While many of you may have been experiencing the wonders of spring for quite some time, our little valley in the heart of the Cascade Mountains has reached the final thaw, releasing a rolling tide of greenery. Amidst the vibrant sea is one of my treasured wild edibles, Stinging Nettle, Urtica dioica.
Stinging nettle is aptly named. The hairs on the tips of leaves contain a sac of formic acid that penetrate the skin, creating an unpleasant burning sensation that can last up to 12 hours. Now, here’s an interesting fact: Quileute seal hunters used to rub themselves with stinging nettles before going out to sea to help keep them awake throughout the night. Why bother harvesting and eating this risky plant? The health benefits are astounding: protein, iron, potassium, manganese, calcium, vitamin C, and vitamin A. The taste is unparalleled, distinctly green and fiery.
I am fortunate to live in a pocket of the Pacific Northwest where stinging nettles are abundant. Well, fortunate is relative as my fortune changes when I discover new fields of the species during mid-summer runs. Stinging nettles grow throughout most of North America in deep, rich soil or near moisture and frequently shady locations from sea level to low mountains. The plant is easy to identify. The stem is straight, and the coarsely toothed dark green leaves are simple and opposite, egg to heart-shaped.
Sometimes you have to be adventurous and touch the leaves to confirm the identification. Last year when I revisited my favorite nettle patch, I noticed that the small hairs on the leaves weren’t stinging me. I was intrigued, thought maybe I had developed immunity, and harvested regardless. After making a large batch of “nettle” pesto, something seemed off. The pesto wasn’t fiery as usual, but I felt fine. In re-examining the patch with my guidebook and proceeding to rub the “nettle” on my face because my “fingers had lost the sensation,” I realized my nettle wasn’t nettle. What a stupid mistake this could have been! Always double check your guidebooks and be certain before you eat anything wild. I was extremely lucky and happened to discover a new treat, Fendler’s waterleaf.
Foraging for Stinging Nettle
Collecting stinging nettle does not have to be a painful procedure. Never touch the nettles with your bare hands; wear gloves, bring scissors and a sack. Harvesting should happen at the onset of growth, collecting the stems with the top four leaves of the plant intact. The first shoots are nutritionally dense and have lower levels of toxins. I like to harvest plentifully within the first month of growth, eating as freshly as possible then preserving the rest.
Cooking Stinging Nettles
Nettles must be cooked. One method of cooking is dehydrating straight after picking. The slow drying process eliminates the toxins on the hairs. The other method is to throw the leaves into boiling water for 3-4 minutes then blanch in ice water 2-3 minutes, and drain. From here, I prefer to cook them on medium heat in a saucepan with a little bit of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Other favorite recipes are nettle quiche and pesto. Pesto can be eaten fresh or frozen in ice cube trays for the rest of the year. NPR’s Kitchen Window Nettles Bring Spring to the Kitchen has several great recipes.
Introducing wild edibles into your diet is a great way to spark your immune system with natural, complex vitamins and nutrients that our mainstream food chain has lost. When I forage, I feel a natural connection to the environment and a sense of gratitude for provisions that grow freely. A number of inspiring books can be found on the subject. Two guidebooks that I frequently use for my locale include: Northwest Foraging by Doug Benoliel and All That the Rain Promises and More by David Aurora. The Wild Table by Connie Green and Sarah Scott is a visually stimulating walk-through of seasonal foraged food and recipes.
Until next time, happy hunting.