My very first post is about one of my favorite plants. I'm very sure it's appeared here a good few times before, but I can't say enough in favour of my old hedgerow friend.
Now I have read a thread here discussing the vile taste of hawthorn fruit leather. I read it and decided to add a little cinnamon and a sprinkle of brown sugar to the batch I had waiting to be prepared. I know these are not wild foods, but experimentation was required to see if wild equivelants were a worthwhile effort. The result? YUM! Sweet, spicy and subtlely delicious flavour that's like a mix of apple and cucumber (it somewhow works).
While gathering it struck me what a thoroughly reliable little tree the hawthorn is. Being among the first greens in spring and the last fruits in autumn. In Scotland (where it blooms later) we have a saying: "Dinnae leave yer jacket at home 'til the mayflowers are in full bloom. Ignore this at your peril!
Now even though I'm late in the season and had to gather at altitude for a good crop of berries, they were incredibly fresh. Quite the opposite of the maggot ridden rosehips I got last month. Even the ones that seemed insect damaged were clean and sweet when broken open. The only rejects were from easily detected bird damage, few and far between. This brings me to the Irish saying: "When all other fruit fails, be glad of haws".
I'm yet to sample the spring greens offered by the hawthorn so I can't comment there I'm afraid.
Despite the potential of those spikes to penetrate car tyres I almost never get jabbed. By comparison to the clawing, scratchy nature of brambles and rosehips the hawthorn is incredibly forgiving of any visitors to it's branches. Beware though, despite it's friendliness those little daggers can do so much worse than any hooked thorn to those who push their luck. I've never fished using improvised hooks but I imagine hawthorn spikes could easily hold fast the biggest of river fish and land it for a tasty dinner.
Finally the spiritual nature of the hawthorn. A home to fairies. To this day most farmers I know of will not chop down a hawthorn tree. To do so for anything other than a May-bush on the proper holiday is the worst of bad luck. I love how this ancient connection with the tree has survived to this day.
A prince among trees and a true wild food if you ask me! BTW I feel I should say this again although I'm sure you all know: Don't eat too much and don't eat the seeds! There's some chemicals there that could cause life threatening problems. Generosity demands respect after all.
Well, I'm done. Must say I'm looking forward to meeting like minded types and exchanging information. The day I took up bushcraft I was reborn as a complete infant in a new world....There's so very much to learn.
Peace!
Looking forward to meeting you all!
Now I have read a thread here discussing the vile taste of hawthorn fruit leather. I read it and decided to add a little cinnamon and a sprinkle of brown sugar to the batch I had waiting to be prepared. I know these are not wild foods, but experimentation was required to see if wild equivelants were a worthwhile effort. The result? YUM! Sweet, spicy and subtlely delicious flavour that's like a mix of apple and cucumber (it somewhow works).
While gathering it struck me what a thoroughly reliable little tree the hawthorn is. Being among the first greens in spring and the last fruits in autumn. In Scotland (where it blooms later) we have a saying: "Dinnae leave yer jacket at home 'til the mayflowers are in full bloom. Ignore this at your peril!
Now even though I'm late in the season and had to gather at altitude for a good crop of berries, they were incredibly fresh. Quite the opposite of the maggot ridden rosehips I got last month. Even the ones that seemed insect damaged were clean and sweet when broken open. The only rejects were from easily detected bird damage, few and far between. This brings me to the Irish saying: "When all other fruit fails, be glad of haws".
I'm yet to sample the spring greens offered by the hawthorn so I can't comment there I'm afraid.
Despite the potential of those spikes to penetrate car tyres I almost never get jabbed. By comparison to the clawing, scratchy nature of brambles and rosehips the hawthorn is incredibly forgiving of any visitors to it's branches. Beware though, despite it's friendliness those little daggers can do so much worse than any hooked thorn to those who push their luck. I've never fished using improvised hooks but I imagine hawthorn spikes could easily hold fast the biggest of river fish and land it for a tasty dinner.
Finally the spiritual nature of the hawthorn. A home to fairies. To this day most farmers I know of will not chop down a hawthorn tree. To do so for anything other than a May-bush on the proper holiday is the worst of bad luck. I love how this ancient connection with the tree has survived to this day.
A prince among trees and a true wild food if you ask me! BTW I feel I should say this again although I'm sure you all know: Don't eat too much and don't eat the seeds! There's some chemicals there that could cause life threatening problems. Generosity demands respect after all.
Well, I'm done. Must say I'm looking forward to meeting like minded types and exchanging information. The day I took up bushcraft I was reborn as a complete infant in a new world....There's so very much to learn.
Peace!
Looking forward to meeting you all!
