Pineapple Weed

One of the food blogs I follow semi-religiously is Fat of the Land - which chronicles the adventures in foraging for food of a former coworker of mine (though I don't believe we ever met). He has a book coming out in August titled Fat of the Land: Adventures of a 21st Century Forager, which I'm eager to get my hands on. His blog posts are great, and the fact that he lives here in Seattle means the edible plants he finds along roadsides and in urban wild areas are items I could feasibly run into in my 'hood.



Case in point is Pineapple Weed - Matricaria discoidea. When I saw his recent post about this tough little Northwest Native, the photos sparked my memory. I knew I'd seen that little plant either in my childhood or perhaps more recently, but wasn't sure when or where.

Today, on my 3 mile walk to work through Beacon Hill, the International District, and into Downtown Seattle, I had that little weed on the brain, and kept a lookout anytime I walked through an area that could be categorized as fitting Langdon's description of the perfect Pineapple Weed territory: "compacted soil, sidewalks, gravel beds, old lots".

And as I entered the International District, cutting down a side street, I spotted my first Pineapple Weed... or, more accurately, my first Pineapple Weed that I knew was a Pineapple Weed. Some might cringe at the idea of eating something you find in the wild (or growing out of cracks in the sidewalk), but this is a very recognizable plant, not only physically, but also thanks to the pineapple-like aroma it gives off when squeezed. So the classic 'Omnivore's Dilemma' that Michael Pollan describes so well was mitigated because Pineapple Weed is about as instantly recognizable as a can of Coke.

I happened to have a little cloth bag in my backpack, so I pulled it out and began popping off a few of the flowers from each of the many plants in the area - leaving plenty for the plants to further propagate (and for any other foragers).

I took the fruits of my lazy labor to work with me, washed them off, and then tossed them in a coffee cup with some hot water to steep (I was pretty sure they wouldn't dry out in my 15th floor, temperature controlled office, so I skipped that step).

The flavor was suble - a little like chamomile, but with a pineapple scent. Not at all bitter, as some web entries suggest. And if wikipedia is correct, it's good for gastrointestinal upset, so that's a nice bonus.

I can't wait to see what else I can find on my walk to work that might make a good addition to our dinner table. I only wish his book came out sooner!