The first shoots of wild garlic were lovely to behold when I walked past my ‘secret’ patch. Those few warm sunny days have brought enough growth for me to start picking.
Once the plants have flowered, the leaves are much coarser, but have even more flavour. And the flowers make an exquisite garnish, on chilled soups, for example.
Before I use the leaves, I rinse them very thoroughly in copious amounts of hot water. Blanching the leaves, I have found, takes away too much of the scent and flavour, but certainly sterilises the leaves more than hot water can.
The leaves are best dried spread out on a clean tea towel. If you are using them right away, in an omelette, sauce, soup or a soufflé, they do no need to be perfectly dry.
But if you plan to make wild garlic butter or pesto to freeze, then it is best to have the leaves as dry as possible. The butter and pesto freeze well in ice cube trays.
Eggs, fish, potatoes and pasta provide the perfect background to the flavour of wild garlic, as they do for chives and other allium family members.
A fish fillet with a pat of flavoursome green butter is a gastronomic delight; very simple, very plain, just perfect. Regular readers will know that I seldom show photos of finished dishes.
Once I was with a group of chefs in a three-star Michelin restaurant in Paris. Two shared the roast chicken; the breast came on large plates, as were fashionable then, served with a pat of salted Brittany butter. Unadorned. Just the butter.
In fact, I find I use fewer and fewer ingredients in all my cooking. Apart from seasoning, why would I use six or eight herbs and spices, when one single flavour would perfectly enhance the main ingredient?
If I were fortunate enough to come across morel mushrooms, now coming into season, the only ingredient I would let near them, once I had cooked them, would be a little cream.
New season’s asparagus is early this year. With it, I serve melted butter or if, cold, good mayonnaise. Asparagus is a perfect example of terrroir. The soil of Norfolk is quite different from that of Kent, and my favourite, Herefordshire, is different again.
If I have left-over asparagus, I put it in egg salad sandwiches on brown bread; quite my favourite lunch at the moment.
To match these seasonal flavours, locally caught wild bream and brown trout are to be found on the fishmongers slab for a few weeks, as well as brill and John Dory.
These are ideal partners for wild garlic; in a simple white sauce, as butter or as pesto. For the latter I like to match the leaves with a well-flavoured traditional farmhouse cheese instead of Parmesan; Lancashire or Red Leicester are my favourites. And instead of extra virgin olive oil, I prefer to use English cold-pressed rapeseed oil.
The measurements below will depend on your harvest, but keep to the same general proportions.
300 g wild garlic leaves
100 g traditional farmhouse cheese, such as Lancashire, Red Leicester or Caerphilly
100 g walnuts or blanched almonds
150 ml cold-pressed English rape seed oil
Method:
Wash the leaves in plenty of hot water, or blanch them in boiling water. Dry the leaves for a few hours by spreading on a clean tea towel. Crumble the cheese and put it in the food processor with the leaves and nuts, and process until roughly chopped. With the motor running, gradually add the oil until you have a bright green sauce.
Some like it left chunky, others smooth.
Scrape it into small containers or spoon into ice cube trays and when frozen, transfer to a freezer bag.
Wild garlic butter
This is even easier than the pesto. Use equal proportions of leaves and softened butter, salted or unsalted as you prefer.
Finely chop the leaves by hand or with a stick blender or food processor. Stir into the softened butter, Season with a little salt, if needed, and pepper. A fine grating of lemon zest, and a dash of juice I find work well.
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