The Knobbly Plate

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Foraged

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.

 

Foraged Sea Beet, Wild Garlic and Mushroom Quiche

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This morning, the air was rich with the scent of salt and new blossoms, as I wandered down to the coastline and through the woods beyond, foraging in the cool hush of late spring. The sun had just begun to warm the earth, casting golden light across the hedgerows and pathways. Wild garlic flourished in shady patches, its white star-like flowers brightening the undergrowth, its scent heady and fresh beneath my fingers. Closer to the sea, the glossy green leaves of sea beet caught the light, clustered like leafy jewels in crevices by the dunes, their briny tang a whisper of the ocean.

The simple joy of gathering food from the wild, each leaf and stem carefully chosen, brought a grounded sense of contentment. I moved slowly, with purpose, breathing in the clean spring air, alive with birdsong and the distant rush of waves. It felt good to be part of the season’s rhythm, attuned to its subtleties.

Back home, the afternoon ripened into gentle warmth. I set about preparing a quiche—something light and earthy to match the day’s quiet beauty. I began by gently sautéing wild mushrooms, their aroma deep and woodsy, like the forest floor after rain. Into the pan went the chopped wild garlic and sea beet, their greens wilting and melding into the mushrooms, creating a filling both vivid and fragrant.

I poured the mixture into a buttery shortcrust base, added a creamy custard of eggs and a touch of cream, seasoned simply with salt, pepper, and a hint of nutmeg. As the quiche baked, the scent filled the kitchen—rich, herbal, and inviting.

By late afternoon, the quiche had cooled slightly, the custard set to a tender wobble, the crust golden and crisp. The first bite was everything I’d hoped for—earthy, garlicky, with a subtle sweetness from the sea beet and the umami depth of the mushrooms. Every mouthful tasted of the morning’s walk, the hush of woodland paths, the hush of tide and wind.

It was a perfect meal for the season—humble, nourishing, and rooted in the beauty of the land. A celebration of spring, shared with the light and birdsong of a fading, beautiful day.

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Foraged Sea Beet, Wild Garlic and Mushroom Quiche
Author: 
Recipe type: British Foraged Vegetarian
Cuisine: British
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 6 persons
 
Ingredients
  • For the pastry:
  • * 250 g spelt flour or regular flour
  • * 1 teaspoon sea salt
  • * 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves, roughly chopped
  • * 125 g unsalted butter, cold from the fridge, cubed (plus more to grease the quiche form)
  • * 4-5 tablespoons ice-cold water
  • * 1 egg, lightly beaten (for coating the pastry crust)
  • For the filling:
  • * 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • * 2 shallots, finely diced
  • * 75 g cremini mushrooms thinly sliced
  • * 75 g oyster mushrooms, torn into bite sized pieces
  • * Bunch of sea beet (about 50 g)
  • * leaves from two sprigs of thyme
  • * 4 medium eggs
  • * 350 ml milk (whole or unsweetened plant-based such as soy – your choice)
  • * Sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
  • * 150 g Gruyère cheese, grated, plus extra for topping
  • * 1 bunch wild garlic, trimmed and chopped (about 50 g)
Instructions
  1. For the quiche base:
  2. 1. To prepare the dough using a food processor pulse together the flour, salt and thyme until combined. Then add the butter and pulse until you have a rough breadcrumb consistency. Finally, add the water, a little at a time, pulsing, until the mixture forms a dough.
To prepare the dough by hand: in a large mixing bowl, combine the flour salt and thyme. Add the butter and using your fingers, rub into the flour mixture until you have a rough breadcrumb consistency. Add a little water and mix together until mixture forms a dough.
  3. Shape the dough into a disc and wrap in plastic wrap; refrigerate for at least 30 minutes (until firm).
  4. Meanwhile, grease a 24 cm tart pan with removable bottom.
  5. Once the pastry is chilled, roll it out on a floured surface into a large disc (3 mm) that is just wider than the tart pan. Lay the dough over the tart pan and push the pastry into the edges of the pan with your fingers, then transfer it back to the fridge to cool for another 10 minutes.
  6. Meanwhile, heat the oven to 410°F / 210°C (fan-assisted 190°C).
  7. Prick the base of the pastry with a fork, line with baking paper, and fill with pastry weights or dried beans/rice. Bake for 15 minutes, then remove from the oven, and lift out the beans and baking paper.
  8. Brush the pastry with a little beaten egg and return to the oven for 10-15 minutes. Set aside to cool. Note: If the edges of the pastry are overlapping the pan, you can trim them with a sharp knife before you add the filling.
  9. For the quiche filling:
  10. Meanwhile, make the filling. In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat, add the shallots and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the mushrooms, increase heat slightly and cook for 7-8 minutes, until softened and lightly browned. Transfer to a plate and set aside to cool.
  11. Break the eggs into a large bowl and beat well. Pour in the milk, add the grated cheese, a good pinch of salt and pepper, and mix to combine.
  12. Once the mushrooms are cool, fold them into the egg mixture, add the wild garlic and sea beet and mix well.
  13. Place the tart pan on a rimmed baking sheet (to catch any run-off or leaks). Pour the filling into the pastry case and spread into an even layer. Finally, top with a generous layer of grated cheese.
  14. Transfer the tart to the already preheated oven and bake for 30-35 minutes, until golden and just set. Remove to a rack and let stand for 10 minutes; remove the sides and the pan, slice and serve. Enjoy served warm or at room temperature.

 

Fresh Springtime Wild Sorrel Soup

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Wild sorrel, with its arrow-shaped leaves and vibrant green hue, is a forager’s treasure that brings a zesty brightness to any dish. Its flavour is immediately striking—tangy, lemony, and refreshingly tart, like a burst of citrus on the tongue. There’s a crisp, green edge to it, reminiscent of young spinach but laced with a sharper, more vivacious acidity that wakes up the palate. This natural sourness comes from oxalic acid, which gives sorrel its signature bite, not unlike the zest of rhubarb or the tang of green apples.

When cooked into soup, sorrel transforms. The raw leaf’s brightness mellows into a silken, earthy depth, but the lemony undertone remains, lending the dish a gentle sharpness that cuts through creamy bases beautifully. It adds complexity without heaviness—a vibrant note that dances across the taste buds. Imagine the grassy warmth of spring, kissed by a hint of citrus rain. The soup gains an almost velvet-like texture when pureed, while the sorrel’s acidity balances rich ingredients like potatoes, leeks, or a splash of cream.

In this way, sorrel acts both as a bold flavour and a subtle enhancer. It awakens the senses, conjuring images of dew-covered meadows and forest clearings. There’s something wild and ancient in its taste—primal, clean, and invigorating. It’s a reminder that food from the earth can be both nourishing and thrilling, with a taste that sings of nature’s own pantry. Wild sorrel soup, therefore, is more than a dish; it’s a sip of spring’s essence, wrapped in the comforting warmth of a rustic meal. 

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Fresh Springtime Wild Sorrel Soup
Author: 
Recipe type: Foraged
Cuisine: British
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 6 persons
 
Ingredients
  • Soup Base
  • 1 small onion or leek (white part), chopped (1/2 cup)
  • 1 Tbs. butter or olive oil
1 small clove garlic, minced
  • 1 medium baking potato or ½ lb. (8 oz.) Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and diced
  • 
3 cups water or broth
  • Sorrel Paste
  • 
4 cups sorrel leaves (3 oz./90 g.), stems trimmed
  • 2 Tbs. (1 oz./30 g.) softened butter or olive oil
Instructions
  1. Sauce the onion or leek in butter or olive oil in a medium saucepan 3 to 4 minutes, or until softened.
  2. Stir in the garlic, then add the potato and water.
  3. Season with salt and pepper.
  4. Cover, and simmer 20 to 25 minutes, or until the potato pieces are very soft.
Meanwhile make the Sorrel Paste.
  5. Pulse the sorrel leaves in a food processor until finely chopped.
  6. Add the butter or olive oil, and process until a smooth paste forms.
Puree the soup with an immersion blender until smooth, then stir in the sorrel paste.
  7. Adjust seasonings, and serve hot or cold.
  8. Alternately, add the soup directly to the sorrel paste in the food processor, and blend everything until smooth.
  9. Adjust seasonings, and reheat, if necessary.

 

Foraged Palestinian Sautéed Common Mallow

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Along the winding edge of a quiet woodland path, I found myself drawn to the soft, sprawling presence of common mallow. It grew in loose, cheerful patches, its round, gently crinkled leaves lifting toward the light like open palms. The green was vivid yet somehow muted under the shifting shadows of the trees, giving the plants an earthy, lived-in beauty that only wild things seem to carry.

The mallow leaves were tender to the touch, with a slight fuzz that clung warmly to my fingers as I plucked a handful. They had an almost unassuming, homey look about them, their small, pale lilac flowers tucked shyly between the foliage. Holding a leaf to my mouth, I tasted it — mild, almost blank, offering little more than a faint, green freshness. It’s not the kind of plant that demands attention with bold or bitter notes. Instead, it waits quietly, a canvas for whatever flavours you choose to lay upon it.

Later, in the kitchen, I tossed the mallow into a heavy pan along with garlic, lemon, and a fistful of wild herbs. As the leaves wilted in the gentle heat, they softened into a silky, lush texture, drinking in the rich scents around them. They became a vessel for the meal’s essence, each bite carrying the sharpness of garlic, the brightness of citrus, the deep, resinous snap of rosemary. It was as though the mallow had surrendered itself completely to the surrounding flavours, giving them a new, tender place to bloom.

There’s a kind of magic in these humble greens — not in their taste, but in their willing transformation. Along the path, they stood as quiet witnesses to the passage of the seasons, thriving without fuss in the margins where the wild world meets the wandering human heart. And in the pan, they became something greater than themselves, a bridge between the forest’s edge and the comforts of a warm, fragrant meal. As I ate, I thought of the path, the whisper of wind in the leaves, and the quiet gift the mallow had offered — a soft, green memory stitched into every mouthful.

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Foraged Palastinian Sautéed Common Mallow
Author: 
Recipe type: Vegan/vegetarian
Cuisine: British Foraged
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 4 persons
 
Ingredients
  • ½ Tb Olive oil
  • 2 cups Common mallow , roughly chopped
  • Pinch of Salt and black pepper
  • 1 Small onion, thinly sliced
  • 4 Garlic cloves crushed
  • 1 Lemon
Instructions
  1. Heat a skillet on a medium heat, add olive oil.
  2. Add the onion& garlic and sauté for 2-3 minutes.
  3. Add the common mallow leaves, toss the leaves, add salt and pepper
  4. Add a squeeze of lemon , and serve immediately. Refrigerate any leftovers for couple of days only.

 

Delicious Warm, Foraged, Wild Garlic Bread

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Nestled in the heart of spring, this wild garlic bread is a celebration of the season’s most vibrant offering. Hand-foraged from lush, shaded woodlands, the wild garlic infuses the loaf with its unmistakable aroma — fresh, earthy, and gently pungent — a natural perfume that fills the kitchen as it bakes. The leaves, chopped finely and folded generously into a soft, enriched dough, create vivid green marbling throughout each slice, offering both beauty and bold flavor.

Golden and crisp on the outside, the crust cracks gently under the pressure of your fingers, giving way to a pillowy interior, tender and steaming when torn apart. The scent intensifies as the loaf is broken open, releasing warm notes of garlic, yeast, and a whisper of butter. It’s the kind of bread that begs to be shared — laid in the center of the table, still warm, with pieces pulled off and passed around, fingers brushing, laughter mingling with the sound of crust tearing.

Each bite is a textural delight — the contrast of crunchy crust and airy crumb, punctuated by the mellow, green sharpness of wild garlic. There’s a rustic charm to it, a reminder of barefoot walks through damp meadows and baskets filled with wild greens. Delicious on its own or dipped into olive oil, slathered with salted butter, or paired with soft cheeses, it transforms the simplest meal into something memorable.

This bread isn’t just baked — it’s gathered, kneaded, and loved into life. It’s wild and soulful, a reminder of the bounty just beyond our doors, and of the quiet magic found in the act of sharing food made with our hands and the gifts of nature.

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Delicious Warm, Foraged, Wild Garlic Bread
Author: 
Recipe type: Foraged
Cuisine: British Woodland Food
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 6
 
Ingredients
  • DOUGH
  • * 750 g wheat flour
  • * 400 ml water, lukewarm
  • * 1 tsp sugar
  • * 42 g fresh yeast, corresponds to 1 cube
  • * 2 tsp salt
  • * 5 tbsp olive oil
  • WILD GARLIC BUTTER
  • * 200 g vegan butter, soft
  • * 40 g wild garlic
  • * ¼ tsp salt
Instructions
  1. * For the dough, first mix the lukewarm water (only around 35-40 degrees Celsius) and the sugar. Crumble in the yeast and dissolve by stirring. Let stand in a warm place for about 5-10 minutes to activate the yeast.
  2. * Put the flour and salt in a bowl. Add the yeast mixture and olive oil and knead everything into a smooth dough for a few minutes. Shape the finished dough into a large ball. Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and let the dough rise in a warm place for at least 1 hour. Now also prepare the wild garlic butter or put it out of the refrigerator so that it can become soft.
  3. * Roll out the dough into a long rectangle on a floured work surface and brush with ¾ of the soft wild garlic butter. Halve the rectangle from the short side. Then cut from the long side into strips approx. 5-6 cm thick and roll them up. Don't worry, you don't have to work exact here. Place the dough rolls close together in a greased springform pan (we use one with a diameter of 21 cm). Below you can find pictures of these steps.
  4. * Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Since springform pans are usually not completely tight, place a pan underneath in the oven to catch any melting fat. Bake the wild garlic bread for about 40-45 minutes until the crust is lightly brown and crispy. Brush the bread with the rest of the wild garlic butter and bake for another 5 minutes.
  5. * Take out of the oven and let cool down before cutting.
  6. WILD GARLIC BUTTER
  7. * Wash wild garlic and spin dry. Roughly cut into small pieces with a knife.
  8. * Mix the wild garlic, salt and the softened butter (in small pieces) either in a tall, narrow container with a hand blender or in a food processor. Like this it can be used for the recipe.
  9. * If you make more butter and want to keep it: put the vegan wild garlic butter in a clean container or form a roll in cling film. The wild garlic butter can be kept in the fridge for at least 1-2 weeks. But it can also be frozen wonderfully.

 

Classic Foraged Early Springtime Stinging Nettle Soup

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A classic bowl of foraged springtime stinging nettle soup is a celebration of the season’s earliest green gifts — wild, vivid, and nourishing. Emerging just as winter’s grip loosens, young stinging nettles (Urtica dioica) are among the first wild edibles to carpet forest floors and hedgerows. Gathered with care (and gloves!), their tender tops are packed with vitamins A, C, and iron, making them a staple for revitalizing springtime fare.

The soup begins simply. In a pot, onions and leeks are softened in butter or olive oil until sweet and golden. A couple of garlic cloves follow, just kissed by heat to release their aroma. Potatoes, diced small, are added next to lend body and creaminess. After a few stirs, vegetable or chicken stock is poured in, and the pot simmers until the potatoes yield easily to a fork.

Now, the star ingredient: fresh nettles, washed and stripped from their stems. The sting disappears within seconds of cooking, replaced by a deep green earthiness that’s somewhere between spinach and sorrel. They’re wilted briefly in the broth, their color bright and life-affirming.

A quick blend transforms everything into a velvety, emerald-hued soup. A swirl of cream or a spoonful of yogurt can soften its wild edge, and a grating of nutmeg or a squeeze of lemon sharpens it into balance. Some prefer it rustic, others pass it through a sieve for silkiness.

Served hot with crusty bread or a poached egg on top, this nettle soup is more than a meal — it’s a rite of spring, a connection to land and season. Each spoonful tastes of renewal, reminding us of the richness that comes from the wild, the overlooked, and the patiently gathered.

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Classic Foraged Early Springtime Stinging Nettle Soup
Author: 
Recipe type: Vegetarian
Cuisine: Foraged
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 4 persons
 
A classic recipe for an early springtime recipe for stinging nettle soup
Ingredients
  • * 4 cups vegetable stock
  • * ½ cup heavy cream
  • * 2 cups diced peeled russet potato, roughly 1 large potato
  • * 2 cups diced leeks
  • * 2 medium sized shallots diced small
  • * 1 small yellow onion diced
  • * 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • * 1 cup diced celery
  • * Kosher salt to taste
  • * White pepper to taste
  • * 8 oz stinging nettles or roughly half a paper grocery bag full This should yield about 1 heaping packed cup after blanching, shocking and mincing.
Instructions
  1. * Harvest fresh nettles in the spring about 4-5 inches tall.
  2. * Wash the nettles in a sink of cold water, then dry them.
  3. * Working in batches in a large pot fitted with a steamer basket, steam the nettles until completely wilted. This should take about 2 minutes. Cool the nettles. Note that you can also add the nettles directly to the blender or soup raw for a stronger flavor.
  4. * Squeeze the nettles of excess water, chop finely and reserve. If you're more comfortable blanching nettles put 2-3 quarts of water in a large pot, along with 2 tablespoons of salt and bring to a boil, adding the nettles and cooking for 30 seconds.
  5. * Remove the nettles leaves and stems to a tray, spread them out and cool naturally.
  6. * Remove a handful of nettles and finely chop them to add after the soup is pureed.
  7. Finishing and serving
  8. * Crème fraiche
  9. * chopped dill or mint
  10. * chopped hard boiled egg optional
  11. * extra virgin olive oil to garnish, optional

 

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.

Screenshot

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.

 

Foraging For Wild Mushrooms and their Health Benefits

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Wild mushroom foraging is the practice of gathering mushrooms from natural habitats like forests, meadows, and woodlands. It offers a deep connection with nature and a chance to discover unique, flavorful varieties that aren’t available in stores. Foraging encourages physical activity, mindfulness, and a deeper appreciation for ecosystems, as identifying safe, edible species requires keen observation and knowledge.

Eating wild mushrooms comes with numerous nutritional benefits. They are rich in vitamins (like B vitamins and vitamin D), minerals (including potassium, zinc, and selenium), and antioxidants that support immune function and overall health. Wild varieties, such as chanterelles, morels, and porcini, often contain higher concentrations of these nutrients compared to their cultivated counterparts. Additionally, they are low in calories and high in fiber, promoting digestive health.

Beyond their nutritional value, wild mushrooms add unique textures and complex flavors to dishes, from earthy and nutty to subtly fruity. Their rich umami quality can elevate the taste profile of soups, sauces, and sautés. However, it’s crucial to forage responsibly, ensuring correct identification to avoid toxic varieties. For those who practice safety and respect for the environment, wild mushroom foraging can be a rewarding, delicious way to connect with nature.

Wild Strawberries

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In the quiet embrace of the forest, where sunlight filters through ancient trees, a hidden treasure awaits the patient seeker. Among the emerald leaves and whispering grasses, wild strawberries lie like scattered rubies, their crimson glow a secret gift of the earth. Each berry, a delicate promise, holds within it the essence of summer, the sweetness of sunlight, and the memory of rain.

Kneeling among the ferns, fingers brush against the tender fruit, plucking them with reverence, as if gathering tiny jewels from nature’s own crown. The taste is a fleeting moment of bliss, a connection to the wild and untamed, where the boundaries between human and earth blur. Each berry savored is a communion with the past, with ancestors who once foraged in these very woods, guided by the same instinctual knowledge.

Foraging for wild strawberries is a dance with time, a meditation on simplicity, where the heart slows to match the rhythm of the forest. It is an act of humility, of bowing to the land that sustains us, of recognizing the abundance that lies hidden in plain sight. In these quiet moments, we find not just sustenance, but a deeper understanding of the intricate web of life, where every tiny fruit is a testament to the beauty and generosity of the world.