Someone on the BBC Food Chat board asked about our memories of food foraging.
My response came out more poetic than I’d intended, as I wrote it off the top of my head, without pause:
- Cockles gathered on the beach, shuffling through the sand with our bare toes, occasionally getting pinched by a disgruntled crab…
- Mussels pulled off decaying wooden break-waters…
- Blackberries foraged in country lanes and out in the fields…
- Walnuts collected from the ground and dried in the French autumn sun…
- Chestnuts gathered in a field full of trees — and possessive cows who laid cowpat landmines to impede our passage…
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