I have a childhood scar on my left hand from when I selected the sharpest knife from the drawer and confidently stabbed right through a plastic lid deep into my middle finger. I was making a home for some small creatures I’d found under some wood in the garden and was trying to pierce breathing holes for them in an old yoghurt tub. Instead they were abandoned and I had to go to our local doctor after hours to have my skin sewn together in three neat little stiches. I’d been exploring the back garden of our then family home just a field away from the top of the cliffs above The Giants Causeway all day long. Looking back it seems there were hundreds of those days; outside, mucky, grazed knees, head full of imagination heart full of adventure. The kind of days that shaped me.
We had a stunner of a day like that this week, fortunately minus the stiches. The weather somehow knew we all needed our vitamin D boosted, we needed to spring clean (physical and metaphorical), to run around outside and immerse ourselves in bright sunshiny spring. I felt an immediate lift in my mood, a hopeful and positive mind shift, the kids laughter a great soundtrack and the carefree feeling of freedom from any plans or commitments. I watched the tadpoles in the pond, grabbed a handful of gorseflower for the heaven scent and found a ladybird, which somehow always brings an instant smile. I picked nettles, drawn to their nutrient dense but irritatingly stingy leaves, an addictive challenge. We enjoyed the last of the sun with an icy drink before dinner and everyone tumbled inside, a little stubbornly, for food and baths. Before bed I walked up the garden to look at the almost full moon and took a few last breaths of that beautiful day.
The next morning the north coast rain had descended; no sign of the island, the town or the mountain, her lower slopes only slightly visible through the dismal grey drizzle. All day long the rain kept on, relentless. Hats and hoodies that had been discarded in the sun the day before now lay sodden on the grass and the prospect of enjoyable fresh air or any outside time seemed slim. My plan for the nettles changed from something summery and light to something filling and comforting. I opened the bookcase to flick through a few of my favourite cookbooks but something else caught my eye. A journal.
For a few months, when Dara and I were off on our adventure around the world, we worked at a magical place called Furneaux Lodge in New Zealand; it was a remote hotel on the Queen Charlotte track in the Marlborough Sounds and was only reachable by boat or hiking. Apart from being slap bang in the middle of subtropical native bush, surrounded by abundant wildlife and living on the edge of a crystal-clear inlet full of fish and Eagle Rays the best thing about our time there was the people! The staff were an eclectic mix of travellers from all around the world and we all bunked up together in the wooden lodge, from Santiago to Berlin, Blois to Tasmania. Everyday we had a main meal together; between lunch and dinner service and we’d all sit out by the wormery sharing stories over food. Simon made a mean focaccia; Marcus used the leftovers for Knödel. Quite literally, away from our family and friends, these people were our companions (com, with and panis, bread).
At the time I wasn’t sure why I kept the journal but reading back on it now it’s amazing the details of the everyday that would have been totally forgotten. The main recurring theme is homesickness as I was and will forever remain a homebird. But I had written down Marcus’s Knödel recipe, more a vague description and thought the nettles would work nicely. These dumplings originate in Austria, Germany and appear in various forms across eastern Europe. After a quick search, many have meat or are simmered in a meat stock but these worked out well. Chopped wild garlic would be delicious in these but it was far too wet to get out foraging!
Nettle Knödel
Top tips
· Wash your nettles really well, those tiny spiky hairs can hold onto dirt.
· Be sure the mixture isn’t too wet
· Don’t let the water boil
· Make sure the Knödel are tightly shaped
Makes 8-enough for 2 people
Ingredients
140g sourdough breadcrumbs
75g washed and chopped nettle (put in a pan over a medium heat and put the lid on until softened, about 5 mins) Take out immediately so they don’t discolour and when cool squeeze out as much water as you can.
30g finely chopped onion
100ml milk
10g melted butter
1 egg, beaten
Salt, pepper and chopped herbs- I used tarragon and marjoram which have both appeared already in the garden.
Method
In a bowl stir together the breadcrumbs, nettle, onion, milk, butter and herbs. Mix well and leave for 10 mins. Meanwhile heat water in a large saucepan. Pour in the beaten egg and seasoning and knead for a few minutes until uniform texture then shape into balls, I made mine about the size of a golf ball which is smaller than the traditional ones. Make sure they are very well formed. When the water is just about simmering add the Knödel and cook gently for 10 minutes. I had mine with sauerkraut and cheese.
