I get by with a little kelp from my friends
Seaweed can be versatile and tasty, as Sophie Merkins reveals in this extract from her book Grow: Wa¯hine Finding Connection Through Food, which has just been shortlisted in the NZ Booklovers Awards for Best Lifestyle Book 2023.
Rebecca Gouldhurst is a holistic naturopath and counsellor who strongly believes that our health and happiness go hand in hand. She’s also wonderfully seaweedobsessed, has written an edible seaweed guide, and gives free community workshops to teach people how to access healing, nutritious foods for free.
I attended one of these workshops, along the city’s rugged coast. Attendees came for all sorts of reasons: there were gardeners wanting to add seaweed to compost, some with serious health concerns who were looking for a healing alternative, some who saw the cost of buying seaweed as prohibitive, and others who came out of sheer curiosity.
At low tide, we ventured into the rock pools, eyes focused down, scanning for sea greens, each holding a cloth bag, woven kete, bucket, or bicycle basket to store our goodies. Rebecca stood calfdeep in her gumboots, beaming with enthusiasm as she shared her interests and empowered others.
She pointed out the qualities of the seaweeds we were foraging: the round pearls of Neptune’s necklace (an old preventative for goitre), olive-green wakame (an invasive but edible seaweed), bright green sea lettuce (the ocean’s version of silky lettuce), brownish-purple karengo (closely related to Japanese nori), sturdy rimurapa (bull kelp, which Ma¯ ori traditionally use as an oven bag or in ha¯ ngi), and bulbous bladderwrack.
We munched away as we foraged, fuelling ourselves with fresh protein, iodine and iron.
Later, Rebecca told us how to dry seaweed (on a clothesline, in a dehydrator, or in a warm oven) and that properly dried seaweed would keep for years without losing its nutrients. I was utterly amazed at how much you could learn in two hours, and felt inspired by how a small workshop could have such a huge impact.
A few nights later, I met Rebecca and her partner, Malcolm, at their home, perched above Lyall Bay. We took our drinks down to the terraced garden to meet their white hen, creatively named Whitey, under the laden pear tree, where we snacked on their prolific cape gooseberries. At dinner, I sat mesmerised by the changing light. As the sun set below seven layers of mountains, framed by her lounge windows, we talked of Rebecca’s journey here and her passion for sharing her knowledge about seaweed.
How did you get into naturopathy?
As a kid, I was groomed to be a doctor. My mum was a nurse and my dad a doctor, but I wasn’t academic. Later on, I was living in a Buddhist community in Queensland and my brother came
to visit. He had really bad acne, so I took him to a naturopath and his severe acne went away. It was such a miracle, I thought maybe that’s something that I could do. When I was travelling around the world, I saw people with so many simple health conditions, like goitre or malnutrition, that could very easily be fixed. I thought being a naturopath could be very rewarding, a way of offering medicines that weren’t poisonous or toxic or inconsiderate of the person.
How did you begin seaweed foraging?
When I popped out of naturopathic school I worked in a health-food shop. It was Japaneseorientated, with macrobiotic food, and macrobiotics eat a lot of seaweed, so I learnt all about seaweeds. As a naturopath and a herbalist, I really value seaweeds. When I came to New Zealand, I did a great foraging and seaweed workshop with [Christchurchbased professional forager] Peter Langlands. Seaweed can be a boutique business, but I wanted people to have access to it, freely. It turns out that lots of people want to know about seaweed and how to use it.
Why is eating seaweed important for our diet?
It has iron, and it’s a complete protein. It’s also full of iodine and is a really good source of omega-3 – fish actually get their omegas from the seaweed. It’s fantastic for vegans and vegetarians.
Has collecting seaweed changed your relationship with the natural environment?
I’ve always loved nature and have been outdoorsy. Part of the joy of my last foraging workshop was seeing everyone having so much fun; we could have all been five years old.
Do you think that foraging influences emotional health?
It’s all connected. I refuse to compartmentalise health now. I think that sometimes people are sick or troubled because they’ve compartmentalised so much. There’s a lot of healing involved in being all of yourself, accepting those parts that you don’t want to accept. That’s the beauty of foraging. It nourishes all those different parts of you – the spiritual, whilst being physical, and forming emotional and social connections. Foraging offers you an opportunity to be connected to nature. Nature is a powerful healer and nourishing for the nervous system and immune system. By slowing down and being in the groove of nature, it offers people a lot.
What advice do you have for somebody wanting to begin a seaweed-foraging journey? Collect away from polluted areas. Explore the seashore, see what you find, pick things up, photograph them, identify them, and have a taste.
Rebecca’s workshop showed me how easy it is to identify seaweed, and how nutritious it is. In just two hours, she had taught me enough to make a seaweedrich meal, and even left me confident to pass on her knowledge to willing family and friends. For New Zealand coastal dwellers, seaweed foraging may be the most accessible wild-food portal – offering nourishment and a deeper connection to the environment.
Seaweed feels like a lost culinary ingredient in our everyday kitchens. But since Rebecca’s workshop, I’ve started nibbling on Neptune’s necklace on the beach and made sea-lettuce salad and a delightful French seaweed pesto; and I have plans to pickle seaweed in the future.