Classic Gardening Magazine

Wild Thing (I think I love you)
Wild Garlic was all the rage this time last year. Everything from Waitrose Good Food magazine to my mum’s WI newsletter was carrying recipes. This year, nothing. So let's put that right.

That’s the thing about mainstream cookery and gardening coverage – its all about fads. That’s why I write about Classic Gardening, and concentrate on plants and recipes that have stood the test of time. It's the Grumpy-Old-Man-in-the-Garden approach.

Wild garlic differs from the cultivated variety in a fundamental way: you don’t eat the bulbs – indeed the bulbs are tiny, slippery, pearl-sized things that would be no use to anyone.

Rather, you eat the luxuriant, pointed leaves that grow in clumps and, if my shady garden is anything to go by, transplant and spread easily.

It’s sometimes called Ramson, and the Latin tag is Allium ursinum. You’ll find a learned look at it here

Actually, I thought I’d spotted something on Wild garlic in the Sunday Times Magazine. The Life In A Day feature was of a forager called Fergus Drennan, who blogs here.

He was pictured in a wood, surrounded by a sea of the stuff. But, despite the fact he also had a basket full of it under one arm, there was no mention of it in the text.

To put that right, here is Fergus’s recipe for Nettle and Wild Garlic soup.

Foraging is one way of finding Wild Garlic. You sometimes come across it on woodland walks. Tread on it and a wonderful, delicate, fresh garlic smell is released.

But what if you want to grow your own?

I picked up a clump at a plant stall at a local fete, which suggests there is a tradition of growing it around me.

You can huy it from a heritage seed suppler called Thomas Etty. Read their rather neat introduction to growing it here. (You have to scroll down to the bottom of the pdf). I learned there that Wild Garlic is used in the Low Countries as an alternative to the more usual sorrel sauce on fish, and that “those of a strong constitution” and “labouring men” go commando and eat it on its own, fried in butter.

I love cooking it with salmon and new potatoes.

Pop the leaves in the hot oil first and they turn into elongated balloons for a second before popping and becoming crisp, green strands. The now garlic-infused oil imparts their flavour to the salmon.

Wild Garlic is very easy to grow.

I started with a small clump in a moist area beneath trees and, four years on, have a lush carpet of the stuff.

It’s invasive, but I just tug it up if it wanders where I don’t want it. The leaves begin to appear in mid-winter and it matures, and flowers, in April or May. By summer the leaves have died down completely.

By the way, if you are reading this in North America be warned – on your side of the pond what is known as wild garlic is often/usually (you may be able to tell me which) the common name for another variety, Allium vineale. That has narrow spiky leaves and diminutive but edible bulbs. But here’s a recipe for it with bacon and eggs that I reckon would work well with either variety.

And here are a couple of recipes for the big-leaf variety:
Wild garlic pesto
Wild Garlic gnocchi