The capers available in stores are made from the buds of a bush that grows readily in the wild throughout the Mediterranean. And while the caper plant can and does grown well in our Southern California climate, there's a much more readily available source for making what canning blogger Kevin West calls California Capers: nasturtiums. The vine-y flower is wholly edible, from flowers to leaves to shoots, but if the flowers are left to form seed pods--these capers come from the opposite end of the plant cycle from the traditional ones--they can be picked, run through a few changes of brine, then stored in vinegar and used in any recipe calling for capers. As a common landscaping groundcover-cum-vine, nasturtiums are more Fallen Fruit-style urban foraging than other edibles on this list, but if you looked hard enough, I'm sure there's some opportunistic wild tangles of the flower to be found in the Southland too.
Willy BlackmoreFennel Plants
3. 4. & 5. Fennel seeds, fronds, pollen
If there is a vegetable equivalent to the nose-to-tail philosophy of eating meat, its mascot would be fennel to the carnivore versions pork. From bulb to flower and pollen, from stalk to seed, fennel offers a variety of flavors and textures throughout its growing season. Unlike domestic fennel, the kind you buy at the grocery store or farmers' market, a lot of wild fennel doesn't produce a bulb, so cooking with it is a slightly different game.
If you get at a plant early enough, when its still very small the stalks haven't begun to get woodsy, it can be treated like cultivated varieties, but if that window has closed--which, this far into spring, it likely has--there are plenty of other ways to approach the plant in the kitchen. Stalks can be used in a broth or as a bed to roast meat or fish atop of. Fronds, which are a bit tougher than the wispy, dill-like greenery you're likely used to, will make pork of any variety sing--just be sure to sauté or blanch it, to soften it up. And come fall, after the plants have bolted and shot up to over six feet tall, there will be fennel flowers and, after that, fennel seeds to forage for. We tried gathering our own fennel pollen from flowers last year, a laborious effort which will forever remind us of why the stuff is so expensive to buy, but arguably worth the effort; as good as a bone-in pork chop coated with wild fennel fronds tastes, one dusted with fennel pollen tastes infinitely better. Fennel flower-infused liquor is another recipe we have our eye on.
After the small clusters of yellow flowers turn in on themselves and develop into small clusters of green seeds, fennel's last offering of the year can be had very easily: the seeds can be harvested by the handful and just a few minutes of picking will probably give you a years supply. If you're are looking to stock your spice rack for the long haul, wait until the seeds have dried out somewhat and the seeds are no longer sticky.
America has come a long way from the days of iceberg wedge salads and creamed spinach, having embraced the wonderful variety of lettuces, chicories and other greens that have becoming increasingly commercially available. As a result, pre-washed, clamshell-packaged of bagged baby greens practically have their own isle in the grocery store. But the history of many of these greens, especially those of Italian provenance, are as foraged foods, with the likes of arugula never seeing any kind of large commercial cultivation until the 1990s. Dandelion greens are plentiful and easy to identify, although they become unpalatably bitter after they've bolted, so its best to pick leaves from plants sans flowers.
This is a bit of a catchall inclusion, but with so many aromatic plants growing in our various ecosystems, from chaparral to coastal scrublands, we could have devoted the majority of this list to these various herbs: sages, mints, yerba Buena and more.
Honey isn't exactly something which is foraged for--unless you're going to brave a wild hive of bees--but in employing these insects to collect the nectar of any variety of flowers, they're essentially doing the foraging work for beekeepers and sharing the results. Since bees began mysteriously disappearing a few years back, the plight of the overworked commercial bee--and the serious effect reduced bee populations have on our entire agricultural system--have received a good amount of coverage, with urban beekeeping put forth as a way to save and protect bees. And with the practice of beekeeping as described by the LA-based blog Backwards Beekeepers, a found hive, seen as a pest to a homeowner or office or wherever the creatures choose to nest, can be rescued, relocated and cared for, only for the cost of a bit of honey in return.