One of the most exciting things to find and eat at this time of year is Laetiporus sulphureus, commonly and aptly named “Chicken of the Woods”. Appearing from April and sticking around into November, this bracket fungus grows mainly on dead and dying Oaks in the UK. It is nice and easy to recognise but may be inaccessibly high for foragers without crampons. Look for the distinctive clusters of overlapping fans that are bright yellow, turning more orangey as the specimen matures. It takes a good while to establish itself before the fruit actually appears, but once you have located one of these, you will generally be able to revisit it for several years.
This is a great eater and it really does behave and taste a little like chicken when you cook it. It is important, though, if it is your first time, to try a small quantity as it has been known to cause stomach upsets in some people – and it must ALWAYS be cooked. When gathering it, make sure you pick the younger yellow fans as older parts of the fruit are more bitter and tough.
When you get them home, clean them up and chop into slices. The mushroom will keep well in the freezer for later use. I generally blanch them before cooking them, to be sure that they are well cooked and to take any bitterness off. My favourite way to eat these is to make up a fairly heavy batter to dip them in and then fry up some “chicken nuggets” using oil that has been sitting for a week or so with some lemon rind in it to give it a citrussy edge. You can use it as you would use chicken in any recipe but make sure that it is always well cooked.
Please don’t use my Foraging Friday posts for identification purposes, get a couple of decent books to double check your identification. You are responsible for what you eat. Follow the guidance in my article on “Picking and Identifying Edible Mushrooms“. I won’t be held responsible for people falling out of trees, either (ahem).
This is a long “thinking out loud” post and so I apologise but also want to say at the outset that I am a work in progress and just finding my way along; so I’m happy to engage in constructive discussion.
Sometimes I am embarrassed to admit that it was “Skinny Bastard” (The male version of “Skinny Bitch“) that tipped the balance for me. It is rampant vegan propaganda, it is emotive, it repeatedly uses a mere handful of original scientific sources, and it relies on shock tactics but … it was enough to provoke me to respond to some nagging thoughts in the back of my mind.
I think the most significant change came when I was empowered to challenge the myth that humans NEED animal products in order to thrive. I had enough good ammunition for this from three years at university, studying anthropology and particularly specialising in behavioural ecology – but I had never really worked it through. If I didn’t need meat then the only arguments in favour of it were that it tasted nice and (as I’ll discuss shortly) what we think of as “delicious” is culturally constructed.
The first and easy step was to stop eating meat. For this, I was convinced initially by the environmental arguments and secondly by the animal welfare perspective and the health implications. I had already reduced meat consumption deliberately in light of the recognition that our western habits of meat-eating once or twice a day are simply unsustainable in global terms. Giving up meat is a “no-brainer”.
It is easy to give up meat and it is enormously enjoyable to rediscover the joy of vegetables in their own right. The only awkwardness was dealing with the social fallout of changing from someone who would eat anything to being the fussy one when giving and receiving hospitality or eating out.
Initially, I determined to be vegetarian at home but when receiving hospitality, to allow gratitude to triumph and to eat whatever people were kind enough to prepare for me. However, a vegetarian friend gently suggested that this was ethically inconsistent and that abstaining from meat at all times was an opportunity to “witness” to my moral principles. Fair point. So now I was the fussy one and proud of it.
I quickly surmised that all the arguments in favour of abstaining from meat also held for dairy as well. I have had quite a bee in my bonnet about it ever since as my “Milk Monday” posts will make clear. At the end of the day, dairy products are not kind to animals, the environment or our bodies. It is clear to me that the only morally consistent way someone can be vegetarian but continue to consume dairy is (once again) because of taste. I know a few vegetarians who simply do not eat meat because they don’t like the taste of it. That’s fine, but if there is an ethical dimension to the choice then I don’t see how it is consistent to eat dairy which is just as dependent on slaughter and exploitation and just as damaging to the environment as meat. In fact, as Gary L. Francione points out (rightly I reckon) that there is more animal suffering in a glass of milk than in a pound of steak.
So dairy was off the menu, too. At this stage I had not given much thought to eggs and didn’t want to go there just yet, relying on them for nutritional reasons and not yet having got used to cooking differently.
At this stage it was interesting to note some of the responses:
What do you do for protein?
Well, we don’t need as much protein as we think we do. 50-60 grams a day is enough and we can get that from a variety of nuts pulses, grains, vegetables and fungi.
What about Calcium?
Firstly it is not a matter of forcing as much calcium down our throats as possible, there are other factors that affect the absorption of calcium and particularly the need for vitamin D and magnesium. Secondly, there are plentiful non-dairy sources of calcium, like brown bread and green vegetables.
What about B vitamins?
Again these can be sourced from judicious use of green vegetables, fruit, yeast extracts and so on in the diet but I do take a supplement and some of the soya products I use are fortified.
What about humanely reared and slaughtered animals and “happy” milk?
These responses are getting into more interesting territory. Is there such a thing as “humane slaughter”. I think there might be. Roadkill might be a good example of this. The animal doesn’t see it coming and death is hopefully instantaneous. It is possible to sneak up on a hog and stun it before bleeding it, sure, but unless I saw the animal die I can’t be sure; and all the meat available to me comes from a process that happens behind closed doors. I cannot guarantee that just because the packet says it had a nice life and died happy that this is true.
There are different sorts of Happy Milk, too. The bottom line is that in order to consume milk we have to take from a cow what was intended for its calf and we at least need to rely on it to produce enough for us as well as the calf. From where I am standing, all this seems to be quite bizarre considering that milk is a luxury and not a necessity. Nobody would suckle from a cow, but this is what we do, albeit in a clinically removed way. I suggested that it would make more sense if supermarkets sold human milk but who is going to agree that that is a good idea?
Why don’t you eat, say, wild caught fish?
Good question. The person who asks this has seen that there are environmental implications for farmed or trawled fish, “but surely a salmon that has been hunted with a fair chance of escaping the hook is okay?” Now the question comes down to an animal’s capacity to suffer and a human’s moral right to inflict that suffering. It was pondering this question that lead me to take another step toward veganism.
I concluded that there is enough scientific evidence to suggest that birds, mammals and fish are sentient beings with a capacity to suffer. I have also thought long and hard about my right to be complicit in the infliction of pain and distress in any form. I have concluded that it is not acceptable, and it could in fact be dangerous to our collective conscience as a race.
In conversation, I keep coming back to the fact that consuming animal products is a choice based on taste rather than necessity. To abstain from them is not to make a great sacrifice at all but to embrace an integrated and wholistic way of life that is non-violent and ethically consistent. We are addicted to animal products and that can change. Honestly, food actually “tastes” better this way – in the broadest sense of the word. Show me an aubergine or a pile of lentils and a steak and ask me which one “tastes” better and there is no competition. For some, purely on the level of chemical pleasure, the steak might taste better, but surely there is more to the flavour of something than that? When we elevate the stimulation of the senses above morality we are on shaky ground.
This is what is at the front of my mind when people in conversation try to ascertain under what circumstances I might be prepared to consume animal products. There is a sense that they are trying to find a way for me or them to escape from the ethical ban and find an acceptable way to maintain the addiction. That is honestly what it feels like to me. Whichever way I look at it I can’t escape the conviction that the aubergine is a wholesome, joyful and virtuous thing and the steak and cheese have nothing to commend them. I don’t need rescuing from an austere self-imposed diet I just want other people to be set free.
More recently I have stumbled across a new sort of human, a growing global movement with a compelling vision of a vegan world in the future.
Abolitionists are part of a movement that draws inspiration from those who campaigned to end slavery in bygone times. They emphasise the personhood of animals and challenge our “speciesist” ideals. At the same time, their critique goes deeper, challenging any form of oppression from a non-violent platform. In years to come, they believe we will look back on our exploitation of animals in the same way that we now regard slavery. Abolitionists are highly critical of “welfarists” who they regard as enemies of the true and fundamental ethical shift that needs to take place. The welfarists are just soothing our consciences without tackling the moral problem. I can’t do all the arguments justice here but encourage the curious to explore.
I am really grateful to the abolitionists for the debate they are opening up and the ways they have helped me to think through my own ethical choices. However, I am not quite ready to go all-in there.
From a pragmatic point of view, I would like to know what the plan is for humanity to transition away from dependence (psychological and otherwise) on animal products. Here I think some kind of “step-down” process would be necessary. We have created this monster and it needs to be dismantled carefully otherwise we have herds of dairy cows turned out to die. Transitioning to small-scale localised agriculture practicing as humanely as possible in respect of animals may be a way to go? From an educational point of view, too, welfarist organisations such as Peta and Animal Aid have helped me to progress in my thinking and have awakened my conscience rather than merely soothing it.
I guess that is why I want to keep exploring dairy issues on Milk Mondays by keeping the debate open and exploratory, rather than coming down hard on one side.
Gary L. Francione who is a primary architect of the abolitionist approach seems like quite a reasonable guy who wants to really have conversations with people and help them think. But some of his disciples come across as a bit shrill in their attacks. I can understand, because sometimes I want to shout at people to think about their choices and want to aggressively dismantle their thinking. I have not made any progress by being attacked but through having the opportunity for dialogue without feeling judged.
What about the Inuit?
Is there an abolitionist answer for ethnic groups who have good reason to depend on animals for survival because of where they live? It is difficult to see how their way of life could be suddenly altered without causing more suffering.
Ultimately, I think I am on a subtly different track from the abolitionists while very much appreciating their contribution. At the end of the day, it is us, not the animals, who are thinking about these issues and have the power to do something about them. That is a reflection of the fact that humans are uniquely placed in a position of responsibility and stewardship in relation to the rest of creation. I think this is not coincident but divine design. It is out of that sense of responsibility that I am making my choices. That makes me speciesist because I think humans are special – it’s what we do with that specialness that matters.
Scripture begins and ends with a vision of a vegan world. Originally, humankind lives harmoniously in a garden, eating fruit and lording it over creation without a hint of exploitation. Ultimately, even the lion eats grass in a new creation and nothing hurts or harms on God’s holy mountain. I think that is the creator’s ultimate intention. That’s my dream, too. Being vegan gives me a taste of a time yet to come and is part of making it a reality now.
The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like the ox; and dust shall be the serpent’s food. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain,” says Yahweh. (Isaiah 65:25 – WEB)
While most of the UK is under several inches of snow, there’s not much opportunity for foraging but people might be thinking of their Christmas wish lists so here’s a quick guide to the books on my foraging shelf.
Probably the most essential and popular book on wild food in the UK. Originally published in 1972, it has certainly stood the test of time. I have a very early hardback edition, from 1973 with a few colour plates and comprehensive line drawings. The more recently available editions of this classic are illustrated with full colour pictures that are more than adequate for identifying foods, although I would still recommend supplementary books if edible fungi is what you are after.
Mabey covers absolutely everything that you might want to forage, cut, dig, wade or climb for, including: shellfish, nuts, fungi, roots, herbs and vegetables, seaweed, spices, flowers and fruits. There’s a handy appendix on poisonous plants, too. He includes insightful comments on the history of the wild foods he describes and their uses as well as plenty of anecdotal material that will enrich any foraging expedition. All the usual suspects are there, from Samphire to Ceps, but this is a great book for the more adventurous who might like to try for Monk’s Rhubarb or White Mustard.
The book is a handy rucksack pocket size. The only things missing from this are more details on cooking and preparing and maybe some photographic plates – but you can’t have everything.
This is a treasure and bang up to date, published in 2007, and packed with full colour photographs that show the foods in their typical settings. A double page layout is given to each food and the sections are helpfully divided by typical location, i.e. Woodland Plants, Riverside Plants, Garden Visitors and so on. The 250 pages cover plants primarily, although there is a well illustrated Woodland Fungi section.
The layout is very easy on the eye and each entry covers what, where and when to look for the foods as well as comments on taste and use and any cautions to be taken. A handy little blue box for each entry contains a “foragers checklist” of the most essential features to look for. The prize, though, is a recipes section to get the mouth watering with visions of “Watercress Soup” and “Parasol Platters”.
Peter Jordan is the foremost mushroom guru of the British Isles and I would consider any one of his excellent guides (there are several) to be absolutley essential. This volume got me started in mushroom foraging. It contains over 300 colour photographs to aid identification and the book is divided into edibles and poisonous sections, with a thorough introduction to fungi foraging, picking, storing and equipment in general.
About 35 edible species are covered, with at least two pages for each entry, that will provide an excellent starting point in the repertoire of a forager. There are a couple of odd items that you are unlikely to find in the UK, like the truffles and matsutake, but this book is not exclusively for the British Isles. It is also too big to lug around in the field, but perfect to keep at home for consultation.
This book is full of sound advice that comes from a lifetime of safely foraging for and eating fungi. Peter Jordan’s sound motto was “if in doubt leave it out”. The species covered in The New Guide to Mushrooms are generally among those that would be easiest to identify for a beginner and he always includes some caution about specific poisonous look alikes to avoid.
With a mouthful of a title, this book suggests that it is more of the kind of scholarly guide that I would recommend every forager keeps at home to check identification. It is still not completely exhaustive but this is more of a mycological work.
The species are divided by family and genus and details are included in each description such as the microscopic properties of the spores alongside colour illustrations. The illustrations are not sufficient to get a positive identification but a book like this is vital to gaining a broader understanding of fungi and identifying less well known, yet often very abundant, species – edible or not. It is not written with the forager in mind but does indicate ediblity.
In Biblical times, what was a land “flowing with milk and honey” given that that land was very hot and they had no fridges to store the milk? It sounds pretty smelly to me.
For thousands of years before the invention of pasteurisation and refrigeration, nomadic peoples had found ways of storing dairy in a hot climate and while moving from place to place. Among cultures such as the Masai and the sheperds of the Caucasus, these techniques are still the only way to keep milk. For such people, the word “milk” never means the homogenised cold white stuff we love to quaff by the glass and pour on our cornflakes. Rather, it is some sort of sour, fermented derivative that is nutritionally enhanced and partially digested by the bacteria it contains.
Culture complexes of yeasts and bacteria are used the world over to create kefir, yoghurts, and cottage cheeses – each region historically developed their own unique cultures. When added to the milk, these cultures go to work, in some ways speeding up the decaying process of milk but keeping it safe to drink. The growth of the “good” microorganisms is vigorous enough to repress the development of other harmful ones and often renders the environment too acidic and hostile for the “bad” bacteria. Many products now available in western supermarkets and marketed as health drinks with “friendly bacteria” or “probiotics” are simply derived from these traditional cultures and can easily be made at home.
Kefir is a “grain” treasured by shepherds in the caucasus region and enjoying a resurgence among health food enthusiasts. The culture itself can be divided and passed on from one person to another, often taking on unique regional characteristics. Added to milk, kefir grains cause fermentation, acting on the sugars to produce acidic by products and alcohol. Kefir drinks can be made and kept at room temperature, varying in thickness and alcoholic content according to the specific culture and how it is treated. It is often mixed with salt or sugar to make a refreshing drink.
Lacto-fermentation has been described as “the poor man’s refrigerator.”
Raw and Curdled Milk
The Maasai people of Africa are one of the oldest pastoral cutures on the planet and their entire life revolves around their cattle who provide milk and blood and, only very occasiaonally, meat. In spite of consuming more fat than would be healthy for a westerner, cardiovascular disorders are virtually unheard of.
For the Maasai, the primary way of storing milk is in the cow. A Maasai is never far from the source so can just squeeze out some raw milk and drink it on the spot, sometimes mixed with blood. To preserve it, milk is kept in hollowed out gourds that are blackened inside with smoke that may go some way to keeping the contents. The milk is then allowed to curdle and is still different to the foul smelling lumpy stuff we get if we leave the milk bottle out, by virtue of it having a rich complex of microorganisms in it to begin with. I have spoken to people who have had the dubious pleasure of drinking this stuff and by all accounts it is not to everyone’s taste, although highly nutritious and prized by the people themselves.
Slate and Teracotta Fridges
In the pantries of old victorian houses it is still possible to find a huge slab of slate on which dairy would have been stored. In temperate climates, the cooling properties of slate were sufficient to keep cheeses and milk at a low temperature for every bit as long as in our modern refrigerators. The victorians also made use of terracotta pots that had been soaked in water. As the water evaporated off from the porous material it would carry heat away, keeping the contents cool.
A “pot-in-a-pot” fridge is simple to construct using unglazed terracotta pots and sand, and this technique has been used in arabic countries for hundreds of years to preserve vegetables and dairy products. The Arabs call this type of refrigerator a “Zeer” pot.
Given that the refrigerator is only an invention of the last sixty years in human history and that it consumes up to 20% of our household’s energy, we could do well to learn how to live without it for the sake of the planet and discover a range of new tastes and techniques in the process.
As the Autumn wears on and the berries are over, some of the most exciting foraging is to be accessed with a trowel, notably horseradish, wild parsnip and dandelion. Dandelions are easy to find, you may not even have to go further than your garden, and at this time of year, the roots are at their fattest. You will need to dig them up as they can plunge downwards some 30cm below the surface.
The most popular use for dandelion roots is to make dandelion coffee. It has a good, nutty taste, very much like coffee but without the caffeine, so makes a good coffee substitute. To make dandelion coffee, clean the roots thoroughly and chop them into short lengths of about a centimetre. Place them on a baking tray and dry in the oven for about 30 minutes on a low heat of about 50 centigrade; then roast them for a further 20-30 minutes or so at about 150 centigrade. Keep checking during the roasting process and take them out when they are crisp and browned through without burning. The roasted root pieces can then be ground in a coffee grinder and used as normal coffee grounds.
Dandelion as a Root Vegetable
Dandelion roots can also be treated like a root vegetable, something like a “very poor man’s parsnip”. The flavour is quite bitter but also has something of the artichoke about it. Dandelion roots are not to everyone’s taste, due to the bitterness but the best of them can be brought out by careful preparation.
Clean and scrub the roots but do not peel them. They will cook quite quickly if roasted under the grill for about 5 minutes with a little olive oil. They can also be gently boiled for about 5 minutes until tender. Serve with melted butter and pepper as a delicate side dish. After they have been coocked the roots are very easy to peel and would make a good addition to a root vegetable mash with sweet potatoes or turnip.
“Opportunity knocks only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell.”
Can you tell the difference between an opportunity and a temptation? As a freelancing homeworker with a gazillion things clamouring for my attention and no-one telling me what to do from day to day and from hour to hour, it is really quite important that I learn to tell the difference.
I am not a “go getter” in life. I always default to passivity and it’s not something I am proud of but I also reject both go-getter-ism and let-it-happen-ism. There is a third way that assumes that everyone encounters opportunities, maybe five a day, regardless of who they are and what their circumstances. Each opportunity requires active appropriation – it’s the perfect blend of waiting for it and reaching out to grab it. It is not lazy for, as John James Ingalls said, “opportunities are usually disguised as hard work so few people recognise them”. By the slow accumulation of taken opportunities, massive change takes place.
” … the only place where you can get away from Opportunity is to lie down and die. Opportunity does not trouble dead men, or dead ones who flatter themselves that they are alive.”
It is simply not true for anyone to say that they do not have opportunities. It would be truer to say that we are simply quite poor at detecting their presence. Preoccupied with the demands of the rat-race and the need to maintain our standard of life and retire with a tidy sum, it is easy to think that there is nothing else for us.
Deep down, I think we all know the difference between an opportunity and a temptation and we can spot it well enough; we just want to kid ourselves that that temptation is really an opportunity.
Opportunities have a different flavour to them, they are like the hint of a scent in the breeze. They are a time-limited phenomenon that catches your attention for a moment, just like that knock on the door. I have a friend who has no qualms about politely addressing strangers on the train, “Please excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing you talking about … X … and I happen to be quite interested in that area, myself.” Conversation ensues, contacts are exchanged, connections are made. I envy that ability, but it is a highly developed instinctive recognition of the scent of opportunity. Opportunity, hangs momentarily in the air and then it is gone.
I see opportunities as doorways that stand open for a short time before closing and disappearing. They are always portals to a whole host of further possibilities. They often catch us on the hop and we never have enough time to weigh them before we need to decide. Because they are so transient, we have to prepare ourselves mentally to capitalise on opportunities and this involves being very aware, listening for that timid knock above the incessant, buzz of temptations.
Temptation is less delicate, in fact it is downright rude and it capitalises on missed opportunities saying, “I’m still here, you know … if that other thing doesn’t work out for you, you can always try me.” These nagging possibilities are often the good that is the enemy of the best if they are not monstrous time sinks with rapidly diminishing returns. An opportunity can take a few seconds to engage with and bring massive returns. A temptation sucks everything you have got and when you have finally extricated yourself from it, it sits in the corner making faces at you.
“I knock unbidden once at every gate — If sleeping, wake — if feasting, rise before I turn away — it is the hour of fate, And they who follow me reach every state Mortals desire, and conquer every foe Save death, but those who doubt of hesitate, Condemned to failure, penury and woe, Seek me in vain and uselessly implore, I answer not, and I return no more.” (John James Ingalls, 1833-1900)
I wish the reader all the best in staying awake and saying “yes” and “no” to the right things today.