stinging nettles

Nettles are one of my favorite spring greens. They make me think of Spokane, one of the few places I’ve lived that had a real winter. The return of the color green in spring was a true miracle. Stinging nettles grew thick and vicious along the muddy trails of Riverside Park, and I would often come home from a run with their love bites burning on my bare thighs. Back then I didn’t know you could eat them, but I did intuit that underneath the sting, nettles were my friends.

I first started eating nettles when I was cooking at Three Stone Hearth, where I learned that nettles calm the nervous system and have traditionally been taken by women as a nourishing and strengthening tonic during menstruation. My acupuncturist, Shoshana, has also recommended nettles to benefit kidney qi.

Last night a friend asked what nettles taste like, and before I could answer she guessed, Grass? Maybe, I said, but to me they taste darker and earthier than the sunshiny smell of grass. When I eat nettles or drink nettle tea, I instantly feel myself coming down to earth.

I haven't yet learned to harvest wild nettles, so I buy them at the farmers market. Empty the bag of nettles directly into the pot without touching them; once cooked they won't sting you.

Cover the pot with water, bring to a boil, and strain. Then you can chop them up and use them as you like.

Drink the nettle cooking water as a tea, or add it to your broth.

This is a miso soup with fish, seasoned with lemon, cilantro, cumin, and ginger. I learned to eat avocado with soup in the Dominican Republic. I think its nutritional function is similar to that of sour cream or crème fraîche in the soups of other cuisines. In any case, it is delicious! Add the avocado once the soup is cool enough to taste without scalding your tongue.