IT’S known as glasswort, seagrass, sea pickle, pickleweed, pickle grass, sea bean or even poor man’s asparagus, but, no matter what you call it, marsh samphire—Salicornia europaea—deserves a place on your plate. As the name suggests, you’ll find marsh samphire growing in coastal areas of England, such as the estuaries of Norfolk and the salt marshes and tidal flats of Somerset, where it not only tolerates salty conditions, but thrives on them, forming a green carpet of what look like mini cacti (minus the needles) or slender branches of coral. For those who have never sampled this seaside treasure, what does it taste like? ‘I’d describe the flavour of marsh samphire as asparagusy, cucumbery and salty, with a crunch,’ summarises Cornwall-based chef and restaurateur Nathan Outlaw.
Although marsh samphire shares a common name with rock samphire, another salt-loving plant, they are unrelated. Rock samphire (Crithmum maritimum) is a member of the carrot family and is found growing in crevices, cliff edges and along rocky coastlines. Both are edible, but rock samphire was, historically, more highly prized, if for no other reason than it often took two stalwart souls to harvest it—one to dangle over a cliff edge and the other to ensure he didn’t topple over. The practice is mentioned unkindly in Shakespeare’s King Lear: ‘Half way down hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade.’
Denne historien er fra April 28, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra April 28, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
