Stinging Nettle

When ever I go to the farmers market, I'm always looking for nettles. I'm so appreciative when someone has taken the time to gather these, bundle them up and bring them to market. I mean really, the amount of work in gathering nettles with their treacherous stings should fetch far more than the 3 dollars that I happily hand over for each bunch.
Last time, my sister and i arrived just as everyone was packing up, but I was still lucky enough to grab the last bunch. We took the river path home (looking for the donkey), and found ourselves behind the old Abbotsford convent. We found no donkey, just a few sheep, who were all snug in their thick matted winter coats of wool, happily munching on ... stinging nettles.

I wouldn't dream of taking the sheep's nettles (I'm sure they are super good for them, and don't sting when you eat them right, just ask the sheep how to do it...) but the overlooked garden path had plenty, so I gathered a huge bag full, careful to get the youngish looking ones, which are sweet and tender. Now before my mother starts to panic that maybe these wild nettles had been sprayed with insecticides, I'm fairly sure that that whole area hasn't seen a spot of poison for many many months, judging by the health of said nettles. However, if you're going to gather weeds, make sure you're sure too.*

Now, to cook.

I use two pairs of kitchen tongs to make this easier, you could just use gloves if you have some that are really thick and waterproof. Use a sink or a large basin of cold water to wash the nettles. Leave the nettles on the stems to make them easier to handle. Grab the base of the nettle stem and swish it around in the water, to remove any grit or dirt. Pull off any damaged leaves and large flower clusters. Heat a large pot of water to boiling then reduce to a quiet simmer. Take a few stems at a time and plunge into the water. This instantly removes the sting. After blanching for a minute or so, remove the nettles and place in a colander to drain. Repeat till you've done them all, saving the water for cooking.

The blanched nettles still have their delicate hairlike spines still hold their form, which is quite beautiful. They are a gutsy green, very sweet and tender with an amazing nutritional profile, and are useful for many common complaints and lacks.

* It is best to gather nettles that look pretty clean and young. The older plants can be a bit tough and not so sweet. Straight after heavy rain, the leaves can get splattered with mud, which is harder to clean, you'll need to soak them for a little while first.

To Eat.

Nettle is delicate, and I prefer not to mix it up too much, keeping it whole while blanching, then roughly chopping into large (5cm) clumps. A simple pasta dish with slow cooked leeks, olive oil, fresh cheese (goats cheese or fresh, salted ricotta), garlic, a few olives and clumps of nettle.... delicious.

A mandarin called Daisy

Friday morning gift from the market; a daisy mandarin.

There is something kind of childish about mandarins, playful and small.

These new (old maybe?) daisy mandarins are bigger than your normal mandarin, and with a magenta vibrancy in their skins, and the flavour is bold and aromatic like a good blood orange. Delicious. No, they are not seedless, and no, they are not easy peel, which means they'll not be a hit with those shoppers who prefer bland sweetness and consumability above all else. But I like them.

I loved mandarins when I was a kid, leaving little piles of meticulously peeled mandarin skins in the kitchen, when I ate them after school, which would infuriate my Dad. I think of those little piles now, when I save mandarin skins to put into glasses of green tea, to warm them up in winter. If only I'd known then that dried citrus skins make the best fire starters, we could have saved them then too. Mandarins are also great for baking with, since their skins have those incredible pockets of aromatic oil that burst when you peel them. Chocolate brownies made with olive oil and mandarin zest are perfectly delicious, but you have to grate the zest before you peel.

My beautiful 1 year old niece loves mandarins, especially the slightly sour ones. I'm taking this to be a sign of sophisticated taste buds. I can't wait to start Auntie cooking lessons with her. Until then I'll rabbit on about food to myself and anyone else that cares to listen, and settle for nibbling on her ears.

Mandarin Chocolate Brownies.

2/3 cup plain flour
125g dark 70% chocolate
1/3 cup fruity olive oil
1/4 tsp sea salt
2 large eggs
3/4 cup raw castor sugar
1/3 a vanilla pod or 1 tsp essence
1 tablespoon mandarin zest

Preheat the oven to 175 C. With a tiny drop of olive oil lightly grease a square baking tin, and line with paper. (A brown paper bag works fine.) Scrape the black seeds from the vanilla pod, chop the chocolate and melt together over a low heat, then whisk in the oil. Add the mandarin zest, then cool. Beat the eggs and sugar until pale and thick. Add the essence now, if using. Fold in the chocolate mixture, fold in the flour and stir until combined. Pour into the tin and bake for 22 - 25 minutes. The top should be cracked, but a skewer inserted should come out wet.