And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains."
– Aaron Hill, early 18th century,
The Sting by which we know this nettle is shot from tiny hairs on the underside of its leaves. Upon contact, these ferocious hairs shoot poison darts of uric acid into your skin, provoking a persistent sting and red welts. Stinging Nettle's Latin name is Urtica Dioica (medical name for hives: urticaria). The sting is a rumored therapy for arthritis and is apparently an aphrodisiac for some.
Three centuries after Mr. Hill's poem, the debate is ongoing among eaters of the wild plants: can you pick nettle without getting stung? The other side claims: pluck with intention, connection and permission of the plant. With one afternoon of such psychologically demanding nettle picking, my hands were uselessly swollen and painful; perhaps because I am a woman, rather than a "man," of mettle. Based upon other passages by Mr. Hill (quoted above) about women, as well as my personal painful experiences, this poem is obviously pure, male-chauvinistic metaphor. And since when is Not getting stung more manly than getting stung?
I realize I've said nothing thus far to cause any sane person to seek out this plant, much less pluck and devour it. But once you've experienced the powerful energy and rich flavor of this oft-feared, moist-land plant, she will become a coveted spring time treat.
In our arid prairie, nettle congregates along rivers and streams. I wonder what affect pollution of our local streams has upon nettles and subsequently myself.
Identification shouldn't be too hard; just reach out and touch it! The green leaves grow two at time up the stem, are mint shaped, with pointy ovals and toothy edges. When they are too old to eat and 3-9 feet tall, seeds dangle like elegant earrings beneath the leaves. Baby wild mint and baby red dead nettle look similar to baby stinging nettle. However, the mint is soft and red dead nettle has a purplish tinge to the leaves, under which emerge pink flowers. Whereas red dead nettle and wild mint aren't poisonous, indubitable identification is still a good idea. I once mistakenly picked red dead nettle, rejoicing that I had finally mustered the required mettle for a manly stingless forage. Then a Real nettle stung my hand and ego.
I choose to collect my nettles using a few basic tools: two plastic bags. I cover my sinister, incredibly dominant, left hand with one bag and hold the other bag open with my nearly useless right hand. I pluck the top few inches of each little baby plant (plants less than 10" tall) with my plastic-bag-gloved hand, dropping the tops in my other bag. Although less quaint than a basket and less dashing than leather gloves, this method was developed with a lot of passionate debate and experimentation.
Rest assured, most men and women of varying degrees of mettle do not Eat nettle raw. You have nothing to prove here. Steam or boil them for 10-15 minutes, after which time they cannot hurt you. Warning: don't use your bare hands to guide fresh nettles into their pot. They will continue to sting until they are cooked or dried.
I plop my lumps of steamed, phenomenally green nettles on noodles and marinara sauce, on rice with soy sauce, in soup, even in a lasagna layer. Any where cooked greens go, cooked nettles go too.
Dried nettle also works in soups, sauces and curries. Perhaps dried nettle is best as a nutritious infusion: pour boiling water over nettles (and whatever else), cover, steep for 4 hours. For the last 10 minutes, I toss in mint for flavor. Add honey when still warm. Strain/drink or strain/refrigerate/drink.
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"Grasp it with a bag of plastic,
No test of mettle! It's fantastic!"
– Sarajoy Van Boven, early 21st century, Palouse