Harbor Pollock Centerpiece of Foraged Meals in Winter

Wild Plants And Wooly Bears

       

Cold, windy and snowy. That’s the way things look from now on. And yet, foraging continues, in a way. While foraging for wild plants is pretty much out, I have contented myself with catching and eating harbor pollock and when the opportunity presents itself, brook trout and brown trout.

While trout fishing opportunities are limited now, given that only a few streams are open this time of year, pollock fishing is permitted anytime, anywhere. There is one rule, though, and that’s a daily bag limit of 12 fish. And truthfully, I wouldn’t want to clean more than 12 pollock.

These plentiful fish are available around piers, floats and breakwaters for most of the fall and into winter. Really, the only thing that stops me from catching them in midwinter is the extreme cold.

It aggravates me to have to buy fish when there are so many underutilized species out there that few people bother with. Which explains my fascination for pollock and other less-than-glamorous species.

I like to skin and fillet my pollock. These fish have been running about 12 inches and weighing close to one pound, so each fish gives two, hefty fillets.

Sometimes I’ll use my fresh pollock fillets in conjunction with preserved, wild edible plants to make a wholly-foraged meal. Home-canned goosetongue and frozen dandelions go well with ocean fish. Other times I’ll mix and match homegrown vegetables such as carrots and squash to make not a foraged meal, but a combination of foraged and homegrown.

So even during the gray, cold days of early winter, we can still enjoy our foraged foods. It just takes a bit more work. But it’s worth it. 

Tom Digs Dandelions Ahead of Season's First Nor'easter

It’s November 1, opening day of firearms season on deer and I’m sitting inside by the woodstove. But a stiff north wind blows, carrying a cold rain, and my tolerance for such adverse conditions declines with each passing year.

Besides that, I have plenty food even without a deer. With the summer bounty of homegrown and foraged foods, my pantry bulges at the seams. Even so, it was hard to resist the young dandelions growing in my garden beds and so I went out this morning and dug a mess.

We’ve had several hard frosts here in Waldo and dandelions lose their bitterness after undergoing several good freezes. So if readers have an interest in some late-season foraging, now is the time to go out and do it. Snow is predicted for this weekend and even after it melts, which it must, more snow will certainly follow in the not-too-distant future.

In addition to dandelions, I still have kale, good-king-Henry and even eggplant growing in my unheated greenhouse. The eggplant can’t last much longer, but as long as it continues to grow, I’ll continue to water and nurture it.

Sitting here writing and watching the smoke from my chimney sweeping down toward the ground as a result of the low-pressure system moving in, I think back to years past and how the season’s first Nor'easter always seems a bittersweet event. Bitter, because it signals an unofficial start to winter. Sweet, because it feels so cozy and comfortable to sit in a warm house and watch the fir trees sweep around, buffeted by the wind.

There’s nothing we can do about bad weather, so we may as well sit back and enjoy it to whatever extent we can. It’s all part of nature, after all.