<p>There's a scene in the movie Sound of Music wherein Captain Von Trapp's children get late for dinner — having gone to visit Maria at the convent — and hide that fact by telling their father they went berry picking. "What kind of berries?" questions the Captain. "Blueberries, Sir," answers Friedrich. "Umm, too early for blueberries!" says the Captain teasingly, to which Friedrich innocently replies, "They were strawberries... It's been so cold lately, they turned blue." </p>.<p>That dialogue always brings on a smile. And the thought of blueberries makes the mouth water! What the Von Trapp children took refuge in was the skill of foraging. Going into the wild and picking edible greens has been a way of life and still remains quite the activity beyond urban frontiers, especially in areas inaccessible by transport.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">Sugar and spice</p>.<p>With supermarkets, <span class="italic">sabzi-mandis</span> and vendors bringing in a range of farm-grown vegetables almost to the doorstep, the city-bred have had it easy. There is, however, a growing tribe of the urban forager who's stepping out to gather what nature offers and looks forward to the thrill of being rewarded with a medley of flavours. These range from robust to delicate, peppery to sweet — whatever the flavour, one thing is certain — they are always bursting with freshness. </p>.<p>Over the years, my trips to the hills and wildlife reserves have made me familiar with foraging. My interest had been piqued early as my grandmother's belief in nature's bounties being a health booster and definite remedy for minor ailments, lead to all sorts of leaves, roots and berries being washed and sun-dried — to be cooked or applied on an injury while I was growing up.</p>.<p>During the recent lockdown, I realised we don't have to go too far for foraging. An unattended patch around my colony offered a wealth of wild produce. A neighbour hailing from the Kumaon hills turned out to be an able naturalist and we managed to gather a rich harvest of green amaranth, giloy, dandelion, purslane, castor, hemp seeds, mahua, amla and harad. The excitement index rose when after a few spells of rain, mushrooms sprouted in a grassy patch.</p>.<p>I was sceptical whether these were an edible variety, but a bit of asking around and online research showed it was <span class="italic">Termitomyces heimii</span>, a fungi native to India that usually pops up around termite hills. The experience was enriching; recipes were exchanged, some were created and though a few ingredients proved to be an acquired taste, the freshly prepared greens lived up to expectations. What capped it was the zero carbon footprint used in foraging.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">What's edible and what's not </p>.<p>Our green corridors, from the hills to the coasts, are treasure troves that hold within their folds microscopic details of the intricate food web. Identifying what's edible in this complex world is almost always hand-me-down practical knowledge. This is the expertise that's now being tapped into as foraging becomes a here-to-stay trend globally, almost reaching that capricious status of an urban artisanal fad.</p>.<p>As the 'forest to fork' trend picks up, restaurants around the world and in India have begun offering a selection from the 'wild' on their menu. According to Chennai-based food historian and consultant chef Shri Bala, who has researched Sangam Literature (300 BC to 300 AD), a treasured document of ancient Tamil history, and deciphered all its references to cuisine, "The world came to India for its spices. But, the only prized spice during the Sangam time, a period when cuisine of the Deccan was in its purest form, was foraged black pepper." She curates menus based on pepper and an assortment of forest ingredients. One of her most popular creation is the Druva Grass Smoked Mutton, with the smoked grass lending the mutton a distinct fiery flavour. Her spice box has pipli, neem flower, pea-berry, nightshade, brahmi, etc., that blend to produce outstanding fare.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">Breaking new ground</p>.<p>Trained at the gastronomic temple Noma, Denmark, and breaking new ground back home is Chef Prateek Sadhu, who has successfully co-created an "ingredient-driven restaurant" in Mumbai where tradition merges with innovation to whip up 10-course chef's tasting menus that are high on little-known foraged flavours and steer almost clear of typical curries.</p>.<p>Seasons dictate what will be served and ingredients arrive by the bagfuls from foraging trips and local farmers. With forest fare becoming the new superfood, plenty of self-help groups are making it convenient by sourcing and supplying quite a variety. "We get orders from around the country for Himalayan produce, including wild honey," says Kusum Bahuguna of AFIM, Uttarkashi. "The waiting period is long as our collection is seasonal and we pluck small quantities. You have to respect nature and give her the chance to rejuvenate," she rounds off. </p>
<p>There's a scene in the movie Sound of Music wherein Captain Von Trapp's children get late for dinner — having gone to visit Maria at the convent — and hide that fact by telling their father they went berry picking. "What kind of berries?" questions the Captain. "Blueberries, Sir," answers Friedrich. "Umm, too early for blueberries!" says the Captain teasingly, to which Friedrich innocently replies, "They were strawberries... It's been so cold lately, they turned blue." </p>.<p>That dialogue always brings on a smile. And the thought of blueberries makes the mouth water! What the Von Trapp children took refuge in was the skill of foraging. Going into the wild and picking edible greens has been a way of life and still remains quite the activity beyond urban frontiers, especially in areas inaccessible by transport.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">Sugar and spice</p>.<p>With supermarkets, <span class="italic">sabzi-mandis</span> and vendors bringing in a range of farm-grown vegetables almost to the doorstep, the city-bred have had it easy. There is, however, a growing tribe of the urban forager who's stepping out to gather what nature offers and looks forward to the thrill of being rewarded with a medley of flavours. These range from robust to delicate, peppery to sweet — whatever the flavour, one thing is certain — they are always bursting with freshness. </p>.<p>Over the years, my trips to the hills and wildlife reserves have made me familiar with foraging. My interest had been piqued early as my grandmother's belief in nature's bounties being a health booster and definite remedy for minor ailments, lead to all sorts of leaves, roots and berries being washed and sun-dried — to be cooked or applied on an injury while I was growing up.</p>.<p>During the recent lockdown, I realised we don't have to go too far for foraging. An unattended patch around my colony offered a wealth of wild produce. A neighbour hailing from the Kumaon hills turned out to be an able naturalist and we managed to gather a rich harvest of green amaranth, giloy, dandelion, purslane, castor, hemp seeds, mahua, amla and harad. The excitement index rose when after a few spells of rain, mushrooms sprouted in a grassy patch.</p>.<p>I was sceptical whether these were an edible variety, but a bit of asking around and online research showed it was <span class="italic">Termitomyces heimii</span>, a fungi native to India that usually pops up around termite hills. The experience was enriching; recipes were exchanged, some were created and though a few ingredients proved to be an acquired taste, the freshly prepared greens lived up to expectations. What capped it was the zero carbon footprint used in foraging.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">What's edible and what's not </p>.<p>Our green corridors, from the hills to the coasts, are treasure troves that hold within their folds microscopic details of the intricate food web. Identifying what's edible in this complex world is almost always hand-me-down practical knowledge. This is the expertise that's now being tapped into as foraging becomes a here-to-stay trend globally, almost reaching that capricious status of an urban artisanal fad.</p>.<p>As the 'forest to fork' trend picks up, restaurants around the world and in India have begun offering a selection from the 'wild' on their menu. According to Chennai-based food historian and consultant chef Shri Bala, who has researched Sangam Literature (300 BC to 300 AD), a treasured document of ancient Tamil history, and deciphered all its references to cuisine, "The world came to India for its spices. But, the only prized spice during the Sangam time, a period when cuisine of the Deccan was in its purest form, was foraged black pepper." She curates menus based on pepper and an assortment of forest ingredients. One of her most popular creation is the Druva Grass Smoked Mutton, with the smoked grass lending the mutton a distinct fiery flavour. Her spice box has pipli, neem flower, pea-berry, nightshade, brahmi, etc., that blend to produce outstanding fare.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">Breaking new ground</p>.<p>Trained at the gastronomic temple Noma, Denmark, and breaking new ground back home is Chef Prateek Sadhu, who has successfully co-created an "ingredient-driven restaurant" in Mumbai where tradition merges with innovation to whip up 10-course chef's tasting menus that are high on little-known foraged flavours and steer almost clear of typical curries.</p>.<p>Seasons dictate what will be served and ingredients arrive by the bagfuls from foraging trips and local farmers. With forest fare becoming the new superfood, plenty of self-help groups are making it convenient by sourcing and supplying quite a variety. "We get orders from around the country for Himalayan produce, including wild honey," says Kusum Bahuguna of AFIM, Uttarkashi. "The waiting period is long as our collection is seasonal and we pluck small quantities. You have to respect nature and give her the chance to rejuvenate," she rounds off. </p>