“They ranged around the local landscape by carriage, stopping off at likely hunting grounds, measuring fairy-rings, and gathering an extraordinary hoard of wild mushrooms: milk-caps, ceps, chanterelles, witch’s butter, hedeghog fungi. The day ended in the Green Dragon in Hereford, with the exhibits strewn out on the pub tables, and a late lunch of the day’s best trophies: shaggy parasol on toast, fried giant puffballs, and fairy-ring champignons in white sauce. The puffballs especially were voted a great success, as was the day itself.”
[Richard Mabey, describing a Victorian mushroom expedition]

A few years back, a debate raged in the pages of a British newspaper on the role of foraging as a human activity. One side posited foraging as a middle class leisure activity, built on a literary mythology of the back-to-the land movement, and possibly a threat to nature if more people adopted the practice. The other side described contemporary foraging as an activity tying us to our prehistoric human roots, when 900,000 years ago all humans spent their days seeking food.

The historians, sociologists, ecologists and literary theorists will likely find some truth on both sides of the debate, but I look to foraging as a time to empty my brain of such concerns. Wandering the woods, seashore, or field edges might seem like a simple activity, but it demands attention and helps to create a quiet mind. Efforts are sometimes rewarded, and sometimes not. But the scratches and scrapes, dirty knees and other minor difficulties are generally rewarded. My only regrets are arriving one week late to a stand of brambles laden with blackberries, to see the bushes drooping under the weight of the now shriveled, and unpickable, fruit. It’s a shock to know I’ll need to wait a full year to be back in this place to, hopefully, reap the bounty.

When we moved to Maine we bought a house with some acres.  On those acres were many weeds, some hay, a strange array of perennial rejects and a handful of fruit trees.  The sad collection of very old apple trees was hemmed in by an ugly makeshift fence.  They appeared not to have been loved for many years. But they were ours, and Don was thrilled.  He set about to slowly rehabilitate them.  We tore down the fence, cleared out the underbrush and Don did some pruning.  And then he did some more. The third year on the property I went to the Fedco Tree sale and bought some new apples, a couple pears and a pair of plums.  I had really wanted to come home with some sour cherry trees.  Back in NYC I had done a six-week stint pitting millions of pie cherries by hand for Karen DeMasco at Craft, and seeing all the delicious things she did with them inspired me to plant my own crop. I was to wait another year for my cherry trees, but we had serious fruit tree ambitions. Last year we had enough of an apple crop to warrant the making of applesauce and apple butter, as well as having apples to eat out of hand. We felt a distinct sense of accomplishment. We had fruit trees! My cherries had gone in the ground in the spring, forcing me to wait another year for fruit, but at least they were in. The orchard was taking shape.

So this year we had great expectations.  Early spring brought a profusion of blossoms. We smiled to each other; this year we would have fruit!  But Mother Nature has ways of teaching lessons.  Mid-May, with the trees in full bloom, we had two nights of hard frost followed by a couple of unseasonably warm days.  We lost all those lovely blossoms, and with them our dreams of fruit. I thought it couldn’t really be that bad; Don was resigned.  Early summer when I went out to check, it was true, there was no fruit.  Well, two measly little apples on one of the smaller trees, but nothing anywhere else.  I have to wait another year for my cherries, there will be no apple butter, Don will have another year of pruning to shape the trees.  We learn patience.  The hard way.

Out on a Limb Apple CSA 2010

The Rare Apple CSA is back!
Last year was the first time out for this fantastic idea. We are thrilled to announce its return, and once more we’re the pick-up location. Below you will find everything you might need to know.  Those who participated last year have had their chance to sign up, now the shares are open to the public.  If you are interested we suggest you sign-up ASAP for this highly popular CSA.

This fall, Out on a Limb Apple CSA will be offering unusual and historic dessert (fresh eating) and culinary (baking/cooking) apples in six pick-ups from early September to early November.  You will receive about 20 -25 varieties over the course of the season.  Details are below.  Space is limited, so please sign up soon!

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About the Rare Apple CSA but Were Afraid to Ask:

Read the rest of this entry »

A month ago I was feeling a bit low. This season would likely bring few if any apples, pears, plums, cherries and other tree fruits to our table. The two hard frosts in late May took care of that, and this summer our little orchard seems intent on producing nothing but a bumper crop of young branches for me to prune next year.

But I’ve put all that behind me. We’re smack in the middle of berry season and so far it’s been great. The warm weather this spring seemed to make the strawberries particularly big and tasty, and last week I  picked the last of the wild black raspberries (pictured) from the few bushes in the corner of our hay field. Black raspberries are so satisfying. They grow up off the main plant in little floricanes with fruit clusters at the end. When ripe they fall right off, leaving the little hollow space behind, which is one way to distinguish between black raspberries and blackberries which are not hollow, and pull off the little base along with the fruit.

The blackberries are not quite ripe yet, but until they are, we can forage in a nearby marsh for high bush blueberries. The wet ground makes boots necessary, and depending on the time of day, bugs can be a nuisance, but the high bushes make bending down unnecessary, which is a relief. To find the marsh, we leave a trail that leads off our woods into some dense pines. A few yards of the pines and we reach the edge of the marsh. It’s still shady here, but there are plenty of bushes with good-sized berries, and firm ground to stand in. Venture a bit further, and we emerge into the hot sun and feel our boots squishing down into the mud. This morning, an hour or so yielded about 3 quarts of the little blue wonders.

There are many more berries to come this year, and we’ll be there to pick them when we can. And what we don’t pick, the birds will feast on.

So here’re a few photos from the wild Maine dinner. We didn’t shoot everything, but this’ll give you an idea. I know Johnny D has collected some audio and perhaps more photos. We’ll let you know when those are available.

“Herring and Mackerel. Herring Tataki with pickled Wild Ginger and Goosetongue, Smoked Mackerel with Fox Grape Leaf salad. Cured Mackerel with Crisp Root and Sea Mustard flowers.”

“25 wild plants, vegetables, and flowers. Queen Anne’s Lace root vinaigrette”.  Someone’s a fan of Michel Bras.

“Milkweed Pods, Ricotta, Lemon.”

“Tomato Water, Chanterelle Vodka”

Much fun being had.

The last of three dessert courses, “Tempura Milkweed Flowers. Creme Fraiche sauce, Wild Berries”

I have to post this menu from a delicious and varied dinner of wild Maine foods, given by friends last night. They’re foragers, and by nature a bit secretive, so I’ll leave them anonymous until they tell me they wish to emerge from the shadows.   Hopefully some pictures to follow.

before dinner

Pickled Mushrooms in oil

Ramp pickles

Day Lily pickles

Seaweed Stem pickles

Smoked Wild Turkey sausage

Bread and Morel butter

dinner

Venison Carpaccio.  Juniper crust, Cattail, Ramp Flower capers

Herring and Mackerel. Herring Tataki with pickled Wild Ginger and Goosetongue, Smoked Mackerel with Fox Grape Leaf salad. Cured Mackerel with Crisp Root and Sea Mustard flowers

25 wild plants, vegetables, and flowers. Queen Anne’s Lace root vinaigrette

Milkweed Pods. Ricotta, Lemon

Tomato water, Chanterelle Vodka

Tide Pool.  Sea Veg, Crab, Razor Clam, Uni, Fumet

dessert

Rosa Rugosa Sorbet

Black Trumpet Pasta. Ragu of Lobster, Razor Clam, Chanterelle and Black Trumpets. Wood Sorrel.

Pineapple Weed Upside Down Cake.  Sweet Fern Honey, Juniper Ice Cream

Tempura Milkweed Flowers. Creme Fraiche sauce, Wild Berries

“Pliny and Isadore write there are not above 144 Kinds of Fishes, but to my knowledge there are nearer 300. I suppose America was not known to Pliny and Isadore.”

John Josselyn, New England Rarities (London, 1672)

Sunday, June 27th from 11:00 to 3:00

In our world there are a couple of different varieties of celebrity. We are all familiar with the Food Network specimens, I will skip those names, you all know who they are. Some of those folks engender loyalty, others rancor. Then there are the chefs abroad in the world who have their own fans, often by no feat of their own publicity, just because people love their food. Grant Achatz comes to mind. Within the world of agriculture there are a couple of notable figures: Joel Salatin; Will Allen; Eliot Coleman, and a collection of faceless demons: Monsanto and Archer Daniels Midland come to mind. Since being here in Maine we have been introduced to a community that gets little press but is wholly remarkable if for nothing other than their optimism: the journeyperson farmers. Here is a link to the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners  website with the list of this years class. Go take a look at them, read their stories and feel a little better about the planet.