Foraging...

for Knots in the String.

Foraging…

There seems to a bit of a trend these days to call finding food ‘foraging’ – a trendy way to describe the provision of veg and fruit for the table. I wondered idly if the weekly trip (or daily) is also foraging. Makes it sound more attractive I suppose.

I decided to look the word up.

It seems the noun roughly dates from the late 13th century Anglo-Latin when it was called foragium and meant food for horses and cattle - ie fodder. In old French – ie 12th century (my time) it was called forrage and again it meant fodder but also pillaging and looting. A whole new view of the weekly shop!

The verb ‘forage’ dates from the 15th century and meant to ‘plunder and pillage or to hunt about for…’ There it is again - incipient violence. Come to think of it I suppose we’ve seen the violence - fighting for loo rolls early on in Covid.

If one is looking for synonyms – try scrounge, rummage, scour, plunder, pilfer, ransack, ravage and so forth. I wonder if Les Trendies realised the negative connotations when they decided to use the word in these current times.

The thing is, I love the word. Say it slowly – fooooraaage. It rolls – as if one is taking one’s time to examine green leaves or fruit. If one takes it at its simplest meaning – ‘to hunt about for’, it’s a perfect way to describe sourcing food, especially veg and fruit.

When my Mum used to search for mushrooms on the side of roads, I tell myself she was foraging. If she found windfalls along the roads as well, I tell myself that in her day, she wasn’t only foraging, she was scrumping!

When we find blackberry canes on our paddock fence lines, we forage for ripe berries. Likewise with the hundred year old mulberry in the house paddock. In our orchard we have apples, pears, a nectarine, an apricot, a quince, three almond trees and soon, our own walnut tree because up till now, I’ve ‘foraged’ from my brother’s. So apron-loads of pickings come into the house (I always forget to take a bowl or basket) and are peeled, chopped, poached, shelled and pickled.

The berry house is pillaged for all manner of berries from the bright red of currants and raspberries to the blackish-purple of ripe boysenberries and silvanberries.

If I go to the herb garden – my favourite place – I’m picking parsley, chives, thyme, rosemary, dill, basil, tarragon and many others and then if I walk around the garden, I’m foraging for edible flowers like nasturtiums, violas, and borage.

When I go to our veggie garden and pull carrots, dig potatoes, beans, pick zucchinis, peas, eggplants and more, am I foraging for veg? They mightn’t be on the sides of roads and lanes, but they are grown as fodder for humans, which harks back to that original meaning – foragium. But Foragium for humans, not livestock. And all done to the sound of the breeze through the willow pendules and chiming bird song on the air. What could be better?

But what does one do with it all?

Jams, coulis, pear and raspberry slices, blackberry and apple pies, ratatouille, salade niçoise, tomato sauces, passata, herb pestos, pickled walnuts, shelled almonds, vegetable tarts, loaves and pies, quince paste, apple chutney, pear chutney. It’s what makes ordinary food spectacular and worth the bending, digging, stretching, picking - better than the gym and zoomba. Worth the pricking of hands with thorns. And we’re like busy squirrels, hoarding food for those dreary days of winter when berries and summer veg are but a memory.

Personally, it’s what I think foraging is about – making an effort to collect food, rendering satisfaction on a tasty job well done. For myself, I would like to learn about our native foods from our First Nation people. Every time I pass a wild plant with berries or interesting leaves, when I see seaweed and nuts, I wonder if I could eat them and really give meaning to the word, ‘forage’.

Bookshelves:

My daughter gave me a copy of Graziher. It’s a magazine for the thinking rural/regional woman and the stories are all Australian. A more in-depth look at regional living. I like it and hope she will pass over her old copies when she’s finished with them. I’ll swap her for my Country Style. The same thing – stories from regional/rural Australia, but slightly lighter and with rather spectacular photos.

On Kindle, I’m reading David Michie’s Awaken the Kitten Within. Another book in The Dalai Lama’s Cat series. Rinpoche, a disabled but beautiful Tibetan cat belongs to the Dalai Lama and suffers periodic bouts of cat-ego. The feline is Michie’s way of delivering the Buddhist message. They‘re charming books and being interested in Buddhism (although not cats), I find this a very pleasant way to learn and I actually get a real laugh from Rinpoche’s thinking processes.

Michie is a Buddhist and also a psychologist who teaches meditation and mindfulness. He has an impressive backlist – mostly non-fiction, but the fiction titles are creeping up. All worth a read.

In audio, I’m halfway through Cornwell’s Stonehenge. How I love BC’s writing! This is another coup from him. I didn’t imagine I would be remotely interested in the dark days of the creation of Stonehenge but he manages to pinion my interest.

Boredom Busters:

Swimming – grabbing the last of the indian-summer days. Me and the sea – gliding along the perfectly white sand that is the ocean floor, in the clearest water and hoping to the heavens I don’t run into a stingray. I heard of a man the other week near Port Arthur who was rushed to hospital with a barb through his lower leg!

Stitching – I want to stitch up a bag of hearts for the Mothers and Babies Unit and the Mental Health Unit of a private hospital in my city. I hope to do quite a few before Easter. This is part of the https://www.1000hearts.com.au/ charity initiative.

Walking – anywhere with Dog. The roads, the coastline, through the surf, around the beach, along the river. Solitary apart from the dog, and with me thinking about Life, the Universe and Everything. But mainly shifting logs in the dam of the latest chapter in my latest novel. Justin Hill, a favourite author, always walks away for a while when he’s at a roadblock, and his mind unconsciously sorts the issue. It’s a totally viable technique.

I’m also waiting for the next lot of narration of Tobias to arrive for me to approve, from English actor, Greg Patmore. This is exciting beyond my wildest dreams but more on that later.

Ballet – dancing adagios made of pas de basques makes me realise how far we are all coming on in our seniors class. I hope my bones and ligaments last the distance because I LOVE it 11/10, I can tell you! But I do need to buy a sports bra!!!

And that’s it from me for this week.

It’s been days filled with sunshine, emotion, soothing of spirits and the sea. I’d like to think yours has been gentle and kind to you at this time. There has to be something good happening in our world just now, doesn’t there? Because the images from wars and floods are beyond distressing.

Thanks for reading this far and click on ‘like’ if you feel it’s worth it. If you want to share anywhere, that’s okay too. Feel free. Take care and talk again next week.

Toodles.