So far in this series I’ve done a couple of articles mentioning wild garlic - it really is a good year for out here on Exmoor and the stuff is everywhere. So here’s an entirely new piece on the subject - and I’ve made it one of the Lockdown Diaries because I see that over 1000 people looked at the last one and I’ve had a lot of positive remarks.

Just one guy tweeted a mild rebuke, saying that my humble writings about wild food could inspire hordes of people to go out picking stuff which would soon have a detrimental hit on Mother Nature. He has a point, except I would echo the present advice NOT to go out anywhere but in your own near vicinity.

I’d also add that as long as no one did it commercially (something I would very much abhor) I really can’t see a bit of seasonal picking can do much harm. A thousand people could pick a handful of wild garlic in our valley at the moment and you wouldn’t notice any difference. There are acres of it - and you really do only need a handful, it’s so powerful.

Nature is generous when it comes to the signs she gives us which herald the beginning of the end of winter and the accompanying emergence of spring. First snowdrops, then primroses begin to illuminate the West Country hedgerows along with a plethora of other flowers, but it is wild garlic that waves a joyous flag at the weary cook who would otherwise be suffering what has become known as the “hungry gap”.

And now is the time when brassica vegetables which have overwintered, such as brussel sprouts cauliflowers and certain cabbages, start to bolt as the days get warmer - yet most gardeners will still have a wait to endure before they can harvest the first broad beans or other early crops.

Wild garlic leaves are capable of adding a pungent, fresh, garlicky spin to soups and sauces. Not many people actually use wild garlic as a plain vegetable, although having written those words I am preparing myself for the onslaught of emails from those that do. Two decades ago I wouldn’t have heard a single whisper, because back then few folk picked or ate ramsons. Now that seasonal foraging has become popular, a great many people go hunting for wild garlic. I know that because a few years ago I tweeted the fact I was writing on the subject and received quite a few recipes in return…

One was from the Hon. Mrs Caroline Clifford, ex Master of the Minehead Harriers, who said she lived at Porlock with her husband Rollo, younger brother of Lord Clifford. She wrote: “There are two types of wild garlic leaves which I pick locally. First, out before Christmas (we live by the sea at Porlock Weir), is Allium triquetrum commonly known as the three cornered leek and looks like a white bluebell. Next out from March is Allium ursinum or ramsons. 

“It has a broad leaf and is very strong. Use sparingly!” warns Mrs Clifford. “Our family favourites for these foraged leaves are, wild garlic pesto and the soup.”

You can see Caroline’s wild garlic soup recipe below, but I can’t pick ransoms nowadays without recalling a cookery class at attended last year, given by the brilliant chef Mark Hix in his West Dorset home.

Mark said pickers had gleaned his supply from the soft warm underbelly of southern Cornwall at a time when my local ramsons on Exmoor weren’t peeping even a tiny spear above the ground. 

However, my local supply has been appearing in the last week - Exmoor might be two or three weeks behind the sheltered valleys of Cornwall in terms of nature’s cycle, but when the temperatures do warm up the deep vales of the Brendon Hills are capable of producing vast carpets of the green aromatic leaves.

I’ve used two of the plant’s common names so far, by the way - it’s also known as buckrams, broad-leaved garlic, wood garlic, bear leek or bear's garlic.

I’ve also hinted at its usefulness in the kitchen, but it is worth repeating the health warning: every year there are cases in which people have been poisoned after eating the similar looking leaves belonging to Lilly of the Valley. Well… similar when young. As they mature over a few days, you should easily be able to see the difference. The wild garlic leaves are slightly convex and smooth edged with a single main vein, whereas the Lilly of the Valley has irregular edges and numerous deep veins.

Anyway, that’s the official health warning. I would advise anyone who has even the slightest scintilla of doubt not to go out harvesting ramsons unless escorted by an expert. The garlicky pong should be enough to give you a green light - but get it wrong and you could become very green indeed before turning a shade of blue.

The act of picking wild garlic reminds me of another chapter from my culinary past. I have spent time walking in the mountains of Greece where folk from cities and towns flock to the countryside in springtime in order to pick this season’s fresh new wild herbs which they call “horta”. 

I recall being on a Cretan mountainside and meeting a bus driver who was picking “horta” alongside a wealthy businessman. They told me that Cretans go mad for such seasonal delights and enjoy nothing better than a trip up into the hills to help themselves, whether by posh limousine or by beaten up old motorbike. The rich man, who’d arrived in a Mercedes, didn’t really need those mountain greens to feed his family, but he was passionate about the flavour. The bus driver’s hunt for the wild herbs was undoubtedly honed by the thought of cost-saving, but he too told me it was more about the delicious health giving qualities of horta than cost. 

Natural landscapes all over the world are filled with such delights, and people in many societies seem hard-wired to appreciate that fact. In post industrial Britain we seem to be only just getting around to reconnecting to nature’s bounty.

Which, unlike the chap who tweeted a rebuke earlier this week I think is a good turn of the tide. Because when we humans value something, we tend to look after it better - and our green environments could certainly do with a bit more tender loving care. 

Recipes 

The Hon Mrs Clifford’s wild garlic soup 

Pick a single handful of wild garlic leaves washed and picked over, save some individual white flowers to garnish

1 large onion

2 large potatoes (approx 400g)

150g butter

Approx 3/4 litre liquid. Tasty home made stock is best, but milk, or a mixture of milk and vegetable water is also delicious 

Seasoning

Cream (optional)

Method

Peel and quarter the potatoes, boil in well salted water until cooked.

Meanwhile, finely chop the onion. Melt 100g of butter in a medium sized pan, add onion and cook over low heat until transparent.

Drain the potatoes and roughly break them up, saving some of the liquid, if using as stock. 

Very finely shred the garlic leaves and add 2 tbsp to the onions in the pan, along with the rest of the butter and the potatoes. Stir over heat for a minute to wilt the leaves then purée adding half your preferred liquid(s). Slowly add more of the leaves, blitzing and tasting as you go. 

Season with plenty of salt, some pepper or a small pinch of cayenne to taste

You should now have a glorious green soup, which I like to finish with a swirl of cream and sprinkle of the saved white flowers.

At his cookery master class Mark Hix showed me how to make a wild garlic flavoured mayonnaise which could accompany all manner of dishes - in that case it was a crisp but lightly battered cuttlefish…

For the mayonnaise

2 egg yolks (at room temperature) 2tsp white wine vinegar
1tsp English mustard
2tsp Dijon mustard

1 tsp salt
Pinch of freshly ground white pepper
100ml olive oil mixed with 200ml vegetable oil Juice of half a lemon (optional)
A handful of ramson leaves

Put the egg yolks, white wine vinegar, mustards and salt and pepper into a stainless steel or glass bowl and beat together with a whisk. Do not use an aluminium bowl, as it will make the mayonnaise go grey. Very slowly pour the oils into the bowl, whisking continuously. If the mayonnaise is starting to become too thick, add a few drops of water and continue whisking in the oil. When the oil is mixed thoroughly with the egg mixture, taste, re-season if necessary and add a little lemon juice. Blend the ramson leaves and fold in to the mayonnaise.

Buttermilk-fried Lyme Bay cuttlefish Serves 4 

400g cleaned cuttlefish 

100g buttermilk 

100g gluten free self-raising flour 

1 tsp ground paprika 

1 tsp of ground cumin 

A pinch of onion salt 

Preheat about 8cm of oil to 180C in a large thick- bottomed saucepan or electric deep-fat fryer. Cut the cuttlefish into 3-4 cm pieces, including the tenticles. Place the buttermilk in a bowl, add a third of the paprika and cumin and mix together. Place the flour in a bowl, add the remaining cumin, paprika and onion salt and mix.

One by one, put the cuttlefish pieces in the flour, then into the buttermilk and finally into the flour again. Do not knock off excess flour or buttermilk as you need a slightly rough, bubbled almost popcorn-like finish when deep-fried. Place the pieces of cuttlefish a couple at a time in the fryer and cook for 2-3 minutes. Remove from the fryer with a slotted spoon and place on kitchen paper to drain.