Just because it’s foraged, doesn’t mean it’s good
By Daniel Butler, author and forager
The other day I saw a podcast with someone delightedly telling viewers that catkins are not only edible, but delicious. I was curious and tried nibbling on a few gathered from the hazel growing outside the kitchen window – I even offered some to my dinner guests. I can’t say that any of us was impressed, but it led to a train of thought.
Hazel catkins come out early in the year and can be prolific
(Photo: Author’s own)
Our fields and hedgerows abound with many edible plants and fungi, but if we’re honest, many – if not most – are not particularly great to eat. There are good reasons why many common wild foods aren't cultivated – or if they are, the domesticated version is just much better than its wild ancestor (carrots and parsnips would be good examples).
Yet there some people will eat anything just because it's wild and free. This tends to come from ‘newbie’ foragers who’ve just entered the world of wild harvesting. They frequently get very excited at finding an 'technically-edible' mushroom. Then, on social media, they declare these to be ‘a choice find’ and ‘delicious’. More often than not I suspect the motivation is more to show off to non-foragers their expertise rather than genuine belief that this leaf or that mushroom really is fantastic.
Brown birch boletes might superficially resemble porcini, but not in taste
(Photo: Author’s own)
Let’s face it, gastronomy revolves around pecking orders and some ingredients are considerably better than others. Take the brown birch bolete (Leccinium scabrum): to the novice this can look very similar to a porcino (Boletus edulis), but things are very different on the plate. To my mind, if the porcino (cepe) is an artisan sourdough bread made with organic whole grains, then the brown birch is mass-produced plastic-wrapped sliced white ‘pap’. Yes, of course they’re both edible and you could say they have their place. A bacon sandwich in a greasy spoon just has to come in flabby white sliced bread, but it does foraging no favours to describe something as ‘delicious’ simply because it is wild really just demonstrates ignorance.
The real McCoy (Boletus edulis) is in a different league to a brown birch bolete
(Photo: Author’s own)
There really are various edibility ‘leagues’ which are akin to sporting or academic excellence. Some things are just better than others: Liverpool FC will always beat Hull; Harvard is universally ranked higher than Keele. In most cases the people who declare jelly ears; pestle puffballs or elf caps are ‘choice’ basically are trying to show off. They are trying to tell total non-cognoscenti that they know what these are. None of them is going to win a Michelin star.
Of course, taste is an individual thing and everyone is entitled to their own preferences. (particularly when it comes to dislikes). One good example would be truffles which are a ‘marmite’ taste. I love a big dash of truffle oil in soups or mashed potato - and chips drizzled with the stuff are to die for in my book. But I have friends who rush for the toilet at the first mouthful.
Gastronomic delight is in the mouth of the taster!