Editor’s note: This commentary is by Mike Bald, the founder of Got Weeds?, an invasive plant species management company based in Royalton and serving clients across New England. He uses non-chemical methods and seeks to grow land stewardship capacity within communities.
[I]t’s time for some new buzz in the world of avant-garde, Snapchat-worthy, exquisite dining.
Fiddleheads are out, those cute little baby ostrich ferns are no longer the hot item in New England, the ultra-delicacy, the pièce de résistance headlining menu boards. No, the ostrich fern is a native species that plays a vital role along riverbanks and in lowland areas. It needs a few years to recover from the aggressive over-harvesting we’ve imposed every spring, especially after expending all that energy to recover from Irene. We know this right, all of us well-meaning, informed, sustainability-conscious consumers? We know the source of our tasty treat, non? Very good, so what can we replace such an exquisite delicacy with? I sense … opportunity … is there perhaps a chance to achieve a “Vermont brand” marketing coup? Is there opportunity to contribute to the world of erosion control and healthy streambanks and riparian biodiversity as well? Hmmm, I wonder …
Perfect, yes, Japanese knotweed – grows in abundance, edible as early tender shoots, and even healthy for us. What’s more, once we get in a couple good years of aggressive knotweed harvesting, our riverbanks will recover their fern populations and we’ll all live happily ever after, with fiddleheads again gracing the menus. We can even sprinkle some garlic mustard pesto onto our knotweed sauté for added zest and gusto. Brilliant! Now we just need a catchy name. Over time, Japanese knotweed has gone by the Latin names Polygonum cuspidatum and Fallopia japonica. Can anyone think of a good jingle with those names to slide onto the menu? How ’bout Fallopia japonica Sauté oh Yay? Too long, perhaps. Polygon Yummm? Cornucopia fallopia? Well, at least it rhymes …
Tell you what, let’s open it up for public creativity, but we’ll need the new name in hand by early May when young shoots start poking through. Then we’ll all enjoy our new dish and talk all about it at the UVM Food Summit in June. I don’t really know what they talk about at the food summit, but we’ll show them how we are harvest-managing an aggressive invasive species that contributes drastically to riverbank instability and therefore EROSION. We don’t want erosion; we want functional biodiversity, and we want to eat like royalty as we accomplish that transition. Nice, well done! And perhaps some of that food summit funding can combine with a dash of the “Vermont brand” marketing campaign to gift the creative name crafters with a nifty little cash reward. Best couple of Benjamins the state would ever spend, if you ask me. Come to Vermont everybody and see what’s cooking this year!
I know some among you will insist that fiddleheads are all about tradition, and replacing them on the menu is a travesty. OK, fine, leave them on the menu, just make the switch in the backroom and add extra garlic. Distract the diners with a little chit-chat about the charcuterie and cheese. Bring out some more wine and a knotweed pie. When questions arise, simply clarify for the good visitor that the lovely fiddlehead tradition is in fact washing away with each passing season. Salted roads, invasive species, and over-harvesting are making things tough on our fine-fronded friends. And what moves in to the empty space when the over-harvest wraps up? Yes, Japanese knotweed, in droves. Knotweed is rather tenacious in terms of removal or eradication, so perhaps not letting it get started in the first place is a reasonable idea. I can verify for you that Japanese knotweed is the absolute most asked-about and ecologically destructive of the non-native plant species. Our most sensitive and vital slices of the landscape – the riverbank buffer zones – become endless stretches of knotweed, to the exclusion of virtually all other plants. That’s a problem many of us are face-to-face with all summer.
And my favorite spaceholder/placeholder to compete with knotweed is the amazing and useful burdock. I’ve been asking for years now the same question, over and over: “Who loves burdock?” I have seen a mere two hands jut upwards, while grimaces and painful memories washed over the faces of everyone else. This is most unfortunate … burdock is a useful plant for herbalists; it deserves some love. Yes, there are complications related to fur and hair. I submit however, that there is no other species quite so competitive with Japanese knotweed; we could save ourselves a ton of work and stress if we would just stop whacking the burdock and snipping the fiddleheads. The problem is a creation of our own doing, now let’s get the saucepans fired up and get the munch on.
Buon appetito!
