May – Sea Kale
Sea Kale – Crambe maritima
Even if it wasn’t edible sea kale would still be by far and away my favourite plant. Its alien-looking purple shoots, sculpturesque leaves and clouds of nodding flowers are works of high art to intoxicate the senses and marvel the mind. As luck would have it, it also happens to be absolutely delicious, providing some sort of food for most of the year. I place it on a par with ceps, scallops and truffles in the parthenon of wild food gods.
That said, I still swithered whether to write about it here. It was once a common sight above the high tide mark on many of britain’s shingle beaches, but is now restricted to sporadic colonies. This is due to a Victorian penchant for digging them up and transplanting them to ornamental gardens. The construction of sea defences has also been the death-knell of many a colony, but more often than not nowadays, the tramping of young shoots by careless walkers is their biggest threat.
We are fortunate to have at least a couple of large and well established colonies that I know of around the Galloway coast, but I have no wish to direct large numbers of eager gastronomes to them. Please treat this article as a homily to a beautiful plant, rather than instructions on how to harvest it. If you should be lucky enough to come across a large colony (they aren’t hard to spot), please enjoy its beauty and take a few tasters if you are that way inclined, then leave it for others to marvel at. I know of a couple of sites with only one or two plants. Whether these are the beginnings of new colonies or the last vestiges of a dying one, they should be left. I restrict myself to a couple of cherished meals per year from a large colony, but am ready to forgo this pleasure if I see signs of other people harvesting.
With all that said, I would like to take you through a photo-tour of a year in the life of this remarkable plant. (Click on pictures to enlarge).
Sea kale is a native perennial, over wintering in a deep and extensive root system. All that is evident in winter is the top of the root and some large, dead leaves. The roots are edible, but apart from needing a JCB to get them up, it would be a crime (legally and metaphorically) to dig them up. I have read that hey don’t have much culinary merit anyway.
This rather grim picture was my first sight of sea kale, giving few clues of the beauty to come…
During February the first signs of life start to appear, with deep purple shoots emerging from the woody root-tops.
By mid March, striking deep purple coral-like shoots will develop. At this stage the leaves are succulent, crisp and tender, with a sharp cabbagy pepperiness and make an amazing centrepiece to any salad. If you are tempted to try a couple at this stage, resist and completely bury the shoots in shingle. If you return in a few weeks time, the shoots will have forced their way up and yield lovely long stems that can be cooked like asparagus.
By mid April the earlier weirdness will be starting to resemble something rather more cabbagy, with the leaves thickening and taking on more green hues. Leaf colour can be quite variable between two neighbouring plants – anything from a pale, washed-out looking greeny blue, to rich greens and purples. Flower heads are starting to form by now, and before opening they knock the spots off purple sprouting broccoli in every department!
By mid-May, most of the flower heads should have opened out into fabulous crowns of small white flowers and if you are among a large colony, you will be intoxicated by the honied scent of the blossoms. They taste as good as they smell and make a striking and delicious accompaniment to meat and fish. The stems taste mildly of pea and cabbage which combines remarkably well with the sweetness of the blossom. I have seen seasoned michelin starred chefs get as giddy as a child in a sweetie shop when introduced to this for the first time! The leaves by now will be getting large and thick, but you should still be able to find young, tender ones if you delve through the foliage.
By summer, some of the leaves may be a much as 2 feet long by which time they will have become tough, bitter and in need of a lot of cooking if you plan to eat them. I have had success cutting them into long ribbons and cooking like tagliatelle. A word of warning here though: my wife and I once ate a delicious fully-foraged meal of Wigtown Bay sea bass stuffed with sorrel and sweet ciceley served on a bed of mature sea kale leaf tagliatelle. It left both of us at a rapid rate of knots in liquid form exactly 30 minutes later and sea kale was the most likely culprit! I should add that there were absolutely no other ill effects, it simply left us feeling light and purged. I’m sure there are Hollywood starlets that would pay a lot for such an ingredient!
As summer progresses, strange round translucent green fruits appear. They look like peas and taste like cabbage and are the final wonderful twist in the life-cycle of this remarkable plant before it dies back to escape the winter storms.