Wild Nettles

Neither of us were raised in areas that had Stinging Nettles. So while we were aware of Poison Ivy, Poison Oak, and Poison Sumac, we learned about Stinging Nettles the hard way – first hand.

It happened last year, soon after we’d bought the farm. We were outdoors weeding the beautiful flower gardens we’d inherited. We spent the better part of a weekend pulling thistles, and dandelions, and other weeds.

And then we spent the better part of the next two weeks rubbing calendula oil over our prickly, stinging hands and forearms.

During the research that led us to discover that our affliction was caused by Stinging Nettles, we were incredulous to learn that the inflammatory offender was also, curiously, edible. And not just edible – very healthy.  Among many other nutrients, the Stinging Nettle has more iron than any other vegetable.

So this year, we decided that we would not weed the flower beds, we would harvest them.

Before cooking, however, comes the harvesting. We had a warm week weather-wise, so many of the Nettles in the garden had already begun to set flowers, which made them a little too mature for best flavor. We needed younger Nettles, and luckily found a tender patch tucked in the shade under the lilacs that grow on top of the Beekman Family Crypt. Obviously gloves are recommended for any contact with the irritating plant. We sometimes live on the edge, however, and opted to cut them directly into a clean dish towel.

Carefully harvesting the nettles

Once indoors, we rinsed the Nettles, again being careful not to touch them with our bare hands. A pair of salad tongs worked  nicely.

Rinsing the nettles

While we were rinsing, we heated up some bacon drippings with a couple of cloves of garlic.

Garlic and bacon oil

When sizzling, we used our tongs to transfer the Nettles into the pan, stirring briefly, then covering.

Now you might be wondering how something too dangerous to touch can actually be ingested.  Well, what makes the Nettles an irritant to the skin are tiny spine-like hairs that break off into the skin when touched. Each sliver of hair contains several toxins which are released into the skin. Hence: the burn.

However, the fine inflammatory hairs break down instantly in the steam and heat, rendering them completely harmless.

The Nettles only need to braise for a minute or two. They are very tender to begin with. Once they have wilted and taken on a bright green hue, they are ready for the salad.

Wilted nettles and garlic

We won’t get too precise with the rest of the ingredients. We’ve all made enough pasta salads to know what suits our tastes. Seeing that our Heirloom Garden has just been planted, we are still in the mode of using up provisions from last season before the new harvests begin.

Pasta salad with stinging nettles

PASTA SALAD WITH STINGING NETTLES

1 lb of rigatoni pasta,
Approx 1 lb of Stinging Nettles.
2-3 garlic cloves (remove cloves after braising if desired)
Approx 1 C of tender white flageolet beans (frozen from last year’s garden)
Approx 1/4 C of crumbled bacon
1 frozen “basil cube” – also from last year
1/4 pine nuts, toasted in oven
1 T bacon fat
1 T lemon juice
Olive oil to coat

Braise nettles in bacon fat and garlic. Remove nettles from oil and cool. Cook and drain pasta according to directions. Combine all ingredients and toss.

Serve at room temperature.

Freezonian Pea Shoots in The Beekman 1802 Heirloom Garden

To round out our “first harvest” meal, we served the pasta on a bed of young dandelion greens, and Freezonian Pea shoots – which had been freshly thinned from their overcrowded Heirloom Garden bed.

With all the nutritious iron in the Stinging Nettles, we’ve proven the famous proverb:

“That which doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.”