Something Foraged, Something Green

You've no doubt heard the customary requirement (at least in English weddings) that, to ensure a fortunate marriage, the bride should have handy:

Something old, something new

Something borrowed, something blue

And a silver sixpence in her shoe...

Carmen, of course, has diamonds in the soles of her shoes, so we think we've got that part covered. As for leverage and color, we're changing the terms. Something foraged, something green is our motto.

To meet that requirement, back in March I took a walk with my friend Langdon Cook, Seattle's forager in chief. He took me on a hike to some spots in city parks where stinging nettle grows. I can't tell you where, of course-- though the plant is fairly common in the northwest. We trundled up a hill with stuff sacks and back packs, and, with gloved hands, clipped the tops off several acres of the prolific plant.

I first tried stinging nettle pesto at the table of Lang Cook and Martha Silano. Carmen had tried it, and fell in love with it, at the behest of one of her Nature Vision colleagues. When you hear that you're about to eat stinging nettle, you might be a bit skeptical, as if you were just asked to eat fire and swallow swords at the same time. But it's delicious, and, if prepared correctly, perfectly safe. As a pesto, it has a bright, earthy taste that goes well with many dishes. At our wedding, we'll be serving our hand foraged, homemade stinging nettle pesto with the fingerling potatoes, thus guaranteeing our happiness for a long time to come.