The scent, the colour, the folklore … wildlife writer Jane Adams says wild garlic isn’t just food for the table, it’s a tonic for the end-of-winter soul
Two things hit you when you step into a wood full of wild garlic: the sharp, pungent scent and the lush, almost irresistible colour that makes you want to dive right in. Each March, I visit a wood just like this. Brown hares lollop lazily around its edges, and one year, a roe deer passed so close I heard its vapourous breath. These places hold a magical quality – calm and quiet, and a world away from the rush of our modern lives. In a few weeks, the wild garlic’s starburst blooms and bluebells’ drooping bells will overwhelm these fresh leaves.
But for now, before the flowers appear, it’s the perfect place to recharge a winter-weary mind and body with a generous dose of green.
It’s probably no surprise to learn that wild garlic, as well as a useful source of food, has a long history of medicinal uses. At one time, it was used to support heart health, lower blood pressure and improve circulation. Rich in sulphur compounds, it shares many of the same benefits as cultivated garlic, though milder. Herbalists also used it as a natural antibiotic and remedy for colds, digestive issues and skin conditions – a perfect way to purify the blood after the harsh winter months.
Wild garlic goes by all sorts of names. You’ll often hear it called ransoms, but also bear’s garlic, gypsy’s onion and stinking nanny (which seems a bit harsh on the nannies!). In Dorset, people believed it either scared off or attracted the Devil, earning it the name devil’s posy. Its powerful, almost otherworldly fragrance likely helped fuel these folklores, giving wild garlic a bit of a mysterious air.
Foragers love its edible leaves, which pack a real punch of garlicky flavour. It has a long season – four to five months – so you don’t have to rush out and start picking, but they’re best picked before the flowers bloom, usually from late February to early April, as the leaves turn more bitter once the flowers show up.
Me? I’m all for just leaving it be.
Just the sight of its deep unspoiled lushness is enough to purify my sluggish winter blood. And don’t worry, you won’t forget its scent in a hurry. The smell of crushed wild garlic is likely to linger with you for days – even weeks – when it is caught on the soles of your boots. Leave your wellies in your car, and every time you pop to the shops or dash for the school run, you’ll get a little whiff of that green goodness all over again.
Did you know …
The Latin name for wild garlic, Allium ursinum, comes from the word ursa, meaning bear. This is down to the fact that brown bears dig up and eat the bulbs in the wild, leading to one of the plant’s common names, bear’s garlic. If you go down to the woods today, you’re in for a big surprise … but it won’t be a bear!
