We all need a vacation, even from the best of daily life: Fifty-two Feasts has been doing just that. I have been cooking and eating merrily, but I have not been writing. So now it’s time to recount a few stories—back to the trenches with knife, rolling pin, and keyboard.

February Foraging

It has been an unusually warm winter. Even before January had ended, there were buds on our plum tree and gracefully unfurling crocuses pushing up amongst the brown leaves and twigs in the garden. Yet despite this impending spring, I was amazed while running one afternoon, to come across the sharp green of young nettles beside the path. “Stinging nettles? In February?” I wondered incredulously. I never knew they were such early risers! Kneeling down to inspect these specimens, I brushed a finger ever so slightly across a leaf and was immediately and unambiguously confirmed in my suspicions.

Delighted with this find, I ran on home only to stop for a pair of study gloves, a bag, and scissors. Then I rushed back to the woods (probably an odd sight, clad in running cloths, dish washing gloves, and clutching a scissors like some mad, murderous biologist) and proceeded to attach various nettle patches with gusto. After twenty minutes I had a stuffed shopping bag of the best young plants available and I had by no means exhausted the forest’s profusion of stingers.

At home once more I dealt immediately with the first half of the bag: One large pot, one chopped onion softened in some oil, followed by a couple peeled and chopped potatoes. I washed the nettles perfunctorily in the salad spinner, and then added them, stems and all the pot, covered it all with stock, and simmered until tender. A quick whiz with the hand-held blender, a slosh of milk and squeeze of lemon juice and I had a truly invigorating spring soup.

The next day was my mother’s birthday and she had demanded a dinner of handmade ravioli. She didn’t care what was in it; she just had a hankering for fresh pasta. Ever the dutiful daughter, I decided to grasp the nettle and posh it up into a pesto (an idea I’d attempted last year with great success). I then used this to fill some of my ravioli dough.

Later Mum, Dad, and I ate the ravioli together. As usual with fresh pasta, the simpler the better: we ate them drizzled with olive oil and freshly ground pepper. The pasta outside was feather light and the pesto inside a potent green that zapped your whole being awake.

Nettle Pesto
4 cups packed fresh nettle leaves (smaller stems OK)
½ cup olive oil
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan
½ cup whole pecans or walnuts
6 garlic cloves, unpeeled
1 garlic clove, finely minced
½ a lemon

Blanch the nettles briefly in boiling water (30 seconds r so) and leave to drain. Heat the unpeeled garlic cloves in a skillet until aromatic. Remove, allow to cool, and then peel. Heat the nuts in the same skillet until lightly toasted. Let them cool and then roughly chop. Throw the nettles, minced and whole garlic, and nuts into a food processor and pulse until combined. Add the oil and process well. Stir in the Parmesan and season to taste with lemon juice, salt, and pepper.