A foraging classic that never goes out of style
Wild asparagus has long since been on the short list of most-loved foraged foods. In the United States, one of our best-known classic books on foraging is even named after this coveted plant (complete with a cute, stalk-based pun). And while that may be because asparagus itself is a versatile ingredient, I like to think that the popularity of wild asparagus is also because there is something a bit magical about this plant, how it grows, and when we harvest it.
Like mushrooms, which seem to push themselves out of the soil overnight (and some fungi do grow that quickly), asparagus shoots – those sweet, tender, and identifiable beginnings of the asparagus plant – arrive suddenly, disappear quickly, and bring the delight of the momentary. These almost alien-looking spears are also one of the first crops that can be harvested after winter recedes, making them harbingers of a long awaited spring. They offer a flash of vibrant green delicacy where there was, until quite recently, only the dry brown or stark white of winter, and fresh local produce where there was so recently a deficit.
Despite it being a delicious and useful vegetable, asparagus is also a hyper-seasonal food. This is because it is fairly delicate to transport, spoils quickly, and tastes much better when it is enjoyed soon after harvesting. The best asparagus usually comes from your local farm stand, harvested within hours of purchase; at a nearby farmers market, where this coveted crop may be only a day old; or, if you’re lucky enough, from a wild patch you’ve scouted and returned to year after year.
Wild asparagus is one of the many plants that we call “wild” when it is in fact naturalized, having been brought over to North America from Europe where it escaped from gardens in the form of seeds, which germinated and found new spots to grow and reproduce. This makes the wild variety of asparagus genetically identical to the cultivated asparagus grown at your local farm or shipped from afar to stock your grocery store. Since fresh and local asparagus is often one of the costlier crops due to the short harvest window and the swiftness with which it can lose its flavor and go gooey, locating a patch of the wild stuff is a true find for us foragers.
Whether cultivated or wild, the part of the asparagus plant that we eat is the new shoot. Though the plant bears the name “asparagus fern,” this species is not a fern at all, but incorrectly referred to as one since the mature plant has feathery foliage similar to some ferns. Asparagus, Latin name Asparagus officinalis, is a member of the Asparagaceae family, which also contains the very different-looking agave and spider plants. True ferns, on the other hand, are members of the Polypodiopsida family, which reproduces with spores instead of flowers and seeds.
The part of this plant we eat is that very young shoot, which means that most people aren’t as familiar with the plant in its later stages of growth. This can make it hard to identify wild asparagus if you stumble upon it outside of the harvest window. If left unharvested, asparagus goes through a quick and dramatic transformation, growing taller and spindlier, and rapidly becoming too woody and tough to cut and eat. It then begins to “fern out,” developing skinny branches with thready foliages that can also resemble the fine greenery at the end of fennel or dill plants. Asparagus plants can grow up to five or six feet tall, and later in the season bear small bell-shaped flowers that, on the female plants, turn into bright red poisonous berries.
Wild asparagus can be found in full and partial sun, and like so many other plants we forage for, enjoys the disturbed soil at the sides of roads, paths, and fences. This makes it both a plant that you might discover in your local neighborhood, as well as one to be thoughtful about harvesting, since many of these spots are where people spray harmful chemicals or where there could be roadside runoff. There are two times of year when it is easiest to spot wild asparagus – when the newly emerged spears, which look identical to the ones in the grocery store, are pushing out of the ground, and at the end of the growing season, when the tall, dried out ferny stalks stick around, turning an eye-catching yellowish color. If you spy a plant that fits this description in the late fall or winter, make it a point to return to that same spot in the spring when you first start to see asparagus sold at your local farm stands. You may just luck out and locate some of this sweet treat pushing out of the soil and stretching toward the spring sunshine.
Wild asparagus can be harvested when the shoots are still a hand or two high, and can be snapped off easily somewhere at the bottom of the base. Everything above the point where the spears snap can be cooked in the same ways you’d cook and enjoy store-bought asparagus, and the inch or two below can be used in a slow-cooked asparagus soup or as part of a veggie stock. As soon as the stalks are too tough to snap at the bases, the season is over, and the patch should be left on its own until the following year. Harvesting too much wild asparagus from one spot can reduce future productivity, so pick these tasty shoots judiciously and savor what you get, as opposed to trying to pick as much as possible from your discovered patch.
My favorite ways to cook whatever amount of wild asparagus I happen upon are the same as the ways I enjoy my store-bought asparagus: fresh in a salad with bright lemon juice and tangy feta; slowly cooked into a creamy soup; or sautéed with some garlic and either olive oil, butter, or both. If I choose to sauté my asparagus, I then enjoy it on its own as a side dish or add it to egg dishes like frittatas and scrambles, or rich and creamy pastas. I recommend eating any asparagus you find or purchase as soon as possible, since the flavor diminishes quite fast. But, if you need to keep them for a day or two I place them in the refrigerator standing upright in a tall container, cut side down, in an inch or so of water, leaving the tops uncovered.
As Euell Gibbons knew so well when he penned Stalking the Wild Asparagus in the 1960s, and as generations before him were aware when they brought this tasty plant with them around the world, there are few edible plants as delicious – and as fleeting – as asparagus. We foragers know this as well, and delight in the days when we happen upon a patch of tender shoots emerging from the newly-thawed spring. So enjoy this wild find while it lasts, happy harvesters, and take its presence as a sign that spring has, indeed, finally sprung.
*NOTE: Always consult with trusted experts and refer to foraging books and field guides for 100% positive plant identification before consuming any wild plant, and make sure you are familiar with every potentially dangerous plant that grows in your region. As with harvesting any wild plant, and particularly ones that grow in commonly-sprayed areas, take particular care to collect from spaces you know to be chemical-free. Never pick any wild plant from protected spaces. Integrate new foods into your diet in small quantities to gauge any dietary and allergy sensitivities, and consult with a doctor if you have any questions or concerns about specific health issues or medication interactions.
Becca Miller lives in the Adirondack Mountains and works as a professional farm-to-classroom educator, ceramics teacher, writer, and photographer. A former Cape Codder in residence but always a Cape Codder at heart, Becca spent her time living on the Cape running a CSA program where she taught members how to use harvest items in new and creative ways. Becca is a Certified Master Food Preserver and a Leave No Trace Trainer, and her writing has been featured in Edible Capital District, Edible Vermont, and Adirondac magazines, along with Alice Waters’ Edible Schoolyard blog and Mother Earth Living’s Food Matters blog. Find Becca’s writing at beccamillerwriting.weebly.com.
