Wild Harvest Life - Winter Family in PNW

By Wild Harvest Life PNW · A personal harvest and kitchen story from Washington A friend called and said, “I think I have shaggy manes in my yard!” That was enough to make me want to go and see them. When I arrived, there they were—beautiful white mushrooms growing in little rows through the grass, here and there across the yard. That unexpected phone call eventually gave us two delicious meals. I cleaned and blanched the shaggy mane mushrooms, divided them into two portions, and froze them. Later, one portion became a simple butter and Parmesan sauté. The other went into Korean doenjang jjigae, or soybean paste stew. The surprise was finding them in a front yard. The reward was enjoying the same harvest in two very different ways. Shaggy manes growing in my friend’s yard—the beginning of two memorable meals. Before you forage: This is my personal experience, not a complete identification guide. Have a qualified local mushroom expert confirm any wild mushroom before eating it. A white...

There are some wild plants that I notice only after they flower. Western Canada goldenrod is different. The same Western Canada goldenrod changes dramatically from green buds to yellow flowers and finally to fall seed heads. By the time its brilliant yellow flowers appear in late summer, I have already been watching the same plants for months. In spring, they are simply green shoots growing among ferns, shrubs, and other plants around me here in Washington State. Without the yellow flowers, they are surprisingly easy to overlook. But I know this patch. And one of the things I enjoy most about the young spring growth is its aroma. When the shoots are still tender and I am completely certain of the plant I am harvesting, I sometimes cook the young growth Korean-style as namul . The fragrance is what makes it memorable for me. Then the season moves forward. The stems become taller. Tiny green flower buds appear. And suddenly, the plant that blended into all the surrounding gree...

Wild bracken fern harvested in Washington became gosari namul and a comforting bowl of Korean bibimbap. I have loved gosari for as long as I can remember—probably since I was old enough to chew it. Gosari is the Korean name commonly used for prepared young bracken fern. Its flavor is mild, but its pleasantly firm and chewy texture is unlike most other vegetables. Sometimes it almost feels as if I am chewing a very tender piece of meat. That texture is exactly why I have always loved it. In Korea, gosari appears in many familiar dishes. It is one of the classic vegetables used in bibimbap, and it is an essential ingredient in yukgaejang, a spicy Korean beef soup. A similar soup made with chicken is called dakgaejang. I also enjoy adding gosari to japchae and other dishes at home, even when it is not part of the most standard recipe. If I have prepared gosari available, I can usually find a place for it. Today, I am sharing how I turn the wild bracken fern I harvested in Washington into ...

One of my favorite parts of living close to nature is returning to the same plant through the seasons. In early August, I walked toward a large elderberry tree covered with creamy-white flowers. Some clusters were fully open, while a few tiny green berries had already begun to form. By the next visit, the flowers had faded and the branches were heavy with green fruit. In early September, the berries finally began changing to deep blue-purple. This is blue elderberry ( Sambucus cerulea ), a native plant found in Washington and across much of western North America. In early August, this blue elderberry was covered with broad clusters of tiny creamy-white flowers. Watching Flowers Become Fruit Blue elderberry offers a beautiful seasonal story. Broad clusters of small flowers attract the eye first. After pollination, tiny green berries appear where the flowers once were. The fruit slowly moves through shades of green and reddish purple before becoming dark blue-purple with a pale, powdery ...

  I first noticed Oceanspray after its white flowers had faded. The dry, feathery clusters looked like a shrub covered in wild whiskers. Later, when I found the same plant draped in snowy white blooms, I honestly thought I was looking at a different species. Hundreds of tiny creamy white flowers create the cascading,  ocean-foam appearance that gives Oceanspray its name. That mistake taught me something important: learning a wild plant means watching it through more than one moment. A flower is not the whole story. Its leaves, stems, fading blooms, seeds, habitat, and response to changing seasons all belong to the same living identity. This is Oceanspray ( Holodiscus discolor ) , a native shrub of Washington State and much of western North America. Its clouds of creamy white flowers can resemble sea foam suspended among the trees. Simply looking at these beautiful flowers brings me a sense of peace. Why Washington Rain Means More to Me In my experience, it is difficult to find...