 500-1000 ml vegetable oil
Instructions
  1. In a large mixing bowl, combine the chickpea flour, sesame seeds, turmeric, chilli powder, asafoetida, baking powder and salt.
  2. Freshly grind the cumin and coriander seeds and add to the mix.
  3. Finely chop and deseed the green chillies and add in, combining well.
  4. Next, wash and chop the three cornered leek and stir in.
  5. Wash and roughly chop the nettles; use wooden spoons to move them around and cut with scissors.
  6. Gradually add two thirds of the water. Allow the mixture to rest. Check the consistency, you’re wanting a wet batter, though not watery. Add the rest of the water if necessary.
  7. Prepare a couple of large plates with absorbent paper kitchen towel on (I didn't have any so just placed them on a dry plate).
  8. Heat the oil over a medium to high heat in a large pan or deep fat fryer - I used a wok and turned them to cook both sides.
  9. Test to see if the oil if ready by dropping a small amount of batter into the oil. If the oil is hot enough the mixture will sink to the bottom then float straight to the top again.
  10. Using 2 teaspoons, shape the mixture into firm balls, each about the size of a very heaped teaspoon.
  11. Fry each pakora for 3-5 minutes, turning if needed or until golden brown, remove with a slotted spoon and place on the kitchen towel.

 

Fresh Foraged Nettle Tagliatelle

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There’s something quietly magical about foraging for fresh young nettles in the golden hush of early spring. The earth is just beginning to stir from its winter slumber, and with the first blush of sunshine, tender green shoots begin to peek through the undergrowth. It’s the perfect time to wander through woodlands or along quiet country paths, fingers brushing over wild herbs and weeds, basket in hand, eyes alert for the unmistakable deep green of new nettles.

Gloves are a must, of course—nettles sting, even when they’re young—but there’s something deeply grounding in this ritual. It connects you to the season, to the land, to something older than any supermarket shelf. These early nettles are vibrant with nutrients, fresh and peppery in flavor, and once you blanch them, their sting softens into silk.

Back home, the transformation begins. Blanched nettles are wrung out, chopped fine, and kneaded into fresh pasta dough. The green stains your hands as you work, and the scent of fresh earth lingers in the air. Rolled and cut into delicate tagliatelle ribbons, the pasta takes on a soft, mossy hue—nature’s own color palette.

Boiled for just a moment and tossed with lemon zest, a pat of butter, or maybe some garlic and pecorino, nettle tagliatelle is a celebration of spring on a plate. It tastes of renewal, of simplicity, of wild things tamed just enough to nourish.

The joy isn’t just in the eating—it’s in the gathering, the making, the quiet hours spent in sunlight and steam. Foraging nettles in spring is not just about food, but about rhythm, presence, and the delicious satisfaction of coaxing a feast from the forest floor.


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Fresh Foraged Nettle Tagliatelle
Author: 
Recipe type: Vegan
Cuisine: British Foraged Recipe
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 4 persons
 
Ingredients
  • 10 ounces all-purpose flour,
  • about 2 heaping cups

4½ ounces blanched nettles or spinach, about a cup
Instructions
  1. Depending on how old your nettles are, you will need two or three big tong-fulls of fresh nettles to get your 4 ounces. I say tong-fulls because you do not want to pick up fresh nettles, as they will sting you. Thus the name. Get a huge pot of water boiling and add a handful of salt. Grab the nettles with tongs and put them into the boiling water. Stir around and boil for 1 to 3 minutes, depending on how old they are. Fish them out with a skimmer or the tongs and immediately dump them into a big bowl with ice water in it. Once they are cool, put them in a colander to strain.
  2. Remove any thick stems. Chop the nettles roughly. Puree the nettles with a little water in a blender. When you are done, add a little water into the bowl of the blender to help clean it out, but save the water -- you might need this "nettle water" if your dough is not moist enough.
  3. Put the flour in a large bowl and make a well in the center. Add the nettle puree and gradually incorporate it into the flour until you get a shaggy mass. If it's too stiff add a little of the nettle water. Start folding the dough over itself until it comes together, then begin kneading. This is a medium strength dough, so you’ll need to knead for 5 to 8 minutes.
  4. Cover the dough with a thin film of olive oil and wrap in plastic. Let it sit for an hour.
  5. Cut off a piece of the dough and roll it out in a pasta machine. How thick? Your choice. But the traditional width for strettine is relatively thick, about a little less than ⅛ inch. This corresponds to No. 5 on my machine, which is an Atlas.
  6. Once you have your sheet of pasta, you can cut it with the wide tines on your pasta cutter. That’s easy, but the real noodles are a little narrower. To hand cut your noodles, make sure the sheet is supple and cool, not sticky. If it is sticky, dust with a little flour and smooth it over the surface with your hand. Loosely roll the dough sheet up so that the slices you are about to make form long pasta. Using a sharp (it must be sharp, or you will be in trouble!) chef’s knife, cleaver or other large blade, slice the loose roll at intervals somewhere between ⅛ and ¼ inches. Lay the pasta on the counter or board with some flour dusted on them. Repeat with the rest of the dough.
  7. After every little batch, pick up the previous one that had been drying and give it a slight twist, making it into a loose nest. This makes for easier storage. The strettine will sit like this for up to a day. Boil in lots of salty water until they float, and then for another minute or two.

 

Fresh Foraged Wild Nettle Pesto

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There’s something deeply satisfying—almost primal—about foraging for your own food on an early sunny spring day. The air is crisp, kissed by the scent of damp earth and new blooms, while golden sunlight filters through the young leaves above, dappling the ground in warm patches. Birds chatter overhead as you crouch down, brushing aside tufts of moss or tall blades of grass, eyes scanning for nature’s hidden treasures: wild garlic, dandelion greens, tender nettles, or violet petals.

Each find feels like a secret whispered from the land—gifts tucked away in plain sight. There’s a peaceful rhythm to it: the slow walk, the careful picking, the light rustle of your gathering bag. And when you lift your face to the sun, hands stained green and heart light, there’s a quiet sense of abundance that no grocery store can match. The food is free, yes—but more than that, it’s alive. It connects you to the season, to the land, to something older and wiser than modern convenience.

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Later, in your kitchen, that same wild garlic becomes a vibrant pesto, spooned over crusty bread or tossed with warm pasta. Nettles turn into a silky soup, full of iron and freshness. These meals are simple, but rich in flavor and story. You can taste the spring sun, feel the joy of discovery, and remember the gentle rustle of wind through budding trees. Foraging turns nourishment into a celebration—of health, of the earth, and of our place within it. It’s not just food; it’s a reminder that the best things in life are often the simplest, waiting quietly just beyond the path.

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Fresh Foraged Wild Nettle Pesto
Author: 
Recipe type: Vegan
Cuisine: Foraged food
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 6 persons
 
Fresh made early spring wild nettle pesto
Ingredients
  • cups (loosely packed) fresh nettle leaves - be careful; always use gloves or tongs when handling nettle; it stings!
  • 1 garlic clove, chopped
  • ⅓ cup toasted almonds*
  • 1 tbsp white miso
  • 1½ tbsp lemon juice, or more to taste
  • 2 tbsp nutritional yeast, or more to taste
  • ⅓ cup extra-virgin olive oil
  • Sea salt, to taste
  • 1-2 tbsp water
  • Optional: chili flakes
Instructions
  1. Always use gloves or tongs when handling fresh nettle - if you touch it with bare hands, it will sting and you will feel its effect for a few hours.
  2. Wearing gloves, wash the nettle under running water. In a food processor, combine the nettle, garlic, toasted almonds, miso, lemon juice (start with 1½ tablespoons) and nutritional yeast. Blend to combine.
  3. With the food processor running, drizzle in the olive oil. Stop the machine to scrape down the sides as needed. Add water, one tablespoon at a time and continue blending until you get a creamy texture. Taste and add salt, more lemon juice and/or chili flakes if necessary until it’s flavourful and well balanced. Serve with pasta, in a sandwich, as a dip, etc.