© 2012 Joshua Stark
Here is a short video my friend Abby from This Old Blog put together for me. If you don't realize it, she is the reason this video is so professionally put together; I did everything in my power to make it stink, but she is very good.
Showing posts with label foraging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foraging. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
LOTM: Greens on the Margin
© 2012 Joshua Stark
I took the kids out to a nice greens spot yesterday, took some photos, and posted a piece at my Lands on the Margin blog on picking greens and what you can find right now in California. The link also adds to my collection of Useful Plants of California's Edgelands.
I took the kids out to a nice greens spot yesterday, took some photos, and posted a piece at my Lands on the Margin blog on picking greens and what you can find right now in California. The link also adds to my collection of Useful Plants of California's Edgelands.
Monday, October 10, 2011
What a mountain!
© 2011 Joshua Stark
I've been up in the Sierra Nevada range during any free time I get lately, and I've found something new each time. A quick update, I've made a mountain berry pie (thanks for the name, Mom!), and found chinquapins (a nut, not a Spanish curse word), snowberries, huckleberries, and chokecherries. I've also found still-ripe gooseberries alongside the first snow and a flowering columbine! California microclimates are amazing.
I've been up in the Sierra Nevada range during any free time I get lately, and I've found something new each time. A quick update, I've made a mountain berry pie (thanks for the name, Mom!), and found chinquapins (a nut, not a Spanish curse word), snowberries, huckleberries, and chokecherries. I've also found still-ripe gooseberries alongside the first snow and a flowering columbine! California microclimates are amazing.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Living Wild and you - building a native plant community
© 2011 Joshua Stark
Alicia Funk over at Living Wild has posted a couple of articles on upcoming Fall field edibles. I was asked, and provided an article on my favorite, wild roses - although it was very hard to choose just one.
If you are interested in native plants, and would like to get in touch with others like you, Ms. Funk's website is a great start.
Alicia Funk over at Living Wild has posted a couple of articles on upcoming Fall field edibles. I was asked, and provided an article on my favorite, wild roses - although it was very hard to choose just one.
If you are interested in native plants, and would like to get in touch with others like you, Ms. Funk's website is a great start.
Friday, September 9, 2011
My wife, the Poet
© 2011 Joshua Stark
My wife is actually quite the renaissance woman, and that includes waxing poetic. Really.
For a taste of what she hath wrought in the smithy of her mind, check out her poem, "Fertile Valley", over at Living Wild.
You rock, honey.
My wife is actually quite the renaissance woman, and that includes waxing poetic. Really.
For a taste of what she hath wrought in the smithy of her mind, check out her poem, "Fertile Valley", over at Living Wild.
You rock, honey.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Microclimates
© 2011 Joshua Stark
You may have noticed that I've put up a list of what's in season right now for foraging, hunting and fishing. Homesteaders should most definitely understand their local conditions and learn to recognize the bounty of their region's wild plants, fish and game. This list is a general description, information I'm gathering from friends and the news. Your neighborhood, I can almost guarantee, is going to be slightly different from the list.
One reason for this difference is microclimates: ecological niches that so dramatically shift light patterns, temperatures, humidity, etc., that they effectively create climatic conditions different from the surrounding area. In California, microclimates can be extreme (due to the wildly varying topography, ocean influences, and other factors), but for practical purposes, a microclimate can be as small as the length of a wall.
More intensive gardening, especially in small spaces, can be greatly enhanced by understanding light and shadow patterns and windbreaks on your property, and matching plants and watering regimens to these patterns, rather than relying on the general assumptions of seed company descriptions. And this eye toward recognizing the influences of geography, direction, wind, and moisture can also help your local foraging efforts.
Recognizing niches that vary growing conditions in your neighborhood may lead to pleasant surprises, usually by extending "shoulder" seasons - the weeks on either end of a particular plant's harvest time. Greens, berries, and root veggies are all especially affected by microclimates because they tend to be low-growing and hardy plants, able to survive in wildly varying conditions (the same characteristics that also make them pests, at times).
If it is at all helpful to you, come back from time to time and see what is in season, or will be, soon. Definitely use the list while keeping an eye out in your own neck of the woods, especially during the shoulder seasons. You may find a treat.
You may have noticed that I've put up a list of what's in season right now for foraging, hunting and fishing. Homesteaders should most definitely understand their local conditions and learn to recognize the bounty of their region's wild plants, fish and game. This list is a general description, information I'm gathering from friends and the news. Your neighborhood, I can almost guarantee, is going to be slightly different from the list.
One reason for this difference is microclimates: ecological niches that so dramatically shift light patterns, temperatures, humidity, etc., that they effectively create climatic conditions different from the surrounding area. In California, microclimates can be extreme (due to the wildly varying topography, ocean influences, and other factors), but for practical purposes, a microclimate can be as small as the length of a wall.
More intensive gardening, especially in small spaces, can be greatly enhanced by understanding light and shadow patterns and windbreaks on your property, and matching plants and watering regimens to these patterns, rather than relying on the general assumptions of seed company descriptions. And this eye toward recognizing the influences of geography, direction, wind, and moisture can also help your local foraging efforts.
Recognizing niches that vary growing conditions in your neighborhood may lead to pleasant surprises, usually by extending "shoulder" seasons - the weeks on either end of a particular plant's harvest time. Greens, berries, and root veggies are all especially affected by microclimates because they tend to be low-growing and hardy plants, able to survive in wildly varying conditions (the same characteristics that also make them pests, at times).
If it is at all helpful to you, come back from time to time and see what is in season, or will be, soon. Definitely use the list while keeping an eye out in your own neck of the woods, especially during the shoulder seasons. You may find a treat.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Lands on the Margin is back! kinda...
© 2011 Joshua Stark
Last year, I stopped posting to my third blog, "Lands on the Margin", because I couldn't juggle all of the ideas I'd had, and something had to give. However, I didn't give up on the concept, and I kept the links to the blog live, just in case. I believed the theory was sound.
Earlier this year, I decided to revive the Lands on the Margin concept a bit, as a component of Agrarianista. In California, the added bonus from the wild seems a natural extension of agrarianism, even of the urban variety, because we are blessed with such a rich diversity of plant life.
So, I've begun a project that combines the earlier blog with a couple of new pages here at Agrarianista around LOTM (that's "Lands On The Margin"): A page explaining marginal lands (with links to the older blog, gear recommendations, and useful plants), and a small (soon to be growing) list of Useful Plants of California's Edgelands, with suggestions on identifying and gathering, and a couple of recipes or tips on how to use them.
The old LOTM blog will be used to post the newest entries to these or other related pages I create, so if you are interested in some information about California's bounteous edgelands, please follow the LOTM blog, too!
As always, I'm interested in getting feedback on these pages, so shoot away here (or at the relevant page, itself).
Last year, I stopped posting to my third blog, "Lands on the Margin", because I couldn't juggle all of the ideas I'd had, and something had to give. However, I didn't give up on the concept, and I kept the links to the blog live, just in case. I believed the theory was sound.
Earlier this year, I decided to revive the Lands on the Margin concept a bit, as a component of Agrarianista. In California, the added bonus from the wild seems a natural extension of agrarianism, even of the urban variety, because we are blessed with such a rich diversity of plant life.
So, I've begun a project that combines the earlier blog with a couple of new pages here at Agrarianista around LOTM (that's "Lands On The Margin"): A page explaining marginal lands (with links to the older blog, gear recommendations, and useful plants), and a small (soon to be growing) list of Useful Plants of California's Edgelands, with suggestions on identifying and gathering, and a couple of recipes or tips on how to use them.
The old LOTM blog will be used to post the newest entries to these or other related pages I create, so if you are interested in some information about California's bounteous edgelands, please follow the LOTM blog, too!
As always, I'm interested in getting feedback on these pages, so shoot away here (or at the relevant page, itself).
Sunday, August 21, 2011
California's big country - and getting to know one little slice of it
© 2011 Joshua Stark
Most people think of California as either Sun, sand, and surf, or as a seething hole filled with people, or as a cosmopolitan bastion of communism. But there is much more to this, the third largest State in the Nation.
California has more climate regions than any other state, and within each region lie dozens, if not hundreds, of microclimates. California has more plant species than all other states put together. It has the oldest natural park in the Nation (Yosemite was created in 1864). It has the tallest peak in the lower 48, the tallest trees on Earth, the oldest living thing on Earth, the largest thing on Earth, the largest animal on Earth (which it shares with other Pacific states), even the largest elk in the country (which it shares with Oregon). It's agriculture is simply unsurpassed. And half of the State is owned by the federal government, which means that huge tracts are accessible for free by all us Americans.
Within California lies the Sierra Nevada Range. Within the Sierra Nevada run a number of big rivers, each an accumulation of huge watersheds. One of these watersheds, the American River system, is very dear to me, and one mountain-side in this watershed, in particular, holds a very special place in my heart. At the base of this mountain, in the river, I proposed to my wife of 8 years. Each year, I get to know this mountain, a very large, craggy-in-places, ecologically diverse sliver of California. It has huge elevation changes which make for amazing habitat diversity, beginning with mixed conifer (but mostly oak) at its base and toying with sub-alpine habitat at its plateau. Its wildlife is equally diverse.
Every time I visit this place, I find something new. Yesterday, I walked the mountainside with bow in hand for the opening day of our archery season. The place was crawling with hunters, "crawling" in the sense that they were slowly picking along the mountainside in four-wheel-drives and ATV's. I found a gully without a truck parked on it, and slowly started walking up-slope. The Sun was creeping up (I'd gotten up late, but wasn't worried - this was more of a scouting trip) over the ridgetops, and below, a couple thousand feet down, flowed the American River through its canyon.
Archery hunters are, by their nature, quieter than gun hunters, and so there was very little human sound in the land. I poked my way up the gully, noting little sign, but fresh in the grass. Nothing jumped out of the thicket, however, and I moved over the ridge to the South slope. It was going to be a hot day (90 F), and I knew they'd be moving to the North side and hunkering down early. At the ridgeline, I looked down at a beautiful reservoir. On the North side, I found new habitat, a great spring running off the mountain (a spring! In late August!), and more good sign, but no deer.
No deer, but my new finds this time were a new meadow filled with yampa, a couple of red currant bushes, another great spot for gooseberries (finally ripening - in late August!), and four coveys of quail with babies. (Babies! In late August!)
It has been a wonderful, watery, verdant year for the mountain. I can't wait to get back up there and find something new.
Most people think of California as either Sun, sand, and surf, or as a seething hole filled with people, or as a cosmopolitan bastion of communism. But there is much more to this, the third largest State in the Nation.
California has more climate regions than any other state, and within each region lie dozens, if not hundreds, of microclimates. California has more plant species than all other states put together. It has the oldest natural park in the Nation (Yosemite was created in 1864). It has the tallest peak in the lower 48, the tallest trees on Earth, the oldest living thing on Earth, the largest thing on Earth, the largest animal on Earth (which it shares with other Pacific states), even the largest elk in the country (which it shares with Oregon). It's agriculture is simply unsurpassed. And half of the State is owned by the federal government, which means that huge tracts are accessible for free by all us Americans.
Within California lies the Sierra Nevada Range. Within the Sierra Nevada run a number of big rivers, each an accumulation of huge watersheds. One of these watersheds, the American River system, is very dear to me, and one mountain-side in this watershed, in particular, holds a very special place in my heart. At the base of this mountain, in the river, I proposed to my wife of 8 years. Each year, I get to know this mountain, a very large, craggy-in-places, ecologically diverse sliver of California. It has huge elevation changes which make for amazing habitat diversity, beginning with mixed conifer (but mostly oak) at its base and toying with sub-alpine habitat at its plateau. Its wildlife is equally diverse.
Every time I visit this place, I find something new. Yesterday, I walked the mountainside with bow in hand for the opening day of our archery season. The place was crawling with hunters, "crawling" in the sense that they were slowly picking along the mountainside in four-wheel-drives and ATV's. I found a gully without a truck parked on it, and slowly started walking up-slope. The Sun was creeping up (I'd gotten up late, but wasn't worried - this was more of a scouting trip) over the ridgetops, and below, a couple thousand feet down, flowed the American River through its canyon.
Archery hunters are, by their nature, quieter than gun hunters, and so there was very little human sound in the land. I poked my way up the gully, noting little sign, but fresh in the grass. Nothing jumped out of the thicket, however, and I moved over the ridge to the South slope. It was going to be a hot day (90 F), and I knew they'd be moving to the North side and hunkering down early. At the ridgeline, I looked down at a beautiful reservoir. On the North side, I found new habitat, a great spring running off the mountain (a spring! In late August!), and more good sign, but no deer.
No deer, but my new finds this time were a new meadow filled with yampa, a couple of red currant bushes, another great spot for gooseberries (finally ripening - in late August!), and four coveys of quail with babies. (Babies! In late August!)
It has been a wonderful, watery, verdant year for the mountain. I can't wait to get back up there and find something new.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Seasons and insanity as a forager
© 2011 Joshua Stark
Foraging, hunting and fishing are markedly different from gardening, no more so than during harvest. Gardeners (especially the ones outside California) get antsy during late Winter. They pore over arcane tomes of knowledge - planting tips, seed catalogs - in the futile hope that the pages of texts and online fora will fill that hole in their hearts. But, that hole can only be filled by dirt, and besides, that hole is one of anticipation. It's a tough one, to be sure, but there is the knowledge in gardening that with patience, perseverance, and worms, you will garden. Unless you live in the Central Valley of California, in which case you are gardening all year, and don't have to suffer.
But In the wild pursuits, ya got to pick 'em when their ready, which is why my wife hates me during seasons that are particularly relevant to me.
Scene: driving down a country road, listening to "Marketplace", heading towards Mamaw's and Papaw's house:
Me, in a quiet, yet forceful voice: Let's see if we can get a government run by people with even LESS understanding of economics next ti... ooh, look at all the fennel pollen! Craap!
My loving wife (LW), lowering her head slightly and half-closing her eyes: ...
Me: There it goes. You know, it sells at the Co-op for, like, thirty bucks a pound. And here we are, driving right by it.
LW, taking a long, slow breath, slightly pursing her lips: ...
Me: It'll be gone in no time. Man! I bet those gooseberries up the hill are ripe now, too - and we know the elderberries and blackberries are just about to rot on the vine. We never have enough time.
LW, a knowing smile playing across her lips: ...
Phoebe, four-year-old daughter in the back seat: I want to move closer to Mamaw and Papaw.
Me: Me, too, honey... ah! I bet the stripers are hitting at Watt Avenue right now, and next week is deer season! It'll all be gone for another year, and we won't even get a chance. Man, we never have enough time.
Ruben, 10-month-old in the back seat, in a quiet, thoughtful tone: Gah.
I get a tad wild, myself, when things are in season in the wild. The word in Spanish is "desesperado" (not to be confused with that wonderful hit by the Eagles), and it drives my wife bonkers. Finally, she will say, "just go! Get out!", and send me packing to pick. Or hunt, or fish.
But my madness isn't completely irrational. In the wild pursuits, you have to be out at the right time, or it truly is gone until next year. There is no anticipation, no nurturing in the same sense as gardening, and there is nothing in the wild approaching the fence that surrounds your plants from everybody else's. Oh, sure, you think about the wonderful things you will make with particular plants or fish or game, but you don't nurture the plant, you don't water it or drive away bugs or anything like that. It isn't your plant... although you certainly do feel a sense of proprietorship when you come back to a ripe fig tree and find that it's been stripped clean by somebody else. It is ripe in its own time, on its own effort, and you just have to make sure and show up, or it goes to somebody else.
The wild pursuits are ephemeral, and so aesthetically and philosophically, they provide much nourishment. But, when it comes to eating, an ephemeral nature can drive a person kinda coo-coo.
Foraging, hunting and fishing are markedly different from gardening, no more so than during harvest. Gardeners (especially the ones outside California) get antsy during late Winter. They pore over arcane tomes of knowledge - planting tips, seed catalogs - in the futile hope that the pages of texts and online fora will fill that hole in their hearts. But, that hole can only be filled by dirt, and besides, that hole is one of anticipation. It's a tough one, to be sure, but there is the knowledge in gardening that with patience, perseverance, and worms, you will garden. Unless you live in the Central Valley of California, in which case you are gardening all year, and don't have to suffer.
But In the wild pursuits, ya got to pick 'em when their ready, which is why my wife hates me during seasons that are particularly relevant to me.
Scene: driving down a country road, listening to "Marketplace", heading towards Mamaw's and Papaw's house:
Me, in a quiet, yet forceful voice: Let's see if we can get a government run by people with even LESS understanding of economics next ti... ooh, look at all the fennel pollen! Craap!
My loving wife (LW), lowering her head slightly and half-closing her eyes: ...
Me: There it goes. You know, it sells at the Co-op for, like, thirty bucks a pound. And here we are, driving right by it.
LW, taking a long, slow breath, slightly pursing her lips: ...
Me: It'll be gone in no time. Man! I bet those gooseberries up the hill are ripe now, too - and we know the elderberries and blackberries are just about to rot on the vine. We never have enough time.
LW, a knowing smile playing across her lips: ...
Phoebe, four-year-old daughter in the back seat: I want to move closer to Mamaw and Papaw.
Me: Me, too, honey... ah! I bet the stripers are hitting at Watt Avenue right now, and next week is deer season! It'll all be gone for another year, and we won't even get a chance. Man, we never have enough time.
Ruben, 10-month-old in the back seat, in a quiet, thoughtful tone: Gah.
I get a tad wild, myself, when things are in season in the wild. The word in Spanish is "desesperado" (not to be confused with that wonderful hit by the Eagles), and it drives my wife bonkers. Finally, she will say, "just go! Get out!", and send me packing to pick. Or hunt, or fish.
But my madness isn't completely irrational. In the wild pursuits, you have to be out at the right time, or it truly is gone until next year. There is no anticipation, no nurturing in the same sense as gardening, and there is nothing in the wild approaching the fence that surrounds your plants from everybody else's. Oh, sure, you think about the wonderful things you will make with particular plants or fish or game, but you don't nurture the plant, you don't water it or drive away bugs or anything like that. It isn't your plant... although you certainly do feel a sense of proprietorship when you come back to a ripe fig tree and find that it's been stripped clean by somebody else. It is ripe in its own time, on its own effort, and you just have to make sure and show up, or it goes to somebody else.
The wild pursuits are ephemeral, and so aesthetically and philosophically, they provide much nourishment. But, when it comes to eating, an ephemeral nature can drive a person kinda coo-coo.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Marginal lands this week!
© 2011 Joshua Stark
It is the time of year in Northern California when those of us who know it start hitting the marginal lands, those places on the edges of civilization, looking for good things to eat and a great time while we're at it.
You see, it is Summertime when these lands really provide. We've got fennel blooming, ripe berries and fruits, great fishing, and rabbit season just started. This week, I'll be hitting some of my favorite spots, looking in particular for blackberries, gooseberries, figs, and bunnies. I'll also be trying two new things: Trapping crawdads (which, though not really new to me, still something I haven't done in ages), and possibly bowfishing from a canoe for carp. Hopefully, I'll cajole somebody with a camera to come out, especially for the bowfishing.
It is the time of year in Northern California when those of us who know it start hitting the marginal lands, those places on the edges of civilization, looking for good things to eat and a great time while we're at it.
You see, it is Summertime when these lands really provide. We've got fennel blooming, ripe berries and fruits, great fishing, and rabbit season just started. This week, I'll be hitting some of my favorite spots, looking in particular for blackberries, gooseberries, figs, and bunnies. I'll also be trying two new things: Trapping crawdads (which, though not really new to me, still something I haven't done in ages), and possibly bowfishing from a canoe for carp. Hopefully, I'll cajole somebody with a camera to come out, especially for the bowfishing.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Friends and walnuts
© 2011 Joshua Stark
A few days ago, I was lucky enough to come upon a walnut tree with a good number of easy-to-reach, ready-to-pick green walnuts - that is: green, about the size they will reach when mature, and with no hard shell within the hull.
I picked about 100, and gave half to Hank Shaw. He suggested we both pickle some with different recipes and compare notes. Right now, my batch of knife-pricked walnuts is brining in a 1:5 (or so) salt-to-water recipe, which I'll shake every day (or so) for about 9 days. After this time, I will pickle, so stay tuned. Also, if you have any suggestions for a good pickled walnut recipe, let me know; though I've made ketchup and chutney, I've yet to just pickle 'em.
And speaking of foraging, I've got a new member of my blogroll. Author, forager, and fellow lover of the Sierra Nevada, Alicia Funk has an online presence: The Living Wild Project, A Collaborative Native Plant Community. Alicia puts it best:
"I want to invite you to participate in this collaborative site by adding your recipes and plant discoveries. It is essential that we work together to revive the living libraries of information on how to live sustainably with this land. This will provide independence, health and food security for our grandchildren."
When you get a chance, head on over and sign up to be a part of the conversation. You will definitely see me there.
By the way, Alicia's book can be purchased here, and she's donating 100% of her profits.
A few days ago, I was lucky enough to come upon a walnut tree with a good number of easy-to-reach, ready-to-pick green walnuts - that is: green, about the size they will reach when mature, and with no hard shell within the hull.
I picked about 100, and gave half to Hank Shaw. He suggested we both pickle some with different recipes and compare notes. Right now, my batch of knife-pricked walnuts is brining in a 1:5 (or so) salt-to-water recipe, which I'll shake every day (or so) for about 9 days. After this time, I will pickle, so stay tuned. Also, if you have any suggestions for a good pickled walnut recipe, let me know; though I've made ketchup and chutney, I've yet to just pickle 'em.
And speaking of foraging, I've got a new member of my blogroll. Author, forager, and fellow lover of the Sierra Nevada, Alicia Funk has an online presence: The Living Wild Project, A Collaborative Native Plant Community. Alicia puts it best:
"I want to invite you to participate in this collaborative site by adding your recipes and plant discoveries. It is essential that we work together to revive the living libraries of information on how to live sustainably with this land. This will provide independence, health and food security for our grandchildren."
When you get a chance, head on over and sign up to be a part of the conversation. You will definitely see me there.
By the way, Alicia's book can be purchased here, and she's donating 100% of her profits.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Hank Shaw's new book is out!
© 2011 Joshua Stark
My copy arrived yesterday, and it looks great!
Pick you up one. While you are at it, see if you live near where he'll be stopping by on his tour.
My copy arrived yesterday, and it looks great!
Pick you up one. While you are at it, see if you live near where he'll be stopping by on his tour.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Wild Radish Pickling Update
© 2011 Joshua Stark
How do you best represent the raspberry sound?
The pickled wild radishes were a failure. They lost all their spice, and tasted like any typical green thing would taste had it sat in vinegar overnight.
I think there were a few problems:
1) The apple cider vinegar I used was too powerful;
2) I used too much sugar;
3) I didn't add any other spices.
Next time, I'd like to try it with lemon juice instead of vinegar, and maybe just a touch of sugar. However, I'm starting to think that wild radish seedpods are only good fresh, maybe diced in a salad.
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
How do you best represent the raspberry sound?
The pickled wild radishes were a failure. They lost all their spice, and tasted like any typical green thing would taste had it sat in vinegar overnight.
I think there were a few problems:
1) The apple cider vinegar I used was too powerful;
2) I used too much sugar;
3) I didn't add any other spices.
Next time, I'd like to try it with lemon juice instead of vinegar, and maybe just a touch of sugar. However, I'm starting to think that wild radish seedpods are only good fresh, maybe diced in a salad.
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Edible Plants of the Marginal Lands: Wild radishes on the margin (and durn near everywhere else!)
© 2011 Joshua Stark
I've known for a couple of years that wild radishes have edible leaves and seed-pods, and last year I even stumbled upon a ready crop of seeds. By the time I could return, however, they'd already become woody and worthless for eating - in California's Central Valley, the shift from Winter to Spring to Summer takes about four days (this year is far different, by the way).
This year, then, I was ready for them, and sure enough, I've found seed-pods that were ready. Ripe (for lack of a better word) wild radish seedpods are translucent green, long and skinny and bean-looking, and stick straight up along the plant. Of course, the best way to test if they are ready is to eat one: it should taste exactly like a particularly peppery radish from the store, except that I've not yet found a wild radish to be bitter.
Not knowing what to do with them, I pickled them refrigerator-style: Half vinegar, half water, a little sugar - sort-of the encortido version of radishes. I'll let you know tomorrow how it works.
I'm really hoping they work because we love radishes, we have a hard time growing them (our radishes are always extraordinarily bitter), and wild radishes are everywhere around here, as ubiquitous as wild mustard and fennel.
If you live around here, any vacant lot, road's edge or fallowed field will likely hold wild radishes. They can grow from a few inches to three or four feet tall, and are often found in fields with wild mustards - the yellow flowers are mustard, and the white or lavendar flowers are radishes.
I've known for a couple of years that wild radishes have edible leaves and seed-pods, and last year I even stumbled upon a ready crop of seeds. By the time I could return, however, they'd already become woody and worthless for eating - in California's Central Valley, the shift from Winter to Spring to Summer takes about four days (this year is far different, by the way).
This year, then, I was ready for them, and sure enough, I've found seed-pods that were ready. Ripe (for lack of a better word) wild radish seedpods are translucent green, long and skinny and bean-looking, and stick straight up along the plant. Of course, the best way to test if they are ready is to eat one: it should taste exactly like a particularly peppery radish from the store, except that I've not yet found a wild radish to be bitter.
Not knowing what to do with them, I pickled them refrigerator-style: Half vinegar, half water, a little sugar - sort-of the encortido version of radishes. I'll let you know tomorrow how it works.
I'm really hoping they work because we love radishes, we have a hard time growing them (our radishes are always extraordinarily bitter), and wild radishes are everywhere around here, as ubiquitous as wild mustard and fennel.
If you live around here, any vacant lot, road's edge or fallowed field will likely hold wild radishes. They can grow from a few inches to three or four feet tall, and are often found in fields with wild mustards - the yellow flowers are mustard, and the white or lavendar flowers are radishes.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
My first attempt at video!
© 2010 Joshua Stark
If you are interested in learning about gathering and processing acorns, please take a look at this, my first YouTube video:
Being extremely uncomfortable with my physical self, it is very scary to put up my first attempt at a YouTube Marginal Lands video. But, Abby Jaske, the person who filmed and edited, did such a great job with the iffy material I provided her, that I would be a very bad person, indeed, if I didn't share this.
Pretty soon, be ready for a (shorter) video on how to gather and prepare nettles! There may even be a beer recipe in that one.
If you are interested in learning about gathering and processing acorns, please take a look at this, my first YouTube video:
Being extremely uncomfortable with my physical self, it is very scary to put up my first attempt at a YouTube Marginal Lands video. But, Abby Jaske, the person who filmed and edited, did such a great job with the iffy material I provided her, that I would be a very bad person, indeed, if I didn't share this.
Pretty soon, be ready for a (shorter) video on how to gather and prepare nettles! There may even be a beer recipe in that one.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Give me your elderberry recipes!
© 2010 Joshua Stark
I've got a few bags of blue elderberries (Sambucus mexicanus) in the freezer. I've got one good spiced elderberry recipe, but I'd like more! Send 'em along, and help us fill out our gifts for friends and family this holiday season...
I've got a few bags of blue elderberries (Sambucus mexicanus) in the freezer. I've got one good spiced elderberry recipe, but I'd like more! Send 'em along, and help us fill out our gifts for friends and family this holiday season...
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Foraging update: Gather your acorns while ye may
© 2010 Joshua Stark
I found a great little tip about gathering acorns. Taking a cue from the blog "Ramshackle Solid", I checked out some of our Valley oaks a couple of days after rains had come through. Sure enough, many of them had split right open, making about one-third of the process of getting acorn flour so much easier.
With such a great harvest, I thought I'd make my first try something special. However, Hank Shaw's acorn honey cake was a tad expensive on our current budget, so I made a variation. I replaced the 1/2 cup of honey with a mix of honey, molasses, and brown sugar. I also substituted canola oil for the olive oil (ouch!). Last, I used our duck eggs, rather than chicken eggs.
It is said that one cannot get stiff peaks from duck eggs, and although that is true, it is only true to a degree. By beating the whites thoroughly and adding sugar a bit at a time, I get something pretty close to stiff.
I used the only springform we've got (10"), and poured in the batter. After 17 minutes, I started watching it like a hawk, but by about 28 minutes it was done, and looking good! It didn't rise as much as it would have with the chicken eggs, I'm guessing, but I will say that the mix of sweet substitutes worked so well that I renamed my variation.
The acorns didn't just provide a filler, either. This cake has a toasty nuttiness, and the slightly inconsistent grinding from my blender added tiny, flavorful chunks of toasted acorn. It was really a treat!
We here have been so impressed with the acorn flour that after today's rains we plan to hit the fields to gather this amazing nut.
I will definitely be adding the Quercus (oak) family to the list of Lands on the Margin's edible plants list. Keep an eye out for that and all the other plants I'll be adding to a stand-alone page, soon.
I found a great little tip about gathering acorns. Taking a cue from the blog "Ramshackle Solid", I checked out some of our Valley oaks a couple of days after rains had come through. Sure enough, many of them had split right open, making about one-third of the process of getting acorn flour so much easier.
 |
| Click on the pic. for a closer view of split acorns. |
It is said that one cannot get stiff peaks from duck eggs, and although that is true, it is only true to a degree. By beating the whites thoroughly and adding sugar a bit at a time, I get something pretty close to stiff.
I used the only springform we've got (10"), and poured in the batter. After 17 minutes, I started watching it like a hawk, but by about 28 minutes it was done, and looking good! It didn't rise as much as it would have with the chicken eggs, I'm guessing, but I will say that the mix of sweet substitutes worked so well that I renamed my variation.
 |
| The four sweets acorn cake |
The acorns didn't just provide a filler, either. This cake has a toasty nuttiness, and the slightly inconsistent grinding from my blender added tiny, flavorful chunks of toasted acorn. It was really a treat!
We here have been so impressed with the acorn flour that after today's rains we plan to hit the fields to gather this amazing nut.
I will definitely be adding the Quercus (oak) family to the list of Lands on the Margin's edible plants list. Keep an eye out for that and all the other plants I'll be adding to a stand-alone page, soon.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Mushrooms in the yard... but what?
© 2010 Joshua Stark
A quick post question: Can anybody recognize this mushroom?
This isn't a trick question, nor will I believe you enough to eat it. I'm just curious, because we've got a great little family of 'em growing up right now.
A quick post question: Can anybody recognize this mushroom?
This isn't a trick question, nor will I believe you enough to eat it. I'm just curious, because we've got a great little family of 'em growing up right now.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Changes (resisting stealing from David Bowie)
© 2010 Joshua Stark
Though I love Bowie, I just couldn't bring myself to title my post what it was screaming to be titled.
Anyhoo, I want to point out some changes I've made to this blog, and some changes to my blogging, in general.
First, notice that you can subscribe to my blog, so if you are comfortable with that sort of thing, go right ahead and sign up.
Next, although I'm going to keep it on my blog roll for awhile (so people may still access old content), I'm actually not going to post to my 'Lands on the Margin' blog separate from this one. Now, I love that blog, and it's difficult to stop posting, but as a good friend suggested, I can easily roll posts about marginal lands into Agrarianista here, especially considering what I've come to realize about urban homesteading in California.
In California, we have a long, distinguished history of effective foraging, hunting and fishing. We have more plant varieties than all other states in the U.S. combined. We have a fairly close proximity to a huge variety of climates and microclimates, and the elevation changes (here around Sacramento, we are less than three hours from coast to alpine climates) provide a gigantic range of seasons (we pick elderberries from June through September). Historically, as Brian Fagan points out in his book, "Before California", for 12,000 years our region had no need for agriculture, and by the time the first Europeans arrived, California housed ~350k, all from foraging, hunting and fishing (including ~ 60K tons of acorns per year).
With the arrival of us Europeans came other forage-able species: Blackberries, mustard, fennel, and many roadside weeds and ornamentals (like rosemary), often highly prized in culinary circles, are had by simply sloughing off one's pride and stopping at the abandoned lot with a paper bag and a knife.
So for me, urban homesteading in California definitely involves a lot of foraging. Besides, I know the edgelands better than I know how to coax squash out of my backyard soil, and I'm able to trade, from time to time, for those wonderful cup-&-saucers and other squashes we love. The trade of things one has made, including one's store of knowledge, for others' well-wrought expertise, is the cornerstone of homesteading; it builds the community people realize they crave when they find it.
Soon, I'll also set up some stand-alone pages: "How to start homesteading"; and compilations (w/ additional materials) of two occasional series from my 'Lands' blog, "Edible and Useful Plants of California's Edgelands", and "Marginal Reviews: Gear for California's Edgelands".
"River Nature Tours" (already up), is a page on my guiding service around Central California. If you are interested in getting an up-close look at our local river habitats, please check it out and shoot me an email. Soon, I will post information on an upcoming weekend getaway on the Sacramento Delta, with guided trips for birdwatching, learning some basic California edgeland foraging (there's more than just stuff to eat, too!), and some local flavors, both literal and figurative.
For those of you who have found some interest or entertainment here, please pass along my blog to people you think may be interested. Also, please feel free to comment with tips, questions, suggestions, disagreements... I'm very interested in hearing which have been helpful, what you might like to read, and the expertise you have for me and others who are also interested in urban agrarianism.
Though I love Bowie, I just couldn't bring myself to title my post what it was screaming to be titled.
Anyhoo, I want to point out some changes I've made to this blog, and some changes to my blogging, in general.
First, notice that you can subscribe to my blog, so if you are comfortable with that sort of thing, go right ahead and sign up.
Next, although I'm going to keep it on my blog roll for awhile (so people may still access old content), I'm actually not going to post to my 'Lands on the Margin' blog separate from this one. Now, I love that blog, and it's difficult to stop posting, but as a good friend suggested, I can easily roll posts about marginal lands into Agrarianista here, especially considering what I've come to realize about urban homesteading in California.
In California, we have a long, distinguished history of effective foraging, hunting and fishing. We have more plant varieties than all other states in the U.S. combined. We have a fairly close proximity to a huge variety of climates and microclimates, and the elevation changes (here around Sacramento, we are less than three hours from coast to alpine climates) provide a gigantic range of seasons (we pick elderberries from June through September). Historically, as Brian Fagan points out in his book, "Before California", for 12,000 years our region had no need for agriculture, and by the time the first Europeans arrived, California housed ~350k, all from foraging, hunting and fishing (including ~ 60K tons of acorns per year).
With the arrival of us Europeans came other forage-able species: Blackberries, mustard, fennel, and many roadside weeds and ornamentals (like rosemary), often highly prized in culinary circles, are had by simply sloughing off one's pride and stopping at the abandoned lot with a paper bag and a knife.
So for me, urban homesteading in California definitely involves a lot of foraging. Besides, I know the edgelands better than I know how to coax squash out of my backyard soil, and I'm able to trade, from time to time, for those wonderful cup-&-saucers and other squashes we love. The trade of things one has made, including one's store of knowledge, for others' well-wrought expertise, is the cornerstone of homesteading; it builds the community people realize they crave when they find it.
Soon, I'll also set up some stand-alone pages: "How to start homesteading"; and compilations (w/ additional materials) of two occasional series from my 'Lands' blog, "Edible and Useful Plants of California's Edgelands", and "Marginal Reviews: Gear for California's Edgelands".
"River Nature Tours" (already up), is a page on my guiding service around Central California. If you are interested in getting an up-close look at our local river habitats, please check it out and shoot me an email. Soon, I will post information on an upcoming weekend getaway on the Sacramento Delta, with guided trips for birdwatching, learning some basic California edgeland foraging (there's more than just stuff to eat, too!), and some local flavors, both literal and figurative.
For those of you who have found some interest or entertainment here, please pass along my blog to people you think may be interested. Also, please feel free to comment with tips, questions, suggestions, disagreements... I'm very interested in hearing which have been helpful, what you might like to read, and the expertise you have for me and others who are also interested in urban agrarianism.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
California homesteading
© 2010 Joshua Stark
My garden has not really taken off too well this year, partly because of the weather and partly because of the constant duck raids. But, we've still done okay, getting a decent amount of our own food, much of it from foraging for berries, fruits, and greens, and also through the kindness of friends and barter. These, I fully believe, are consistent with the spirit of homesteading. Many folks lived off the land as they were preparing it, and when weather or pestilence (duck-billed or otherwise) impacted their crops. And, many communities were built and sustained through sharing food and other resources and skills, as people had little money but spent their time in trying to be useful to one another.
In California, I am blessed with an abundant variety of wild, feral, and invasive plants to eat. California's Mediterranean climate, one of only six on Earth, along with its extreme geographies (highest point in lower 48, lowest point in North America, 800 miles of marine coastline, over 2,400 miles of inland waterways, 11,000 ft. trench off the Central Coast, etc.) create tremendous opportunities for all kinds of plants to make their home here.
Sadly, this isn't always good for California's habitats. Giant river reed, the material I use to make my trellises, is a horrible riparian invasive that creates literal holes in the habitat - they provide no cover for natives, no food for fauna, no canopies for nesting, and their roots probably exude toxins that clear nearby plant species.
Others aren't as bad. Himalayan blackberry and eucalyptus, while also terribly invasive, at least provide food and cover for some natives. Eucalyptus may even be the reason for healthy monarch butterfly populations, as millions of them overwinter in Santa Cruz, and feed off the winter-flowering trees.
Of course, there are California's native plants, that tremendous cache of floral diversity with many useful traits. California is blessed with more plant taxa than all other states, combined, well over 5,000, and many of these are varieties of familiar genera. For example, the world has about 150 varieties of Ribes, the gooseberries, currants, etc. - and 30 of them are native to California.
This year, we've eaten nettles, mallow, a small variety of berries, morel mushrooms, and figs. Knowing your places, your lands,and knowing what you can glean from them is an important part of homesteading, and is even important and successful in the city. Many people plant fruiting trees and shrubs as ornamentals. Others often take off in urban edges, the progeny of past plantings or escaped children planted by the wind, water, or birds and other animals. Our local Lowe's, for example, grows a shrub variety of pomegranate in their parking lots. Purple plums and mulberries abound throughout Sacramento, as do fennel, mustard, walnuts, and chicory in the edgelands. Of course, nearly everybody grows roses, whose hips make great syrups and teas. A person can acquire, for free, some pretty expensive sides and condiments.
Having good neighborly relations with folks who can provide you access to their wild-growing crops is also important to living off the land. My friendships include folks around as long as I can remember, farmers who've provided access for hunting, fishing, and picking figs and river reed, and newer friendships like Hank Shaw, who just last week offered us some great meats, including a chinese sausage we'll devour in a couple of days. In exchange, lately, we've been able to give eggs from our ducks. Lots of eggs. We've also been blessed with tomatoes, which is typically a reason to lock one's door in the Summer (to avoid more freebies), but this year, due to the weather, we've been able to give some away with glad hearts receiving them.
I also give away non-food items, like flies tied from my ducks' feathers, and extra river reed I've cut for garden infrastructure. I wanted to make a walnut stain from the inedible walnuts dropped, half-eaten, by squirrels, and I still hope to make a batch.
Homesteading, even part-time in the city, brings a number of fun benefits. And in addition to the expertise one gets from gardening, husbandry, naturalism, food preparation and preservation, a person also gets to share.
My garden has not really taken off too well this year, partly because of the weather and partly because of the constant duck raids. But, we've still done okay, getting a decent amount of our own food, much of it from foraging for berries, fruits, and greens, and also through the kindness of friends and barter. These, I fully believe, are consistent with the spirit of homesteading. Many folks lived off the land as they were preparing it, and when weather or pestilence (duck-billed or otherwise) impacted their crops. And, many communities were built and sustained through sharing food and other resources and skills, as people had little money but spent their time in trying to be useful to one another.
In California, I am blessed with an abundant variety of wild, feral, and invasive plants to eat. California's Mediterranean climate, one of only six on Earth, along with its extreme geographies (highest point in lower 48, lowest point in North America, 800 miles of marine coastline, over 2,400 miles of inland waterways, 11,000 ft. trench off the Central Coast, etc.) create tremendous opportunities for all kinds of plants to make their home here.
Sadly, this isn't always good for California's habitats. Giant river reed, the material I use to make my trellises, is a horrible riparian invasive that creates literal holes in the habitat - they provide no cover for natives, no food for fauna, no canopies for nesting, and their roots probably exude toxins that clear nearby plant species.
Others aren't as bad. Himalayan blackberry and eucalyptus, while also terribly invasive, at least provide food and cover for some natives. Eucalyptus may even be the reason for healthy monarch butterfly populations, as millions of them overwinter in Santa Cruz, and feed off the winter-flowering trees.
Of course, there are California's native plants, that tremendous cache of floral diversity with many useful traits. California is blessed with more plant taxa than all other states, combined, well over 5,000, and many of these are varieties of familiar genera. For example, the world has about 150 varieties of Ribes, the gooseberries, currants, etc. - and 30 of them are native to California.
This year, we've eaten nettles, mallow, a small variety of berries, morel mushrooms, and figs. Knowing your places, your lands,and knowing what you can glean from them is an important part of homesteading, and is even important and successful in the city. Many people plant fruiting trees and shrubs as ornamentals. Others often take off in urban edges, the progeny of past plantings or escaped children planted by the wind, water, or birds and other animals. Our local Lowe's, for example, grows a shrub variety of pomegranate in their parking lots. Purple plums and mulberries abound throughout Sacramento, as do fennel, mustard, walnuts, and chicory in the edgelands. Of course, nearly everybody grows roses, whose hips make great syrups and teas. A person can acquire, for free, some pretty expensive sides and condiments.
Having good neighborly relations with folks who can provide you access to their wild-growing crops is also important to living off the land. My friendships include folks around as long as I can remember, farmers who've provided access for hunting, fishing, and picking figs and river reed, and newer friendships like Hank Shaw, who just last week offered us some great meats, including a chinese sausage we'll devour in a couple of days. In exchange, lately, we've been able to give eggs from our ducks. Lots of eggs. We've also been blessed with tomatoes, which is typically a reason to lock one's door in the Summer (to avoid more freebies), but this year, due to the weather, we've been able to give some away with glad hearts receiving them.
I also give away non-food items, like flies tied from my ducks' feathers, and extra river reed I've cut for garden infrastructure. I wanted to make a walnut stain from the inedible walnuts dropped, half-eaten, by squirrels, and I still hope to make a batch.
Homesteading, even part-time in the city, brings a number of fun benefits. And in addition to the expertise one gets from gardening, husbandry, naturalism, food preparation and preservation, a person also gets to share.
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