Nettle soup

At the weekends, when we aren't doing anything terribly social, we like to make a pot of soup. This normally involves some of our cheaper vegetables, like carrots and leeks, simmered with a tin of tomatoes, various spices, and some broken spaghetti. Today, however, I decided to be a bit more adventurous; since we came back from holiday, a lot of young nettles have grown in in the garden. Armed with rubber gloves, I harvested the tender nettle tops, and added them to the soup. Apparently, they are very rich in iron. They taste a little like spinach.

I was inspired to do this by Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall, a wonderful English character who writes on harvesting food from the wild. I was given his book as a Christmas present. It's the sort of book from which you take whatever is relevant; I found the section on using plants as vegetables invaluable. The section on gathering fungi is good too. I can already identify a few fungi, like parasol mushrooms; shaggy ink caps; wood blewitts; puffballs (never seen one); and ceps (always maggoty) but only those which are very easily spotted; there are probably loads of edible fungi that are brown or white, without any obvious distinguishing features, which I won't harvest because I'm scared I'll get it wrong and die a horrible death.

The sections on eating squirrels, rooks, and various types of road kill, I think I'll ignore. I appreciate that killing a squirrel is probably more humane than buying factory farmed chicken in a supermarket, but sorry, Hugh, it's just not me. I prefer my meat in packets.

I also appreciate that some of our freshwater fish deserve more attention than they attract, but I am not going to spend any precious hours of my life sitting by a riverbank, drowning a maggot, and looking like an extra from Last Of The Summer Wine.

Well, I'm proud of my nettle soup. At least I don't have to lower myself to this! Can you really not get a Breville Pie Magic any longer? Not that I'd really want one, oh no...