wild salad

For once, my cravings are actually in sync with the season. I want green in any way, shape, or form. I want to eat it, I want to sew it, I want to knit it and I want to weave it. There's nothing left, is there?

Here's how I collect a nice wild green salad. By no means does this include all the possibilities, even from my city garden -- this batch doesn't include dandelion, violet, wild lettuce, etc. And my definition of wild is any plant that takes care of itself -- that is, I don't plant it, water it, or fuss over it in any way.

I start out in the cold frame with some not-so-wild lettuce leaves, but keep reading, it's gets wild from here on in.

Horseradish, Armoracia rusticana -- a few of the young leaves add a nice kick to a salad mix.

This wild-as-can-be common mallow, Malva neglecta, can be eaten fresh or cooked. I think some people call this a weed, so unfair.

 A julienned young leaf of yellow dock, Rumex crispus, adds a lemony taste.

I use a few blades of these walking Egyptian onions-gone-wild, Allium proliferum, for green oniony-ness.

Baby lamb's quarters, Chenopodium album, are so good fresh or cooked -- I've never seen a garden lacking in this tasty plant.

Hollyhock leaves, Alcea rosea -- not really a wild plant unless it's gone rogue in your garden. Which it has in mine, I haven't planted it for years. Another member of the mallow family, I use the leaves in spring salads and the flower petals in summer salads.

There you have it! Rinsed and dried, this will go nicely with wild sockeye salmon tonight. Is there such a thing as wild chocolate for dessert?

An easy dressing is 1/3 cup olive oil, 2 T. red-wine or apple-cider vinegar, a clove of minced garlic, and salt & pepper. Sometimes, a little Dijon mustard or a little honey, it depends. Of course, fresh herbs can always be added, but it's surprising how flavorful wildness can be on its own.

Also posted at Food Renegade.