nettles

I feel like I’ve been away for ages; so much has happened in the past week. I went to Salt Spring Island and spent a relaxing day with my mum, and fell asleep listening to tree frogs singing to each other in the arbutus forest, a wash of pinprick stars in the skylight above me.

Yesterday, we went up to the farm and Jer dug us some rhubarb while I picked nettle in a clearing. I picked slowly and selectively, soaking up the peaceful energy of the forest, and still got two full bags. The tender tops, picked before the leaves droop past three o’clock, are lovely fried or sautéed, in soups or spanekopita, or dried for tea. My favorite tea blend consists of generous pinches of nettle, peppermint and raspberry.

Easter came at the bakery in a frenzy of hot cross buns. There was also chocolate bread, and kugelhopf, and lulls in the lineups.

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