Fragrant foraging: Wild garlic salt

It’s that time of year when the Scottish woodlands fill with the scent of fabulous wild garlic. And this year, I was determined to make use of nature’s (invasive) bounty rather than simply enjoying the fragrant air.

I set off from Castle Ryan, and within 5 minutes of walking, I was already crouching down at my first patches of allium ursinum and allium paradoxum*. Then I began to fill my harvest basket from the shimmering sea of vibrant, pointed green leaves, stretching out beneath the shady trees.

Foraging is nothing new to me, and I knew exactly what to look for (and where to find it). I paid careful attention to each new patch to ensure I was foraging the correct plant. Identifying wild garlic is relatively simple – I was looking for leaves that were long, elliptical, and growing from the base of the plant. But I was also undertaking the all-important “crush and sniff” test. I picked a leaf, rubbed it between my fingers, and was rewarded with that unmistakable, sharp garlic to the senses. This is a crucial test, as poisonous lookalikes like Lily of the Valley can grow in similar spots, although they lack the joyful garlic smell.

As always, my harvest came with restraint. It is easy to get carried away when faced with such abundance, but the ethical forager’s code is clear: take only what you need and never clear an entire patch. Instead, I carefully plucked a handful of leaves from several patches spread over a wide area. I was also careful not to disturb the bulbs.

I spent an hour in the quiet of the woods, selectively picking individual leaves and carefully placing them in my basket. By the time my basket was full, the scent of garlic had clung to my skin and clothes – a badge of honour for any woodland wanderer, similar to the huckleberry-stained fingers I proudly display when berry picking in the homeland.

Back at Castle Ryan, my garlic haul looked even more impressive. The leaves were speckled with soil and had stray dried leaves mixed in, so the first task was a thorough wash. I submerged them in cold water, watching the grit sink to the bottom, and then dried them carefully so that I could process them for wild garlic salt.

Whilst wild garlic pesto is the traditional go-to, I wanted something that would capture the essence of spring and keep it in my cupboard for months to come. The process is surprisingly simple: Chop, blend, mix, dry.

I used a ratio of about 100g of fresh leaves to 1000g of high-quality Celtic sea salt. First, I placed the dry leaves and about a third of the salt into a food processor. I pulsed it until the leaves were finely minced and the salt had turned a vivid, shocking neon green. Then, I tipped this green slurry into a bowl and stirred in the remaining salt by hand. This preserved some of the flaky texture while ensuring every grain was coated in garlic oil.

The next step was drying. I spread the mixture thinly on a baking tray lined with parchment. I left it at the lowest oven setting for three hours, stirring it at the mid-way point. After three hours, I stirred the salt again then placed the tray back into oven (now turned off) to finish drying in the residual heat.

The following morning, I removed the tray from the oven and crumbled any large clumps before pouring the emerald garlic salt into glass jars. I filled small jars to share now, and I will decant some of the larger jars into smaller vessels later.

The result was quite beautiful. The salt had turned a lovely, muted sage green, flecked with darker emerald bits of dried leaf. The flavour is more nuanced than traditional bulb garlic; it has a grassy, herbal sweetness followed by a mellow garlic finish. I am looking forward to using it on everything from poached eggs and roasted potatoes to the rims of savoury cocktails.

I’m pleased that I’ve finally gotten around to foraging this amazing plant. Its lifecycle means my annual foraging activities will start a month earlier than normal – and I even found some great wild strawberry patches as I foraged, so my foraging calendar will be busy!

Every time I sprinkle a pinch of that green salt over my dinner, I will smile at the simple magic of finding your own food in the wild. I am blessed!

* “True” wild garlic (allium ursinum) is a native plant, whilst few-flowered wild garlic (allium paradoxum) is an invasive one that crowds out other native plants in the UK.