On our little camping expedition last weekend to possibly the best beach in Britain, (where we ate lamb tagine, drank warm wine and tried to fathom why it is that when you take dogs camping, they insist on sleeping on your head), we also made a new foraging discovery: wild garlic.
On a stroll to the pub one evening, we entered a shady wood and were overcome by an intense aroma. It was like being mugged by a band of unhygienic Frenchmen. The place was literally a sea of wild garlic. Lush green leaves, with little starbursts of white flowers just beginning to pop. After confirming our suspicions using the wonders of the iPhone (beware, as it transpires that wild garlic bears a passing resemblance to the poisonous Lily Of The Valley), we gathered armfuls of the stuff and retreated to our tents to cook up a storm.
A generous dollop of butter in the frying pan, sliced bread fried golden and roughly chopped wild garlic leaves and flowers sprinkled on top - just about the best garlic bread we've ever had. Back in Kent on the school run and we spied wild garlic on the roadside. An emergency stop and a bit of hectic harvesting later and we'd gathered enough for another garlic feast. It's sitting in a vase on the windowsill awaiting recipe inspiration - and very pretty it is too.