Written in the sand... roots of sea-holly as a food of love

THE SPURN peninsula on a fine day is a place where visitors tend to look upwards, hoping to see one of those often rare birds on passage migration that on most days of the year funnel north or south along the three-mile spit of sand.

Or they look outwards across the vast Humber mudflats left exposed at low tide, or southwards over the estuary to see if they can spot the red-brick landmark of Grimsby Dock Tower.

But if they should glance downwards, as I did this month, they will begin to notice Spurn’s plantlife, which despite the peninsula almost lacking fertile soil seems to be as rich as anywhere on the Yorkshire coast.

Among the numerous species growing among the marram grass, the sand and the shingle, the plant I most associate with Spurn is sea-holly. Its spikey leaves are a silvery pale-green, which in winter look like they could have a faint covering of hoar-frost. And from now until September they sprout powderblue flowers that are similar to thistles.

The name sea-holly is misleading, though. It is not one of the 480 evergreen trees and shrubs of the Ilex genus associated with Christmas, but actually a member of the carrot family, Apiaceae.

On Spurn it seems to grow in thick clumps but is considered scarce elsewhere on this part of the Yorkshire coast. Visitors can see it while walking along the single-track road to the tip of the peninsula, especially if their attention is drawn to it by a butterfly. One species I sometimes find feeding on the flower in summer is the painted lady, which is more often associated with thistles.

The ice-like coating on leaves is actually a thin waxy cuticle which acts as a block to stop the plant from losing moisture in salty winds and drying out in the sun.

According to folklore, the roots – which have been found to reach several feet in length – have aphrodisiac qualities. Centuries ago they were sold in candied form, and Shakespeare alludes to this in his play The Merry Wives of Windsor when Falstaff says: “Let the sky... hail kissing comfits and snow eringoes.” Sea-holly roots were sold in apothecaries as “eringus”.

They were also considered an anti-ageing superfood, the goji berry of Elizabethan times. The botanist and herbalist John Gerard wrote that they were “exceedingly good” for old people who were “consumed and withered with age and want natural moisture”.

The herbalist Nicholas Culpepper recommended drinking distilled water from the young leaves and stalks to cure “melancholy of the heart”. These days, seashore foragers cut the whole plant and cook it as an asparagus-tasting vegetable.

Sea-holly is common in some parts of eastern England but scarce or completely absent in other places, particularly on the Northumberland coast. Most people see it in garden centres because it has become popular as an ornamental plant with numbers of hybrids under the name Eryngo. It thrives in gravelly soil when given lots of sunlight.