Brassica nigra

Brassica nigra
(flowers and seeds)

lots of mustard

Brassica nigra, or Black Mustard, is a common lowland weed, especially around cultivated farmland. It is fairly tall and noticeable, with lots clusters of yellow flowers at the top of it many branches. 

Unsurprisingly, it is a member of the Mustard family, with four petals and narrow seed pods about an inch long. This is typical of the mustard family. The stems are much branched, with clusters of yellow flowers at the top of each branch. The clusters are somewhat small, because it proceeds from bud to flower to seed in a short time, but it keeps growing new buds at the end of the stem, so there can be a lot of seed pods below the flowers. It can be distinguished from other mustards by how the mature seed pods grow pressed up against the stem ("appressed" in botany terms). The leaves are pointed and variously lobed, being quite large and compound at the bottom, and small at the top near the flowers and seed pods. The taste is also very distinctive. The whole plant has the flavor of mustard, and when raw, it is very pungent and spicy-hot.

The mustard flavor is the main reason for eating this plant. The leaves, flowers, buds, and the youngest stems can all be used to add some of that flavor to your food. The pungency is moderated by combining it with other foods or by cooking. It is not a green I would eat as a main course, but it is good when added as a flavoring to other foods.

But this plant is more important as a spice than as a food, and the seeds are the source of spicy-hot mustard. Other species, such as Brassica alba, are also used to make mustard, but they are less spicy-hot than Brassica nigra. 

Collecting the processing the seeds is a longer enterprise. First, you need to collect the branches full of seed pods. It is helpful to let them dry completely before trying to separate the seeds, by leaving them in a dry place for a week or more. Or even much more, if you want to save them for winter when you have less fresh plants to work with. They need to be threshed and winnowed similar to grains, but there are some differences because the seeds are so small. Threshing is fairly easy and similar to wheat. Just put the stems or seed pods in a cloth bag, and beat them with a thick stick for a few minutes. Winnowing is a bit more difficult than wheat because the seeds are small and nearly as light as the chaff. It is helpful to sift them through a screen to separate the seeds from the larger chaff. Then pour the seeds and chaff from one bucket to another in front of a fan to blow away the lighter chaff. Using a fan is better than natural wind, because it is more consistent, and you can move closer or farther from the fan to get the right amount of wind to blow the chaff without blowing away the seeds. Large, deep buckets are helpful, because the seeds have a tendency to bounce. Repeated sifting and winnowing will eventually leave you with clean mustard seeds.

Once you have your seeds, you can make mustard. The general recipe is 1 part mustard seeds to 2 parts water or other liquid. (And add a bit of turmeric if you want the mustard to actually be yellow.) The seeds need to be ground, and this can be done while dry or after soaking the seeds in water. If you are doing a small amount, grinding dry works better, because the wet seeds will stick to the sides of your spice grinder instead of falling into the blades. You could also use a mortal and pestle, but that will be a lot more work either way. Once the seeds are both ground and mixed with water, the chemicals in the mustard seeds start reacting, producing the spicy-hot pungency which is very intense in fresh mustard. It should be left out for a while until it mellows out a bit. The spiciness is also antibacterial, so you don't have to worry about it going bad. It is also common practice to extend the amount of mustard with some filler, such as flour or other meal. I have used wheat flower, almond flour, and other things. It does affect the taste much and gives you more mustard in the end.

Mahonia repens

Oregon Grape with berries

Oregon Grape (flowers)

There are several species of Oregon Grape. The most common in my area is Mahonia repens, which is a low, creeping species, usually found in our mountain forests, often under pine trees and on steep shady slopes, but also everywhere as a ground cover. Mahonia aquifolia is taller and more woody, and more commonly cultivated, and has volunteered in my yard. Mahonia fremontii is a species found in the desert, with even more prickly leaves. They are all used the same and taste similar.

It is recognized from the very tough, evergreen leaves, which have prickles along the edges. The flowers in the spring are yellow and the berries in the fall look blue, although they are actually purple with a light bloom on the surface. Many people mistake Oregon Grape for some kind of ivy or holly, because the leaves are tough and evergreen. Ivy does not have the prickles on the edges of the leaves, like Oregon Grape does. Holly has spiny leaf edges, but it has red berries instead of blue.

The berries are the edible portion of this plant. They are sour with unripe, but pleasantly tart with fully ripe. They can be enjoyed raw, although they have a few hard seeds which can either be spit out or swallowed. The best use for them is to make them into a jam or jelly. The added sugar offsets the tartness and results in a very good tasting jam. The taste is most similar to grape jelly, but with a unique flavor of its own. I use the normal recipe from a pectin package, following wthichever fruit variant uses the least sugar.

The roots are bright orangish-yellow on the inside, which you can see if you scrape off the outer root bark. This is the color of berberine, which is an antimicrobial alkaloid. Because of this, Oregon grape has many medicinal uses. The berberine is poorly absorbed in the body, so its main uses are a topical antimicrobial externally, and for gut infections internally.

On a taxonomic note, the genera Mahonia and Berberis used to be separated based on whether the leaves were compound or simple, but botanists have more recently decided that this distinction is unimportant because (among other things) hybridization occurs between the genera. The hand-wringing among the experts is ongoing, but the two genera should be considered synonyms, and all the species will probably end up being placed in the Berberis genus.

Streptopus amplexifolius

Streptopus amplexifolius

Streptopus amplexifolius is quite a mouthful, but it is a fairly close translation into Greek of the common name for this plant, which is known as Twisted-Stalk, or sometimes clasp-leaved twisted-stalk. The genus name comes from the Greek "streptos" meaning twisted, and "pous" meaning foot. It refers the the 90 degree angle in the stalk of the flower or fruit of this plant. "Amplexus" means clasped, and "folius" means leaf, so "amplexifolius" literally means clasp-leaf. It may be that the scientific name encourages the less used common name in this case. But that's enough etymology.

Note the 90⁰ angle in the
stalks of the flower/fruit

Twisted-stalk is a member of the Lily family, and it has a superficial resemblance to False Solomons Seal (Smilacina racemosa) because the leaves come off the stem on opposite sides as the stem bends slightly from side to side. Twisted-stalk leaves are are closer to being on a single plane than False Solomons Seal, but the main distinguishing feature is that False Solomons Seal flowers and fruit are in a cluster at the end of the stalk, while Twisted-stalk flowers and fruit are hidden singly underneath each leaf. It has a much closer resemblance to Fairybells (Prosartes trachycarpa). Fairybells are not as tall, and the leaves are slightly more rounded, but the main difference is that when you look under the leaves, the stalks of the flower or fruit do not have the 90 degree angle found in Twisted-stalk.

I usually find Twisted-stalk growing on the banks of small mountain streams. It loves having lots of water. (Fairybells does not need so much water. I usually find them in shady pine forests.) Small waterfalls where lots of water gets splashed about is a great environment for it. And sometimes it can be found on wet slopes which are kept damp with plenty of seepage. But I seldom see it in flat swampy or stagnant areas. It loves swiftly running streams, not bogs.

The flowers hang down from that 90 degree angle, and are typical white, six-petaled lily flowers. The fruit, when ripe, is red and oval shaped. The taste of the ripe fruit is soft and slimy. I have not tested it, but the ripe fruit is reputed to be mildly laxative when eaten in large quantities. This is one of those plants where I much prefer the taste of the unripe fruit, when it is still green. The unripe fruit is sweetish, crunchy, and has soft seeds. The taste is not entirely unlike cucumber. Another very good tasting part of the plant is the stem. On the lower stem, the outside is very fibrous, but after that is pealed away, the inner part of the stem is crunchy and sweet, and tastes like cross between cucumber and celery. Early settlers sometimes called this a cucumber plant because of the taste. The upper stems are still tender enough to be eaten without being peeled. And the leaves can be eaten raw or cooked. When raw, they are a little tough, and not as sweet. The taste is like cucumber with a little bit of onion mixed in. Boiling the leaves for 3-5 minutes makes them more tender and milder in flavor. I definitely prefer the boiled leaves over the raw ones. Use the leaves on the upper stems. The larger leaves from where the stem branches and downward do not seem to tenderize much when boiled.

Because nearly the entire above ground part of the plant can be eaten (minus the outer skin of the lower stems), this plant can provide a good amount of food, and the taste is pleasantly cucumberish either raw or cooked. This local abundance is unfortunately offset by the plant preferring to grow only under specific conditions, mainly on the banks of running streams, so it is not extremely abundant everywhere. If you are taking the whole plant, remember to harvest only small amounts, and only where you find a good healthy population. But sampling a few of the green fruit is a nice snack whenever you find it in the right condition.

Prosartes trachycarpa

Prosartes trachycarpa

Fairybells are a shade-loving member of the lily family, with large leaves growing on alternate sides of the stem in a flat plane so as to make as large of surface area as possible to catch the shady light. The flowers and fruit hang down under the leaves (like bells) where they are often hidden until you lift up the branch to find them. (I pulled the fruit up above the leaf to get the picture on the right.) It has largish three-lobed berries which are red when ripe. The latin name is either Prosartes trachycarpa or Disporum trachycarpum, depending on who you ask and when a source was published. The skin of the berries is thick and has a rough texture, which is one way it is distinguished from other species of Prosartes or Fairybells, by calling it Rough-fruited Fairybells.

The berries are edible. When ripe they are mildly sweet and filled with slightly slimy juice, but the taste is rather bland and they are full of hard seeds and the skin has a rough, almost leathery texture. They taste somewhat better when they are still green and unripe. They have a taste similar to cucumber, the berries are firmer and less slimy, and the seeds are softer and chewable, but the skin still has the rough texture. The stems are woody and the leaves are tough, so the berries are the only part worth eating.

The Blackfoot Indians have an interesting use for this plant, to clear foreign objects from an eye. [Moerman, Native American Ethnobotany, p. 202] A fresh seed is put in the eye and the eyelid closed. Then one rubs the eye until the seed comes out with the object sticking to it. I have not tried this myself, but I can understand how the slightly slimy juice would catch onto an object without irritating the eyeball, which is why it is important to use a seed fresh from the fruit.

Fairybells are a fairly close relative of Twisted-Stalk (Streptopus amplexifolius) which it resembles in many ways, and especially in the leaf structure. Twisted-Stalk is taller and likes very wet areas, being typically found next to small streams, while Fairybells are happy in any shady damp area. The flowers and fruit are a good way to distinguish them, because Twisted-Stalk has one flower or fruit growing from the axis of each leaf, the fruit is ovoid (not lobed), and the stalk of the flower or fruit has a 90 degree angle in the middle. Fairybells have the flower or fruit growing at the end of the branch in small cluster of 2 or 3. Twisted-Stalk also has much greater value as a food plant.

Stellaria media

Stellaria media

Chickweed (Stellaria media) is a common weed in most places. But unfortunately not where I live, which is semi-arid. Fortunately one can sometimes find it populated areas at lower elevations, where it has found its way with the help of people in one way or another.

The most distinguishing feature is the white petals, which are very deeply cleft into two parts, but if you look closely they are joined near the base. The leaves are fairly small and opposite on the stem. The stems tend to grow prostrate along the ground and can form dense mats of vegetation. 

The flavor of the greens is excellent, and I very much enjoy eating them raw whenever I can find them. If you are lucky enough to have a large amount of the greens they are excellent in soups, stir-frys, and even as a pesto.

They are high in vitamin C and has too many beneficial constituents to list here. They are an ideal micro-green (if you are into that fad) because of the great flavor and many health benefits.

Rosa woodsii

Rosa woodsii

There are several species of wild rose, but the common species in my area is Rosa woodsii, known by the common name of Woods' Rose. Wild roses are common and fairly easy to identify, with the typical rose thorns, compound leaves, and long canes which like to form dense brambles. They have large, five-petaled flowers, which are usually pink or whitish. The five petals is a notable difference from domesticated roses, which have been bred and grafted in order to get the domestic plants to produce a large number of petals. While this is very beautiful, it is not the natural state of roses. 

The fruit, called a rose hip, is the main edible part of all roses. It develops beneath the sepals (an "inferior ovary" in botanical terms) and has the appearance of a red, inflated end of the stem. It is full of hard seeds, and somewhat hairy inside, but you can split it open and scrape out the seeds. The taste can vary from plant to plant, but usually it is a fine tasting fruit, reminiscent of the smell of roses. The texture can vary from leathery in the fall, to soft in the winter, to dry and hard in the spring. Some people say the rose hips reach the peak of flavor after the first frost, so they are a good thing to forage in the late fall and are still available and tasty in the winter. They are very high in vitamin C, and because they remain on the plant all winter, when I stop by a rose bush in the winter to eat a few rose hips, I think of it as "taking my vitamins".

Rose hips also make a very well known and good tasting tea. Just dry the hips, with or without the seeds, and you can use them later to make tea. This is another good way to get vitamin C, which is always helpful to fight off sickness in the winter months, when colds and flus are common.

The other part of the rose which is commonly eaten is the petals. The wild rose petals usually have a slightly bitter taste to me. Personally I have found that the domestic rose petals are superior to the wild rose petals, both in taste and texture. They are usually larger, and it also helps that there are a lot more of them. They can be an interesting addition to a salad, or a decoration on desserts.

Pinus monophylla

Pinus monophylla cone,
with seeds ready to fall out

Pinyon Pines produce the largest pine nut, and thus the best for foraging and eating. There are two common species of Pinyon Pine, Pinus edulis (literally, edible pine) and Pinus monophylla (literally, one-leaved pine). They both produce very similar edible nuts, but Pinus edulis has two needles per packet, while Pinus monophylla has one needle per packet. Pinus monophylla still has the papery sheath around the base of the needle, but with only a single round needle coming out, it seems like an oddity compared to other pines. I live on the border between the two species, because P. monophylla is the dominant pinyon species to the west of me, while P. edulis is the dominant pinyon species eastward up to the great plains. The nearest Pinyon Pine forest to me is Pinus monophylla, so this article is about that species specifically, although everything I say applies equally to Pinus edulis, if you find that species.

The season for collecting pine nuts is in the fall, from September to October. Early in the season is green cone time, when you pick the unopened green cones off the trees. Late in the season you will be looking for fallen nuts on the ground. Some people, perhaps in other areas, are able to find good nuts which have already fallen, but I have no luck with the ones on the ground. Many are invaded by insects, and the critters abscond with all the goods nuts. So I recommend getting out early in the season and picking the green cones. You know it is time when some of them start to open, and you can pick the unopened ones as well. The green cones are thickly coated with pine resin, so using gloves to pick them is very highly recommended. Take them home and spread them out somewhere dry, probably outside unless you really like the overpowering scent of pine in your home. By the end of October, they should all have opened on their own. 

Some of the nuts may fall out on their own, especially if you place them upside down like they typically grow on the trees. But most of my nuts need a bit of help, so holding the cone in one gloved hand, I use a nut pick to loosen or pry the nuts out of the cones. The inside of the cone and the nuts do not have the resin on them, so after this step, the gloves are no longer needed. There are two nuts on most fertile scales, so a single cone can have up to 2 dozen nuts.

Pinyon pines produce a lot of bad nuts. This may be from not being properly pollinated or from insect attack. But I estimate that 2/3 to 3/4 of all the nuts are bad. The bad ones can be identified in various ways. Good nuts always have a very dark shell, although some dark shells may also contain bad nuts. When cracking them with rock or hammer, the bad ones are easily crushed because they are mostly hollow, while the good ones will offer some resistance because they are completely filled with the edible nut. By dumping all the nuts in water, you can reliably distinguish the nuts which are completely filled from the partially filled or empty nuts, because the good, completely filled nuts will sink. I checked some of the floating nuts with dark shells, and found that the nut meat inside them was flawed in some way and did not taste as good as those which sink. So the float test seems to be the quickest and most reliable way to separate good nuts from bad. 

Shelling the nuts is a labor intensive process. I'm still looking for a way to do it more efficiently. They are too small for most nutcrackers, so I tap them with a rock or hammer to crack the shell and then remove the shell by hand.

The raw nuts are very good tasting. They are soft and have a mild flavor which is slightly piney, but mostly fresh and starchy. I roasted some, with shells off, at 350° for 5-10 minutes. (One must be careful not to roast them too long or they will get too hard, so check them often.) The roasted nuts are crunchy with a good nutty flavor which is quite different from the the unroasted nuts. Both ways are excellent eating, and I like them both ways. But there is something about the roasted nuts which keeps me reaching for one more, and one more after that, and so on.