Foraging

I did something this weekend that I've been meaning to do for years. I went foraging for nettles to make nettle soup.

I've always wondered what it tasted like, I'm not sure why it's always appealed, but it has. The thing is that you need to pick the nettles before they flower. Which actually means there is a small window from when they start to grow until they flower. It really has to be an April thing. It always seems to be something I think of doing around July - by which time the nettles are beginning to look weather worn and the insects have spent plenty of time nomming on them.

So why did I remember it this year. Well, son had his driving test on Saturday. I was literally sick with nerves, far more nervous then him. We'd agreed that we'd go out at 09:00 so he could practice his menouvers and be back at 10:00. He was leaving at 11:00 with husband to drive to Burgess Hill for his test (more about that later). I knew that if I was anywhere near him between 10:00 and 11:00 my nerves would move to him.

When I took dog out for a walk at 07:00 I noticed that the nettles were looking perfect for picking and on top of that and much to my excitement I found multiple patches of wild garlic. The decision was made, once we got back from the practice I'd take myself out into the woods to forage. 

As the woods have multiple dogs in them I needed to be very selective with my picking. I needed to wade into the nettles a bit and only take those nettles from the very top of the plant, thus reducing the chance of foraging dog wee along with the nettles. I was clever enough to remember gloves, but not clever enough to consider my legs and with 3/4 length trousers on, my legs are still stinging now.

The wild garlic was more of a challenge, this was very much at ground level. I ended up entering the far wood, the one that's only usually populated by foxes and rabbits. I was just about to give up and suddenly moments before I gave up I found a great patch of wild garlic. 

Arriving home with my booty husband and son were literally walking out of the house. I made myself a coffee but my stomach was churning with nerves so I hit the kitchen and started on my nettle soup. It was a good thing I washed the leaves carefully - multiple bugs and a snail were discovered - I'm going to ignore the fact that other things may have been missed.

With the wild garlic I looked online about how to keep it and went for the option of making it into paste with some olive oil. I then bagged it up and put it in the freezer. I'll use it for a bbq or similar later in the summer.

The nettle soup took quite a while to make - which is never good as far as I'm aware - I made myself a small cup and drank it. It tasted.... OK. I mean not miraculous or anything. I then put the remainder of the soup in the fridge. I'll finish it on Tuesday - that gives me enough time to discover if I picked somthing dubious and I'm about to die. I thought I'd test on myself rather than rest of family. Though rest of family are refusing to try any of it (party poopers).

I then curled up on the sofa to wait, checking my messages every 5 minutes. Nothing. Husband and son came through front door, son looked glum. As I'm irritatingly positive about life, I waited, was he pretending to put on a glum face so he could then go 'ta da'? But no, he had failed.

I really feel for him actually. He's genuinely a great driver, what had caught him out was doing the test in Burgess Hill. We'd selected Burgess Hill as a test centre nearish us that's not as chaotic as Brighton. The problem is that we don't know Burgess Hill. Husband sometimes works from there, but he just heads for the office and doesn't really explore the area.

You may remember that around Christmas his instructor failed his instructors driving test and had to stop teaching him. This meant that son had missed one of the most important parts of instruction, being driven around the test routes so that he knew some of the oddities that they had to catch out learners. Unfortunately this is exactly what he failed on. There was a bridge with a separate lane for high vehicles and he took the wrong lane, then there was a complex roundabout and he took the wrong lane on that as well.

My heart breaks for him. There is no way he'd have failed on those if he'd been through with his instructor. He was however, as ever, very stoic and grown up about the failure. Seeing it as an irritation rather than a disaster. He's already booked his next test, the earliest he could get was.... October (madness), but he's going to try to get a cancellation. So watch this space. 

I'd quite like him to pass during the summer, that way he can get familiar with driving into school before the nights draw in. He has to drive across the Downs to get to the main road and in the winter the road over the Downs is pitch black and is often swathed in fog. So ideally by the time he encounters that the route will be old news.

On Sunday I went around to sister-in-law's house (well she's my sister-in-law until June, when the Divorce comes through). We are planning Dad's 90th birthday party for June. Her house is stunning - first time I've been there, it's where she moved when she and my brother split up. I'm so jealous of her lovely secluded and, importantly, flat garden. It's the perfect place for a 90th Birthday garden party.

And that's it really, not the most exciting of weeks - but too much excitement builds unrealistic expectations!!!!!