Happy (end of) June, food & foraging friends!
I came to Colombia wanting to get a big ass.
Yes, Colombia is one of the world’s plastic surgery capitals, both for foreigners and local women (who sometimes are gifted surgeries for their quinceaneras, 15th birthday celebrations). But I was here for an ass of a different kind: Hormigas culonas, which translates as big-assed ants. These chunky leafcutter ants are a seasonal delicacy of the Santander region, also packaged as tourist novelties sold by a select few vendors roaming the steep slopes of Medellin’s once deadly, now thriving Comuna 13, where I found them. Buttery, crunchy, nutty, surprisingly delicious: I could see why this is a thing!
Like the big assed ant, Colombia is naturally endowed with more than its fair share of Earth’s life forms, with more biodiversity of bird life alone than any other nation. And with the nation’s long-standing conflict calmed, an increasing number of tourists are coming to experience it. This free nature tourism guide highlights hundreds of the thousands of species one can hope to see in Colombia (and a few snakes, spiders and scorpions you can hope to avoid). Even in the heart of Medellin, we were able to watch gorgeous orange-chinned parakeets and other birds alighting on electric wires from our AirBNB patio every morning!
For all its verdancy though, Colombian food is incredibly fatty, starchy and… delicious. Unlike my normal steady diet of wild greens, I ate my weight in corn and flour in Medellin, in the form of arepas, empanadas, patacones, buñuelos, papa rellenas and more. (When I asked a Colombian about vegetables, he said, oh, but we eat plenty of potatoes and plantains!)
As a forager, the local rainbow of fruits, both wild and cultivated, was one of the treats of the trip. I learned a few new fruits of the Andes, including naranjilla (Solanum quitoense, known in Colombia as lulo – on display at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival this weekend!), a nightshade that tasted like lime and pineapple with a floral note. It’s got a seedy center like a groundcherry, another nightshade native to South America known here as uchuva.
Lulo is little cultivated outside this region, being susceptible to bruises and pests, making it an even more special treat. It’s pressed into fresh juice by street vendors (often with milk added) and added to cocktails by fancypants bartenders (the lulo sour, a twist on the Pisco sour with frothy egg whites, was a personal fave); I also found it in the supermarket both fresh and as a flavoring in packaged green tea, as well as in gourmet chocolate.
Roaming Parque Arvi some 3,000 feet above Medellin’s mountain valley, I was also delighted to find a few native blueberry and blueberry-adjacent species. Mortiño (Vaccinium floribundum or meridionale) is a wild Andean blueberry I tasted in a tart, concentrated cottage wine from a market vendor; with the help of iNaturalist I also identified the flowers of the mountain grape (Cavendishia bracteata). The mountain grape is more closely related to blueberries than grapes, botanically as well as supposedly in flavor, though it was too early in the season to try them.
My biggest aha moment, though, was realizing that one of the most prolific weeds cropping up in my DC community garden bed right now is a native of Colombia, and an essential ingredient to one of the country’s classic soups! Galinsoga parviflora, commonly known as quickweed or gallant soldier, is known locally as guasca; the herb can be found packaged in stores or in the wild as I did throughout Medellin.
Chef Alan Bergo dishes on this daisy relative here, including how to preserve it for ajiaco, a classic chicken soup of Bogotá served with unlikely condiments like capers and cream.
While not native to Colombia, I had to share a photo (see below) of the pink banana I saw growing wild in a few spots around Medellin, because they look like they were dipped in neon paint! This species (Musa velutina) actually hails from Himalayas.
Botanical adventures aside, I had so many incredible experiences in Medellin, traveling from horseback to cable car, accompanying a dear friend who was there on an ethnomusicology research trip. Check out Instagram posts from my trip here.
Left/top: Tropical fruits like lulo are the stars of Medellin’s cocktail makers. Bottom right shows a formiga culoga vendor and beside it, guascas, or quickweed, an herb indigenous to Colombia found in US gardens as a weed.
Right/bottom: Wild mountain grapes and Andean blueberries (mortiño) in Parque Arvi (bottom right, the ripe fruit and a wine made from the berry).
Back in DC, foraging fun this month included being featured on City Cast DC; organizing MAW’s annual mushroom cooking competition (we had a dozen incredibly creative and well-executed entries, but for me the candied wood ear flavored with Oregon grape stole the show); and enjoying the first milkweed flowers of the season from my garden, now fermenting in a gorgeous fuchsia cordial.
My schedule is light on workshops right now other than a few privately organized walks (if you’re a 50+ woman, reach out for info on a private walk opening up soon for that demographic)! And if you’re interested in collaborating on a walk or workshop, I’d love to hear from you!
Wildly yours,
April
PS: if you are new to my mailing list – welcome! You can find past editions here, or unsubscribe at any time using the link below. And if you like what you’re reading, please share with a friend.