Spring tonic
Getting back to nature and back to eating greens
“I think I write the way I do because of a vitamin deficiency. I don’t eat any vegetables. I just eat meat and potatoes. I think I’m trying to make up in my songwriting what I lack in vitamins.” — John Prine
If he didn’t already know what a spring tonic is, John Prine was the kind of person who would have been disappointed to learn it isn’t an alcoholic drink. But I bet he knew. With roots in western Kentucky, he was country to the bone.
A spring tonic is a mix of wild plant parts traditionally gathered at the end of winter in many rural parts of America. Back in the day, folk survived winter on a Prine-style diet of rations that had dwindled to the likes of flour, bacon, potatoes and sugar. After months indoors on a white, greasy diet, the first hunt of the year for green, vitamin-rich plants was an awakening for the mind, body and belly.
I don’t know that Prine went foraging for wild plants in his spare time, but even if he didn’t long for chlorophyll, he acknowledged vegetables as a path to salvation. His advice to “plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, and try to find Jesus on your own” remains a three-line anthem to generations of back-tothe-landers.
Here in our first post-Prine spring we are largely stuck at home, or close to it, and there may not be a better time to forage the neighborhood for your own local spring tonic. I’m going to tell you how to serve it in the form of a gathered plant pesto. If you told him it was Weed Pesto, as I call it, the man with the twinkle in his songs might have used it.
Wild and edible
Every region will have its own list of edible, nutritious, ideally palatable spring greens. And there are some plants that are available nearly everywhere, like dandelion, lambsquarters, chickweed, purslane, dock, sorrel, cattails, nettles, watercress, asparagus and fiddlehead ferns. Even Johnny jump ups, also called violas, are edible, with a fresh, minty taste.
Each of these plants will have its own specifics for harvesting and cooking. Nettles, which have a fragrant, almost fishy taste, require scissors and a bag, and perhaps gloves, and should always be eaten cooked or blended unless you have the tongue of a bear. Dandelions, which are bitter as a good IPA beer, can be eaten raw or cooked; every single inch, from root to flower. Ditto for chickweed, which tastes a bit like parsley and licorice.
Many of the same principles for collecting wild plants also apply in your backyard. Every would-be forager must assess the grounds at their disposal and strategize accordingly.
The mentality involved in foraging is one to which any food shopper can relate. We go to the supermarket in search of one grocery item, but it’s sold out and we have to improvise, and come home with another.
But the wild food we gather has not been vetted for edibility like grocery store food. Before you put anything in your mouth, find a trusted reference on the edible plants of your area. Search any piece of land that is legally available and clean of pesticides and other chemical and yellow animal fluids. Always do your harvesting away from any trail, and don’t ever wipe out a location, so the patch can recover. And if you are lucky enough to have a backyard, explore every square inch.
How to enjoy
The easiest way to enjoy these plants might be in a saute pan, a handful of spring greens at a time, with salt, onions and olive oil. If you have a decent blender, this pesto recipe is thick with flavor, fat and chlorophyll. Toss it onto hot noodles. Scramble it into eggs or migas. Or just eat it off the spoon.
Pesto is one of the tastier ways to consume any green plant, especially those with strong flavors. It can incorporate essentially anything green, though some leaves, and combinations of leaves, will taste better than others. If not good enough, add more nuts, garlic, oil and cheese.
Our pesto will have nettles, but you could substitute any number of wild greens or weeds.