EAT YOUR GREENS
Seaweed is one of Scotland’s most underappreciated natural resources and foraging it from the shore is a surefire way to get fresh produce into your diet
Foraging for seaweed has nutritional, physical and mental health benefits
Ihave always found seaweed fascinating but I have never knowingly eaten it. It lurks deep in the small print of a range of food ingredients beside lists of colourings and preservatives, and even then, in nomenclature with which most mortals are not conversant. However, at low tide, even an artistic gardener would be hard-pressed to deny the wealth of wonderment found in the marine garden.
Seaweed comes in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours, from crimson red to emerald green, but there is far more to the algae than meets the eye.
On a recent foray to St Kilda, I was wistfully inhaling a few last breaths of the extraordinary atmosphere whilst being pressed to return to the departing boat. Suddenly, I spied Scotland’s foraging queen, Fiona Bird, perched on a lichen-covered wall with her doctor husband, Stephen. It amused me to visit our furthest-flung windswept outpost, and bump into a friend. She was in her element, surrounded by the tempestuous sea. Even in this harsh environment she would quickly seek and prepare some fabulous foraged delicacy, in this case surely seaweed. I barely had time to say hello before I had to rush to the slipway. Virgil and Fiona Bird are not in agreement when it comes to t he delights of eating seaweed – the former claimed that, ‘there was nothing more vile and worthless’. But Fiona, an author and BBC Masterchef runner-up, uses seaweed in much of her day-to-day cooking, and has a
‘Foraging is slow food and every trip is a unique expedition’
practical approach to the world of phycology, and indeed to all aspects of foraging in the natural environment, together with enough persuasive passion to convert the greatest sceptic.
Though for centuries seaweed has been widely used in the Far East, the Pacific, Scandinavia, and New Zealand, it appears that from a nutritional viewpoint, it has been slow to catch on in the UK. In previous generations it was viewed as the food of the poor. Even now that we are increasingly aware of its immense value, it is only served fresh in a few enlightened restaurants, and seldom as part of our daily menus at home.
However, Scotland has a long history of seaweed harvesting. It has been used as a preservative, a gelling and setting agent, and even ice cream usually contains seaweed (alginate), as do soap and toothpaste. Seaweed is also a mainstay of the cosmetic industry, and has been employed for centuries in folk medicine to treat various ailments.
It is still used in alternative therapies, and many supplements due to its high iodine and vitamin content, as well as numerous other health-giving properties. The kelp industry was particularly prevalent in the Western Isles, where it was collected and burned in a kiln to produce potash and soda for use in various forms, including glass and soap making.
Seaweed has also been used to feed livestock. It is extraordinarily nutritious – indeed the wiry North Ronaldsay sheep of Orkney thrive on a diet based on seaweed and usually favour dulse and oarweed. Deer, sheep and cattle on the mainland will often wander to the shore to eat various weeds.
It is still gathered in the Hebrides after heavy storms and used directly as a rich fertiliser to help grow the meagre crops. Its importance for enriching the soil has never been overlooked and many organic fertilisers are based on seaweed.
In the Bird household on South Uist, where Fiona’s husband Stephen is the local GP, seaweed is part of the staple diet. ‘With six hungry children to feed, foraging has always been part of my daily routine, and here on the island where often the only alternative is ferrytired vegetables, what could be better than using fresh, seasonal veg straight from the
shore?’ As well as using seaweed as a vegetable and making it into a surprising range of delicious repasts, Fiona usually adds a handful of dried dulse or laver to her simple bread recipe. There are between 500-600 seaweeds found in British waters, and though a few are poisonous, some 20 are particularly good to eat. These include dulse, pepper dulse, carrageen, tangle, dabberlocks, grape pip weed, laver, sea lettuce, wire weed, and various wracks – bladderwrack, knotted and serrated wrack, sea spaghetti and gut weed, among numerous others. The salty tang of seaweed is now very much in the air again as its benefits to our inc reasingly poor diets are gradually being recognised. In Japan, where seaweed has always been a diet staple, life expectancy is five years higher than in America, where it is seldom eaten. To the uninitiated who do not want to delve into the immense complexities of the subject, seaweed falls into three categories: red, brown and green. Fiona refers to some weeds as ‘kitchen chameleons’ as they change colour and flavour when cooked. Seaweed has a holdfast similar to a tree root and it is important when gathering it, that this remains intact.
‘There’s an inexplicable peace and relaxation associated with foraging, particularly in this world of fast food,’ says Fiona. ’Foraging is slow food and every trip is a unique expedition. Every tidal zone and area has its particular species and season, each reliant on the relentless movement of the sea.’
Recent science is looking at growing points, which vary from species to species. It’s also important to avoid picking weeds in areas where there is erosion, as their unfettered growth can help bind the coastline.
There are obvious places where weed collecting isn’t sensible, such as close to fresh water outlets and sewage pipes, and Fiona advises against foraging on t he high tideline after storms when weeds have been cast up and are not fresh. It’s also important to note that these vast banks of pungently rotting seaweed are rich with invertebrates, which are important for a wealth of birds, including the flocks of starlings that remain a glorious feature of Scotland’s islands.
Fiona’s foraging is totally in harmony with the fauna and flora she values so highly. ‘I take a basket and scissors and cut off the pieces I need. All seaweed should be rinsed in situ to enable as many residents as possible to find a new seaside home. It is so important to cause as little disturbance as possible.
‘My aim with seaweed collection, as it is with all foraging, is to take enough to share with others whilst leaving plenty for the birds and bees, as well as the next generation. This is the most important aspect of foraging for me, and though seaweed dries well and can be frozen, like most things, it is so much better fresh.’