Chapter 5: The Wild Kitchen
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
We don't have to eat like we're in captivity. Somewhere between the grocery store aisles of identical, engineered produce and our ancestors' intimate knowledge of wild foods, we lost our connection to the plants that grow freely around us—the dandelions that support liver detoxification, the plantain that heals wounds, the clover blossoms that balance hormones. These "weeds" often contain higher concentrations of vitamins and minerals than their domesticated cousins, having evolved complex root systems and survival mechanisms that create deep nutrition. Learning to see food in the wild—even if it's just the herbs on your windowsill or the farmers market stalls overflowing with unfamiliar greens—awakens something primal and joyful in your relationship with nourishment. It reminds you that real food grows from soil, not factories.
Chapter 5: The Wild Kitchen
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
We Don't Have to Eat Like We're in Captivity
Here's something that blew my mind when I started paying attention: we don't have to eat like we're in captivity.
Walk through any modern grocery store and you'll see the evidence of our domestication. Row upon row of identical vegetables, bred for size and shelf life rather than nutrition, grown in depleted soil and shipped thousands of miles from their origin. The tomatoes are perfectly round and uniformly red, but they taste like water. The spinach leaves are pristine and uniform, but they contain a fraction of the nutrients their wild ancestors possessed.
Somewhere between these sterile aisles of engineered produce and our ancestors' intimate knowledge of wild foods, we lost our connection to the plants that grow freely around us. The dandelions that support liver detoxification. The plantain that heals wounds. The clover blossoms that balance hormones. The wild garlic that fights infection.
These "weeds" that we spray and mow and curse often contain higher concentrations of vitamins and minerals than their domesticated cousins. A wild dandelion green can contain 40 times more nutrients than iceberg lettuce, yet we treat one as a pest and the other as food.
But here's what excites me most: this isn't about restriction. This is about expansion. This is about discovering that what you thought was "all the food available" was actually just a tiny, processed fraction of the incredible diversity the natural world offers.
The Science of Plant Stress: Why "Weeds" Are Superfoods
Here's where the science gets fascinating and validates what our ancestors knew intuitively: plants that face stress produce more phytochemicals—the compounds that make them medicine for us.
The Phytochemical Defense System
Phytochemicals are compounds that plants develop to protect themselves. When a plant has to withstand insect attacks, weather extremes, or competition for resources, it upregulates its internal defense mechanisms. These protective compounds—polyphenols, flavonoids, carotenoids, sulfur compounds—become concentrated in the plant tissue.
When we consume these stressed plants, something remarkable happens: these compounds have a mild level of "toxicity" to us, but not enough to cause harm. Instead, they trigger our own protective mechanisms without damaging us. It's called hormesis—beneficial stress that makes us stronger.
Think about it: why does lifting weights make muscles stronger? Because you're stressing the muscle, actually tearing down some fibers. In response to that stress, your body repairs and builds back a little bit more. Do this consistently, and your body thinks, "Well, if we're going to do this every day, I better compensate." It upregulates blood vessels for more oxygen, tells DNA to produce more mitochondria for energy production, builds stronger muscle fibers.
The same principle applies to phytochemicals. When you eat that bitter dandelion or peppery wild garlic, those compounds are essentially giving your cells a beneficial workout, triggering antioxidant production, supporting detoxification pathways, and strengthening your body's natural defense systems.
The Organic Advantage: It's Not Just About Vitamins
Here's what surprised me when I dove into the research: organically grown plants haven't shown dramatically higher vitamin levels compared to conventionally grown ones. But they do have significantly higher levels of phytochemicals.
Why? Because organic plants have to withstand some environmental pressures that conventionally grown plants are shielded from. They have to produce their own pest-defense compounds instead of relying on chemical pesticides. They have to compete for nutrients instead of being force-fed synthetic fertilizers. This beneficial stress creates phenolic compounds in higher concentrations.
If a plant is grown in a stress-free environment with pesticides and chemicals doing all the protective work, it's not going to produce the amount of these important phytochemicals. It's like having a bodyguard do all your fighting for you—you never develop your own strength.
The Wild Advantage: Maximum Beneficial Stress
This is why wild plants are nutritional powerhouses compared to their domesticated cousins:
Wild dandelion produces higher concentrations of sesquiterpene lactones (the bitter compounds that support liver function) because it has to survive in challenging conditions
Wild garlic contains more allicin and sulfur compounds because it must defend against soil pathogens and competing plants
Plantain develops stronger anti-inflammatory compounds because it grows in areas where it's constantly being stepped on and must heal itself
Lamb's quarters produces more oxalic acid and saponins because it has to compete aggressively for resources
These aren't defects—they're features. The very compounds that make wild plants taste stronger and more bitter are often the ones providing the most therapeutic benefit.
The Color Code: Different Plants, Different Medicine
People often ask me about the latest superfood trends—kale, broccoli, turmeric. But here's the thing: you can get massive amounts of diverse phytonutrients every single day, three times a day, if you just think about the variety of plants you're putting in your mouth.
Kale, broccoli, and spinach are all green, but they have completely different phytonutrient profiles:
Kale provides glucosinolates that support detoxification
Broccoli offers sulforaphane for cellular protection
Spinach delivers lutein and zeaxanthin for eye health
The diversity is really important. You can't just eat one "superfood" and expect to get all the benefits. Your body needs the full spectrum of plant compounds, which means eating the rainbow—and beyond the rainbow, into the wild greens that don't fit neat color categories.
My Biggest Point: Start With Greens
Let me be straight with you: my biggest point to drive home is to get you to eat more veggies first and foremost. Even if there is ONE thing you pick up out of any of my words, if it's to get a handful of greens onto your plate EVERY day, that is a wild success.
Major success #2 is eating a bright color veggie on top of the greens every day.
And honestly? If you do all three of these things together, you're going to see results so fast it'll make your head spin:
Daily greens (non-negotiable)
Rainbow vegetables for different phytochemicals
Oil revolution - throw out the canola oil and replace with avocado oil, olive oil, coconut oil, or grass-fed butter
I don't have the patience to wait six months to see if something works. I need to feel results quickly, or I lose motivation. So here's my philosophy: hit it hard, break off the band-aid, and clear out everything at once. You can swap one thing out at a time, but you'll be pulled by the triggers of everyday life.
The Hungry Caterpillar Wisdom
I like to tell my son the story of the hungry caterpillar. After the little guy eats up all the bad foods, he needs a leaf to feel better. Just a green smoothie every day is a great way to hide some greens behind some chocolate protein powder and good fruits and nut milks.
Your body becomes your teacher when you start paying attention. When I eat sugar now, I immediately get a headache. I think this is a blessing. I cannot over-consume something, even if I want a bite of it. You can have bites, mess-ups, but see what it feels like, so you have the motivation to keep this up for good.
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
This soup is an invitation to expand your definition of food, to see abundance where you once saw weeds, to reconnect with the wild wisdom that grows all around us.
Note: If you're new to foraging, start with easily identifiable plants from reputable sources, farmers markets, or your own garden. Never eat anything you can't identify with 100% certainty.
The Foundation
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced (chop it first and let it sit 10 minutes to activate!)
2 carrots, diced
2 celery stalks, diced
6 cups vegetable or bone broth
1 can diced tomatoes (no sugar added)
1 cup cooked white beans
1/2 cup small pasta (optional)
The Wild Greens (use any combination available)
2 cups dandelion greens, chopped
1 cup wild spinach or lamb's quarters
1/2 cup plantain leaves, chopped
1/4 cup violet leaves
2 tablespoons wild garlic or garlic scapes
1/4 cup fresh herbs (wild or cultivated): thyme, oregano, sage
The Finishing Touches
Sea salt and black pepper to taste
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
The Transformation
Building the Base: Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, carrots, and celery, cooking until they begin to soften and release their aromatic compounds.
Creating the Broth: Add the vegetable or bone broth, diced tomatoes, and white beans. Bring to a simmer and let cook for 15 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld. If using pasta, add it now and cook according to package directions.
Introducing the Wild: Start with the heartier wild greens—dandelion and lamb's quarters—adding them to the simmering soup and cooking for 5 minutes until wilted. The bitterness of dandelion might surprise you at first, but embrace it as your body's cue that it's receiving powerful medicine.
The Delicate Finish: Add the more delicate wild greens—plantain, violet leaves, wild garlic—in the last 2-3 minutes of cooking. Don't burn it! Season with salt and pepper.
The Final Grace: Remove from heat and stir in fresh lemon juice and grated Parmesan. The acid brightens the earthy flavors of wild greens, while the cheese adds richness. Serve immediately, drizzled with good olive oil.
The Zoo Effect: What Captivity Does to All Living Things
Here's a study that stopped me in my tracks: researchers compared the microbiomes of animals in the wild versus those in zoos. The results were shocking. Zoo animals had abominable, terrible microbiomes and lived much shorter lives than their wild counterparts. Much of it had to do with the microbiomes being completely destroyed by their captive environment.
But here's the kicker—one study on poisonous tree frogs found that in the zoo, they lose their potency. They literally become less poisonous. The researchers realized it was because the frogs were no longer eating the specific fungus they consumed in the wild. There's so much we cannot recreate because we're just noticing these connections way down the line.
We are essentially putting ourselves in the zoo, paying to do so, and living less long and less vitally. We strip down grains and fortify them, assuming we can inject dead nutrients back in. We take a healthy thing like broccoli, isolate and process it down to a powder, and expect to get the same benefit. We eat like crap and hope a vitamin makes up the difference.
Studies on animals in captivity show major health issues when taken from the wild and given stripped-down diets. The same is happening to us humans—we are putting ourselves into captivity and isolating our microbiome to whatever it can pull from our McDonald's nuggets and rum-and-coke habits.
Looking deeper at our microbiomes as living creatures, our gut bugs flourish in the wild and suffer in isolation. It may not happen overnight, but it definitely begins to show over years, and especially over generations. We can start to see what our captivity is doing to us, and how easy it would be to fix. All it takes is choosing a different grocery store, picking up different items on the shelves to go from a suffering gut to a flourishing one.
Instead of thinking about what your confused taste buds want for lunch, think about what your gut is asking for.
The Liberation Practice
As you expand your definition of food to include the wild plants around you, something profound shifts. You begin to see abundance where you once saw emptiness. You recognize that the earth is constantly offering nourishment, that food doesn't require industrial agriculture or global shipping networks.
Your kitchen transforms from a place of restriction to a laboratory of possibility. When you focus on what you can add rather than what you're removing, every meal becomes an experiment in flavor, nutrition, and satisfaction.
This minestrone soup becomes more than a meal—it becomes a practice of expansion, of saying "yes" to flavors and nutrients you didn't know were available to you. Every spoonful introduces your palate to new possibilities, connects you to plants that have been nourishing humans for millennia but somehow fell out of your personal food vocabulary.
You're not giving up foods—you're adding foods. You're not restricting choices—you're expanding them beyond what any supermarket aisle could contain. You're not limiting your diet—you're unlimiting it to include the vast pharmacy and pantry of the natural world.
The goal isn't to feel deprived but to feel abundant, to discover that real variety comes not from 47 different flavors of processed snacks, but from learning to work with the incredible diversity of actual foods that grow from soil and trees and vines.
The Urban Forager
You don't need to live in the wilderness to connect with wild foods. Even city dwellers can begin to see food growing freely around them. Start small. Learn to identify one wild edible plant in your area. Taste it. Understand its flavor profile and nutritional benefits. Then gradually expand your wild plant vocabulary.
Farmers markets increasingly feature vendors selling foraged foods and wild greens. Specialty stores often carry cultivated versions of wild plants. Your own yard probably contains more edible plants than you realize—dandelion, plantain, clover, and violets are common in most temperate regions.
We Can Remember
Here's what gives me hope: this knowledge isn't lost—it's just been waiting for us to remember. Every indigenous elder who remembers, every herbalist who preserved the plant wisdom, every gardener who saves seeds, every person who chooses to learn the names of the plants growing around them is keeping this knowledge alive.
We can create food security, community resilience, and biological foundations for health that will serve generations. We can remember what it means to live in partnership with the earth rather than dominance over it.
Learning to see food in the wild—even if it's just the herbs on your windowsill or the farmers market stalls overflowing with unfamiliar greens—awakens something primal and joyful in your relationship with nourishment. It reminds you that real food grows from soil, not factories, and that the earth is constantly offering abundance to those who know how to look.
This soup is your invitation to step outside the captivity of convenience and into the wild abundance that has been waiting for you all along. If you can pull something from your garden, anything, this adds a potent image in your minds of your freedom from control.
There's something profound that happens when you walk outside and pick your own food. Even if it's just a handful of herbs from a windowsill pot or a few leaves of kale from a backyard garden. That simple act—reaching down, selecting what looks good, harvesting what you need—breaks the spell of dependence on the industrial food system.
You're no longer a consumer waiting for someone else to decide what's available on the shelf. You're not limited to what survived shipping, what was picked before it was ripe, what was bred for appearance over nutrition. You become the one making the choices about what goes into your body.
Even something as small as growing your own mint or basil creates this powerful shift in your relationship with food. Suddenly you're connected to the seasons, to the soil, to the simple miracle of a seed becoming something that can nourish you. You start to understand that food is meant to be alive, not processed into submission.
——
### The Science of Plant Stress: Why "Weeds" Are Superfoods
Here's where the science gets fascinating and validates what our ancestors knew intuitively: plants that face stress produce more phytochemicals—the compounds that make them medicine for us.
**The Phytochemical Defense System**
Phytochemicals are compounds that plants develop to protect themselves. When a plant has to withstand insect attacks, weather extremes, or competition for resources, it upregulates its internal defense mechanisms. These protective compounds—polyphenols, flavonoids, carotenoids, sulfur compounds—become concentrated in the plant tissue.
When we consume these stressed plants, something remarkable happens: these compounds have a mild level of "toxicity" to us, but not enough to cause harm. Instead, they trigger our own protective mechanisms without damaging us. It's called hormesis—beneficial stress that makes us stronger.
Think about exercise. Why does lifting weights make muscles stronger? Because you're stressing the muscle, actually tearing down some fibers. In response to that stress, your body repairs and builds back a little bit more. Do this consistently, and your body thinks, "Well, if we're going to do this every day, I better compensate." It upregulates blood vessels for more oxygen, tells DNA to produce more mitochondria for energy production, builds stronger muscle fibers.
The same principle applies to phytochemicals. When you eat that bitter dandelion or peppery wild garlic, those compounds are essentially giving your cells a beneficial workout, triggering antioxidant production, supporting detoxification pathways, and strengthening your body's natural defense systems.
**The Organic Advantage: It's Not Just About Vitamins**
Here's what surprised me when I dove into the research: organically grown plants haven't shown dramatically higher vitamin levels compared to conventionally grown ones. But they do have significantly higher levels of phytochemicals.
Why? Because organic plants have to withstand some environmental pressures that conventionally grown plants are shielded from. They have to produce their own pest-defense compounds instead of relying on chemical pesticides. They have to compete for nutrients instead of being force-fed synthetic fertilizers. This beneficial stress creates phenolic compounds in higher concentrations.
If a plant is grown in a stress-free environment with pesticides and chemicals doing all the protective work, it's not going to produce the amount of these important phytochemicals. It's like having a bodyguard do all your fighting for you—you never develop your own strength.
**The Wild Advantage: Maximum Beneficial Stress**
This is why wild plants are nutritional powerhouses compared to their domesticated cousins:
**Wild dandelion** produces higher concentrations of sesquiterpene lactones (the bitter compounds that support liver function) because it has to survive in challenging conditions
**Wild garlic** contains more allicin and sulfur compounds because it must defend against soil pathogens and competing plants
**Plantain** develops stronger anti-inflammatory compounds because it grows in areas where it's constantly being stepped on and must heal itself
**Lamb's quarters** produces more oxalic acid and saponins because it has to compete aggressively for resources
These aren't defects—they're features. The very compounds that make wild plants taste stronger and more bitter are often the ones providing the most therapeutic benefit.
**The Color Code: Different Plants, Different Medicine**
People often ask me about the latest superfood trends—kale, broccoli, turmeric. But here's the thing: you can get massive amounts of diverse phytonutrients every single day, three times a day, if you just think about the variety of plants you're putting in your mouth.
Kale, broccoli, and spinach are all green, but they have completely different phytonutrient profiles:
**Kale** provides glucosinolates that support detoxification
**Broccoli** offers sulforaphane for cellular protection
**Spinach** delivers lutein and zeaxanthin for eye health
The diversity is really important. You can't just eat one "superfood" and expect to get all the benefits. Your body needs the full spectrum of plant compounds, which means eating the rainbow—and beyond the rainbow, into the wild greens that don't fit neat color categories.
**The Inflammation Connection**
The inflammatory response is essential as a species—we never would have survived without it. So inflammation isn't universally bad. But most of us are confronted with chronic low-level inflammation all the time, sometimes even below the threshold for us to detect or feel it.
This is where phytochemicals become crucial. They help modulate inflammation, keeping the beneficial acute responses while dampening the harmful chronic inflammation that leads to aging and disease.
When you eat a variety of wild and stressed plants, you're essentially giving your body a toolkit for managing inflammation. Different compounds work through different pathways:
**Polyphenols** from berries and dark greens neutralize free radicals
**Sulfur compounds** from wild garlic and onion family plants support detoxification
**Bitter compounds** from dandelion and other wild greens stimulate digestive function
**Carotenoids** from orange and red plants protect against cellular damage
**The Anti-Aging Medicine Chest**
What is aging, really? Would you rather live to 70 with every single day of awesome health, or live to 90 with 20 years of chronic diseases?
Understanding aging means looking at how to move into the later stages of life with optimal quality—feeling good and minimally impeded by the natural aging that occurs. Phytochemicals are one of our most powerful tools for this.
The compounds in wild plants directly address the mechanisms of aging:
**Cellular damage** from free radicals—countered by antioxidant compounds
**Inflammation** that accelerates aging—modulated by anti-inflammatory phytochemicals
**Detoxification** system overload—supported by bitter compounds and sulfur-containing plants
**Cardiovascular** decline—protected by flavonoids and polyphenols
**Cognitive** decline—slowed by compounds that cross the blood-brain barrier
**The Stress Paradox: Why Easy Isn't Always Better**
This understanding completely flips our modern approach to comfort and convenience. We've created a world where we try to eliminate all stress—from our plants, from our lives, from our bodies. But some stress is not just beneficial—it's necessary for optimal function.
Plants that have never been stressed produce weak medicine. Bodies that have never been challenged become fragile. Minds that have never grappled with difficulty become brittle.
The key is the right kind and amount of stress. Too little, and there's no growth. Too much, and there's damage. But that sweet spot of beneficial stress—hormesis—is where magic happens.
This is why:
- Wild plants are more nutritious than pampered greenhouse vegetables
- Exercise makes us stronger rather than weaker
- Intermittent fasting can improve metabolic health
- Cold exposure can boost immune function
- Mental challenges can prevent cognitive decline
**Accessing Wild Phytochemicals Today**
You don't need to forage in remote forests to access these powerful compounds. You can start incorporating beneficial plant stress into your diet right now:
Chapter 5: The Wild Kitchen
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
"We don't have to eat like we're in captivity."
Beyond the Prison of Convenience
We don't have to eat like we're in captivity.
Walk through any modern grocery store and you'll see the evidence of our domestication: row upon row of identical vegetables, bred for size and shelf life rather than nutrition, grown in depleted soil and shipped thousands of miles from their origin. The tomatoes are perfectly round and uniformly red, but they taste like water. The spinach leaves are pristine and uniform, but they contain a fraction of the nutrients their wild ancestors possessed.
Somewhere between these sterile aisles of engineered produce and our ancestors' intimate knowledge of wild foods, we lost our connection to the plants that grow freely around us—the dandelions that support liver detoxification, the plantain that heals wounds, the clover blossoms that balance hormones, the wild garlic that fights infection.
These "weeds" that we spray and mow and curse often contain higher concentrations of vitamins and minerals than their domesticated cousins, having evolved complex root systems and survival mechanisms that create deep nutrition. A wild dandelion green can contain 40 times more nutrients than iceberg lettuce, yet we treat one as a pest and the other as food.
But here's what excites me most: this isn't about restriction. This is about expansion. This is about discovering that what you thought was "all the food available" was actually just a tiny, processed fraction of the incredible diversity the natural world offers.
The Forgotten Pharmacy
Your grandmother's grandmother didn't shop for groceries—she shopped in fields and forests, along riverbanks and in meadows. She knew which plants would soothe a cough, which leaves would heal a cut, which roots would support her through a long winter.
This wasn't primitive ignorance—it was sophisticated knowledge, passed down through generations of careful observation and experimentation. Traditional cultures identified thousands of edible and medicinal plants, understanding not just what was safe to eat but what would optimize health and vitality.
They knew that the bitter greens of early spring would help their bodies detoxify after a winter of stored foods. They understood that the rose hips of late fall would provide vitamin C to prevent scurvy through the cold months. They recognized that different plants had different energetic qualities—some cooling and calming, others warming and stimulating.
We've traded this vast pharmacopeia for a handful of domesticated crops, then wondered why we need so many supplements to maintain basic health.
My Journey Into Lost Wisdom
I got into the herb game from the nutrition standpoint. I was obsessing over podcasts about food and saw many guest speakers who spoke of the power of plants. Eventually I started watching some of them star in their own shows—The Sacred Science was one of my favorites. I started studying herbs like the medicine they are.
I took local herb classes and earned my community herbalist certification from a local herb school in Sebastopol. But what struck me most wasn't just the freedom these people had—it was the scientific wisdom I discovered in what we'd dismissed as "peasant knowledge" or "women's intuition."
I learned about people like Juliette of the Herbs, who was trained as a royal veterinarian but chose to learn from the peasants because she recognized they had the real medicine. We learn about the wisdom of natives and women who passed down knowledge seen as unimportant—like controlled burning that we now desperately need, sustainable living practices we're scrambling to rediscover.
I learned that women in America used to use moss as diapers and period pads—a plant 10 times more absorbent than paper. I learned that hemp, which was used to write the Declaration of Independence, was put on the chopping block because the politically rich Hearst family of publishers wanted paper to be profitable, so hemp was associated with marijuana and banned. Essential plants disappeared from daily life not because they didn't work, but because they couldn't be monopolized.
I learned that something as simple as braiding sweetgrass baskets required generational wisdom of training and working with trees to grow straight, long sticks for everything needed in daily life. Daily life that didn't always have to be so hard.
Benjamin Franklin wrote about Americans running off to live like natives, but never the other way around. There was this persistent misunderstanding that ancient meant primitive, followed by the systematic overtaking of knowledge once it was recognized as valuable—while discarding and dishonoring the source.
I learned about the wisdom in natural cycles, like the female connection to the moon and male connection to the sun, because of our differences in hormones and energy patterns. I learned that everything from the earth is medicine, a gift. That every bite is a sacrifice of life that deserves reverence.
The more I studied, the more I understood that this wasn't just lost knowledge—it was systematically suppressed knowledge. The burning of the "witches" was partly a money and knowledge grab from women who lived independently. Indigenous peoples were forced into schools that forbade their languages and healing practices. Ancient wisdom was rebranded as "primitive" to justify its replacement with systems that could be controlled and monetized.
But there was always a whole group of women and men who never gave in, who preserved this knowledge underground, waiting for a time when the world would be ready to remember.
The point is: we must follow our passions, and this was a solid step in a new direction that led to lifelong interests I never could have imagined—and a deep respect for the scientific sophistication of knowledge that had been hidden in plain sight.
The Nutrient Concentration of the Wild
Wild plants face challenges that domesticated ones never encounter. They must compete for resources, defend against pests and diseases, and survive weather extremes without human intervention. These stresses, which would kill pampered garden plants, actually make wild plants more nutritious.
Plants grow stronger in the wind—their natural compounds and defensive systems creating better medicine for us. When a plant has to send roots deep into the earth to find water and minerals, those roots bring up trace elements that surface-feeding crops never access. When a plant has to produce its own pest-defense compounds, it creates phytochemicals that also benefit human health. When a plant has to survive temperature fluctuations and seasonal changes, it develops adaptive compounds that support resilience.
The numbers are striking:
Wild garlic contains higher concentrations of allicin and sulfur compounds than cultivated garlic
Dandelion greens have more beta-carotene, iron, and calcium than most cultivated greens
Wild berries typically contain higher antioxidant levels than their domesticated counterparts
Lamb's quarters (a common "weed") contains more protein, calcium, and vitamin A than spinach
I dream of one day having a cute little cottage with wild herbs carefully tended around my house, knowing each plant intimately, picking herbs as needed for food and medicine. We can make our own medicine. We can remember what it means to live in partnership with the land rather than dominion over it.
The Liberation Practice
As you expand your definition of food to include the wild plants around you, something profound shifts. You begin to see abundance where you once saw emptiness. You recognize that the earth is constantly offering nourishment, that food doesn't require industrial agriculture or global shipping networks.
Your kitchen transforms from a place of restriction to a laboratory of possibility. When you focus on what you can add rather than what you're removing, every meal becomes an experiment in flavor, nutrition, and satisfaction.
You might discover that:
Massaged kale tastes completely different from raw kale
Roasted vegetables develop sweetness you never noticed
Fresh herbs can make simple ingredients taste like gourmet meals
There are dozens of varieties of each vegetable you thought you knew
Many vegetables can be eaten raw when they're fresh and high-quality
Simple cooking techniques can transform inexpensive ingredients into deeply satisfying meals
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
This soup is an invitation to expand your definition of food, to see abundance where you once saw weeds, to reconnect with the wild wisdom that grows all around us.
Note: If you're new to foraging, start with easily identifiable plants from reputable sources, farmers markets, or your own garden. Never eat anything you can't identify with 100% certainty.
The Foundation:
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 carrots, diced
2 celery stalks, diced
6 cups vegetable or bone broth
1 can diced tomatoes (no sugar added)
1 cup cooked white beans
1/2 cup small pasta (optional)
The Wild Greens (use any combination available):
2 cups dandelion greens, chopped
1 cup wild spinach or lamb's quarters
1/2 cup plantain leaves, chopped
1/4 cup violet leaves
2 tablespoons wild garlic or garlic scapes
1/4 cup fresh herbs (wild or cultivated): thyme, oregano, sage
The Finishing Touches:
Sea salt and black pepper to taste
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
The Transformation:
Building the Base
Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, carrots, and celery, cooking until they begin to soften and release their aromatic compounds.
This foundation of familiar aromatics creates the backdrop for the wild flavors to come—comforting tastes that will help your palate adjust to the more intense flavors of wild greens.
Creating the Broth
Add the vegetable or bone broth, diced tomatoes, and white beans. Bring to a simmer and let cook for 15 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld and the vegetables to become tender.
If using pasta, add it now and cook according to package directions until al dente.
Introducing the Wild
This is where the magic happens. Start with the heartier wild greens—dandelion and lamb's quarters—adding them to the simmering soup and cooking for 5 minutes until they're wilted and tender.
The bitterness of dandelion might surprise you at first, but it's this very bitterness that stimulates digestion and supports liver function. Don't fight it—embrace it as your body's cue that it's receiving powerful medicine.
The Delicate Finish
Add the more delicate wild greens—plantain, violet leaves, wild garlic—in the last 2-3 minutes of cooking. These tender leaves need only brief cooking to become edible while retaining their nutritional potency.
Season with salt and pepper, remembering that wild greens often have more complex, intense flavors than their domesticated cousins, so you may need less seasoning than usual.
The Final Grace
Remove from heat and stir in fresh lemon juice and grated Parmesan. The acid brightens the earthy, sometimes bitter flavors of wild greens, while the cheese adds richness and makes the nutrients more bioavailable.
Serve immediately, drizzled with good olive oil and perhaps a sprinkle of fresh herbs.
The Taste of Freedom
Your first spoonful of this soup might challenge your palate. Wild greens taste... wild. They're more intense, more complex, sometimes more bitter than the mild, sweet vegetables we've grown accustomed to.
This intensity isn't a flaw—it's a feature. The compounds that make wild plants taste strong are often the same ones that provide medicinal benefits. The bitterness in dandelion stimulates bile production and supports liver detoxification. The peppery bite of wild garlic provides antimicrobial compounds. The slight astringency of plantain offers anti-inflammatory benefits.
Learning to appreciate these flavors is like developing a taste for fine wine or dark chocolate—it requires shifting from seeking immediate gratification to appreciating complexity and depth.
The Urban Forager
You don't need to live in the wilderness to connect with wild foods. Even city dwellers can begin to see food growing freely around them:
Urban opportunities:
Vacant lots often harbor edible "weeds" like lamb's quarters, purslane, and dandelion
Parks and green spaces may contain edible plants (always check local regulations)
Your own yard probably contains more edible plants than you realize—dandelion, plantain, clover, and violets are common in most temperate regions
Community gardens often welcome plants that grow without cultivation
Farmers markets increasingly feature vendors selling foraged foods and wild greens
Specialty stores and co-ops often carry cultivated versions of wild plants
Start small. Learn to identify one wild edible plant in your area. Taste it. Understand its flavor profile and nutritional benefits. Then gradually expand your wild plant vocabulary.
The Sustainable Paradise We Lost
I learned that rainforests may have once been tended gardens, each plant chosen with purpose and love. Indigenous peoples didn't just live off the land—they lived with the land, understanding that true abundance comes from working in partnership with natural systems rather than fighting against them.
The natives of Hawaii had it figured out: they sliced their land into pie slices, each community with sustainable access from the fresh streams of the mountain tops down to the ocean floor. Each family had access to fresh water, fertile soil, fishing grounds, and wild foods. They were completely self-sufficient, thriving on 100-pound canoes, so happy on the waves that Captain Cook's sailors wrote in wonder about these people who seemed to live in paradise.
Then the colonizers came through and mono-cropped everything. They would not let the natives dance their sacred dances—restrictions that still exist on some islands like Maui where you cannot dance traditional dances in public. All because of the identity that comes from music and dance and celebrations and native foods. When you control people's connection to their land, their food, their cultural practices, you control their bodies and their spirits.
The same pattern played out with the Havasupai people in Arizona. For thousands of years, they migrated with the land, eating seasonally, following natural abundance through the canyon systems. They're still the only place in the US to get mail daily by mule through the canyon—that's how remote and self-sufficient they were.
For 100 years, they were confined to a square mile and made reliant on the American food system and food welfare. Now they have some of the worst rates of diabetes in the country. They now have their land back, but who listens to their grandparents' advice on how to forage through the wild if they were never taught?
This is a perfect example of how Americans thought their way was better—how everyone eating our diet would turn out, and are turning out. We took peoples who lived in perfect health and abundance and gave them diabetes, depression, and dependency. We called it civilization.
The Reverence Practice
When you incorporate wild plants into your cooking, your kitchen becomes a sacred space where food and medicine converge. Each plant brings not just therapeutic compounds, but a story of resilience, adaptation, and gifts freely given.
Dandelion supports liver function and provides potassium for healthy blood pressure—a whole pharmacy growing freely in suburban lawns
Plantain offers anti-inflammatory compounds and has been called "nature's bandaid"—healing medicine literally growing underfoot
Wild garlic provides antimicrobial compounds and supports cardiovascular health—protection growing wild in forest floors
Violet leaves are rich in vitamins A and C with anti-inflammatory properties—delicate beauty offering strength
Lamb's quarters provides more nutrition per serving than spinach—abundance disguised as a weed
This isn't about replacing medical care—it's about remembering that the line between food and medicine is artificial, a modern invention. For most of human history, they were the same thing. Every bite was understood as a sacrifice of life that deserved reverence and gratitude.
The indigenous understanding that everything from the earth is medicine, a gift, transforms how we approach even the simplest meal. When you understand that a plant gave its life to nourish yours, when you recognize the generations of wisdom that identified which plants heal and which harm, eating becomes a practice of connection rather than consumption.
The Seasonal Wisdom
Wild plants follow natural rhythms that our domesticated crops have largely lost. Learning to eat seasonally with wild plants reconnects you to these ancient cycles:
Spring brings bitter greens that help your body detoxify after winter—dandelion, wild garlic, violet leaves, early plantain
Summer offers an abundance of wild fruits and seeds—elderberries, wild raspberries, lamb's quarters in full growth
Fall provides nuts, late berries, and root vegetables that help your body prepare for winter
Winter might seem barren, but evergreen needles (like pine or spruce) provide vitamin C, and stored or preserved wild foods sustain you through the lean months
Starting Your Wild Practice
Begin with curiosity rather than consumption:
Observe: Notice the plants growing around you. How many can you identify? Which ones have you been calling "weeds"?
Research: Learn about the edible and medicinal plants native to your region. Start with the most common and easily identified ones.
Taste: Try one new wild green from a farmers market or specialty store each month. Notice how it tastes different from domesticated vegetables.
Grow: Plant some "wild" varieties in your garden—heritage tomatoes, wild lettuce, medicinal herbs.
Connect: Find local foraging groups, herbalists, or indigenous plant knowledge keepers who can teach you about your local flora.
The Expansion Revolution
This minestrone soup becomes more than a meal—it becomes a practice of expansion, of saying "yes" to flavors and nutrients you didn't know were available to you. Every spoonful introduces your palate to new possibilities, connects you to plants that have been nourishing humans for millennia but somehow fell out of your personal food vocabulary.
You're not giving up foods—you're adding foods. You're not restricting choices—you're expanding them beyond what any supermarket aisle could contain. You're not limiting your diet—you're unlimited it to include the vast pharmacy and pantry of the natural world.
The goal isn't to feel deprived but to feel abundant, to discover that real variety comes not from 47 different flavors of processed snacks, but from learning to work with the incredible diversity of actual foods that grow from soil and trees and vines, foods that change with the seasons, foods that connect you to the earth and to your own vitality.
We Can Remember
But here's what gives me hope: this work connects to something powerful in our recent history too. During World War II, victory gardens in America literally fed a significant portion of the population. In 1942, roughly 15 million families planted victory gardens; by 1944, an estimated 20 million victory gardens produced roughly 8 million tons of food—which was the equivalent of more than 40 percent of all the fresh fruits and vegetables consumed in the United States.
Forty percent! Nearly half of all fresh produce in America came from backyard gardens, community plots, and even window boxes in apartment buildings.
If Americans could feed themselves this effectively in the 1940s with far less technology and resources than we have today, we can absolutely do this now. If indigenous peoples could live in abundance for thousands of years without destroying their environment, we can learn to do the same.
The knowledge isn't lost—it's just been suppressed. Every indigenous elder who remembers, every herbalist who preserved the plant wisdom, every gardener who saves seeds, every person who chooses to learn the names of the plants growing around them is keeping this knowledge alive.
We can create food security, community resilience, and biological foundations for health that will serve generations. We can remember what it means to live in partnership with the earth rather than dominance over it.
Learning to see food in the wild—even if it's just the herbs on your windowsill or the farmers market stalls overflowing with unfamiliar greens—awakens something primal and joyful in your relationship with nourishment. It reminds you that real food grows from soil, not factories, and that the earth is constantly offering abundance to those who know how to look.
This soup is your invitation to step outside the captivity of convenience and into the wild abundance that has been waiting for you all along.
Chapter 5: The Wild Kitchen
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
Beyond the Captivity of Convenience
We don't have to eat like we're in captivity.
Walk through any modern grocery store and you'll see the evidence of our domestication: row upon row of identical vegetables, bred for size and shelf life rather than nutrition, grown in depleted soil and shipped thousands of miles from their origin. The tomatoes are perfectly round and uniformly red, but they taste like water. The spinach leaves are pristine and uniform, but they contain a fraction of the nutrients their wild ancestors possessed.
Somewhere between these sterile aisles of engineered produce and our ancestors' intimate knowledge of wild foods, we lost our connection to the plants that grow freely around us—the dandelions that support liver detoxification, the plantain that heals wounds, the clover blossoms that balance hormones, the wild garlic that fights infection.
These "weeds" that we spray and mow and curse often contain higher concentrations of vitamins and minerals than their domesticated cousins, having evolved complex root systems and survival mechanisms that create deep nutrition. A wild dandelion green can contain 40 times more nutrients than iceberg lettuce, yet we treat one as a pest and the other as food.
The Forgotten Pharmacy
Your grandmother's grandmother didn't shop for groceries—she shopped in fields and forests, along riverbanks and in meadows. She knew which plants would soothe a cough, which leaves would heal a cut, which roots would support her through a long winter.
This wasn't primitive ignorance—it was sophisticated knowledge, passed down through generations of careful observation and experimentation. Traditional cultures identified thousands of edible and medicinal plants, understanding not just what was safe to eat but what would optimize health and vitality.
They knew that the bitter greens of early spring would help their bodies detoxify after a winter of stored foods. They understood that the rose hips of late fall would provide vitamin C to prevent scurvy through the cold months. They recognized that different plants had different energetic qualities—some cooling and calming, others warming and stimulating.
We've traded this vast pharmacopeia for a handful of domesticated crops, then wondered why we need so many supplements to maintain basic health.
The Domestication Dilemma
When we domesticate plants, we change them. We breed them for traits that suit our convenience rather than their nutritional density. We select for:
Size: Bigger fruits and vegetables that look impressive but often contain more water and fewer nutrients per pound.
Sweetness: Reduced bitterness, which also reduces many of the beneficial compounds that give plants their medicinal properties.
Uniformity: Predictable appearance and harvest timing, which requires genetic narrowing that reduces diversity and resilience.
Shelf life: Ability to survive shipping and storage, often at the expense of delicate nutrients that degrade over time.
Easy cultivation: Dependence on fertilizers and pesticides rather than the natural disease resistance that wild plants develop.
The result is food that looks like food but lacks the complex nutritional profile that our bodies evolved to expect from plants.
The Nutrient Concentration
Wild plants face challenges that domesticated ones never encounter. They must compete for resources, defend against pests and diseases, and survive weather extremes without human intervention. These stresses, which would kill pampered garden plants, actually make wild plants more nutritious.
When a plant has to send roots deep into the earth to find water and minerals, those roots bring up trace elements that surface-feeding crops never access. When a plant has to produce its own pest-defense compounds, it creates phytochemicals that also benefit human health. When a plant has to survive temperature fluctuations and seasonal changes, it develops adaptive compounds that support resilience.
Wild garlic contains higher concentrations of allicin and other sulfur compounds than cultivated garlic.
Dandelion greens have more beta-carotene, iron, and calcium than most cultivated greens.
Wild berries typically contain higher antioxidant levels than their domesticated counterparts.
Lamb's quarters (a common "weed") contains more protein, calcium, and vitamin A than spinach.
Recipe 5: Foraged Green Minestrone
This soup is an invitation to expand your definition of food, to see abundance where you once saw weeds, to reconnect with the wild wisdom that grows all around us.
Note: If you're new to foraging, start with easily identifiable plants from reputable sources, farmers markets, or your own garden. Never eat anything you can't identify with 100% certainty.
The Wild Foundation
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 carrots, diced
2 celery stalks, diced
6 cups vegetable or bone broth
1 can diced tomatoes (no sugar added)
1 cup cooked white beans
1/2 cup small pasta (optional)
The Wild Greens (use any combination available)
2 cups dandelion greens, chopped
1 cup wild spinach or lamb's quarters
1/2 cup plantain leaves, chopped
1/4 cup violet leaves
2 tablespoons wild garlic or garlic scapes
1/4 cup fresh herbs (wild or cultivated): thyme, oregano, sage
The Finishing Touches
Sea salt and black pepper to taste
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
The Transformation
Building the Base Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, carrots, and celery, cooking until they begin to soften and release their aromatic compounds.
This foundation of aromatics creates the backdrop for the wild flavors to come—familiar tastes that will help your palate adjust to the more intense flavors of wild greens.
Creating the Broth Add the vegetable or bone broth, diced tomatoes, and white beans. Bring to a simmer and let cook for 15 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld and the vegetables to become tender.
If using pasta, add it now and cook according to package directions until al dente.
Introducing the Wild This is where the magic happens. Start with the heartier wild greens—dandelion and lamb's quarters—adding them to the simmering soup and cooking for 5 minutes until they're wilted and tender.
The bitterness of dandelion might surprise you at first, but it's this very bitterness that stimulates digestion and supports liver function. Don't fight it—embrace it as your body's cue that it's receiving powerful medicine.
The Delicate Finish Add the more delicate wild greens—plantain, violet leaves, wild garlic—in the last 2-3 minutes of cooking. These tender leaves need only brief cooking to become edible while retaining their nutritional potency.
Season with salt and pepper, remembering that wild greens often have more complex, intense flavors than their domesticated cousins, so you may need less seasoning than usual.
The Final Grace Remove from heat and stir in fresh lemon juice and grated Parmesan. The acid brightens the earthy, sometimes bitter flavors of wild greens, while the cheese adds richness and makes the nutrients more bioavailable.
Serve immediately, drizzled with good olive oil and perhaps a sprinkle of fresh herbs.
The Taste of Freedom
Your first spoonful of this soup might challenge your palate. Wild greens taste... wild. They're more intense, more complex, sometimes more bitter than the mild, sweet vegetables we've grown accustomed to.
This intensity isn't a flaw—it's a feature. The compounds that make wild plants taste strong are often the same ones that provide medicinal benefits. The bitterness in dandelion stimulates bile production and supports liver detoxification. The peppery bite of wild garlic provides antimicrobial compounds. The slight astringency of plantain offers anti-inflammatory benefits.
Learning to appreciate these flavors is like developing a taste for fine wine or dark chocolate—it requires shifting from seeking immediate gratification to appreciating complexity and depth.
The Urban Forager
You don't need to live in the wilderness to connect with wild foods. Even city dwellers can begin to see food growing freely around them:
Vacant lots often harbor edible "weeds" like lamb's quarters, purslane, and dandelion.
Parks and green spaces may contain edible plants (though always check local regulations about harvesting).
Your own yard probably contains more edible plants than you realize—dandelion, plantain, clover, and violets are common in most temperate regions.
Community gardens often welcome plants that grow without cultivation.
Farmers markets increasingly feature vendors selling foraged foods and wild greens.
Specialty stores and co-ops often carry cultivated versions of wild plants.
Start small. Learn to identify one wild edible plant in your area. Taste it. Understand its flavor profile and nutritional benefits. Then gradually expand your wild plant vocabulary.
The Seasonal Wisdom
Wild plants follow natural rhythms that our domesticated crops have largely lost. Learning to eat seasonally with wild plants reconnects you to these ancient cycles:
Spring brings bitter greens that help your body detoxify after winter—dandelion, wild garlic, violet leaves, early plantain.
Summer offers an abundance of wild fruits and seeds—elderberries, wild raspberries, lamb's quarters in full growth.
Fall provides nuts, late berries, and root vegetables that help your body prepare for winter.
Winter might seem barren, but evergreen needles (like pine or spruce) provide vitamin C, and stored or preserved wild foods sustain you through the lean months.
The Medicinal Kitchen
When you incorporate wild plants into your cooking, your kitchen becomes a pharmacy. Each plant brings its own therapeutic compounds:
Dandelion supports liver function and provides potassium for healthy blood pressure.
Plantain offers anti-inflammatory compounds and has been called "nature's bandaid" for its wound-healing properties.
Wild garlic provides antimicrobial compounds and supports cardiovascular health.
Violet leaves are rich in vitamins A and C and have anti-inflammatory properties.
Lamb's quarters provides more nutrition per serving than spinach, with high levels of protein, calcium, and vitamin A.
This isn't about replacing medical care—it's about understanding that the line between food and medicine is artificial. For most of human history, they were the same thing.
The Awakening Practice
Learning to see food in the wild—even if it's just the herbs on your windowsill or the farmers market stalls overflowing with unfamiliar greens—awakens something primal and joyful in your relationship with nourishment.
It reminds you that real food grows from soil, not factories. That nutrition comes from plants that have learned to thrive in challenging conditions, not from laboratories that add synthetic vitamins to processed products.
It connects you to the seasons, to your local ecosystem, to the ancient human practice of knowing your environment intimately enough to nourish yourself from it.
Starting Your Wild Practice
Begin with curiosity rather than consumption:
Observe: Notice the plants growing around you. How many can you identify? Which ones have you been calling "weeds"?
Research: Learn about the edible and medicinal plants native to your region. Start with the most common and easily identified ones.
Taste: Try one new wild green from a farmers market or specialty store each month. Notice how it tastes different from domesticated vegetables.
Grow: Plant some "wild" varieties in your garden—heritage tomatoes, wild lettuce, medicinal herbs.
Connect: Find local foraging groups, herbalists, or indigenous plant knowledge keepers who can teach you about your local flora.
You're absolutely right! Let me revise that perspective throughout the chapter to emphasize expansion rather than restriction:
The Liberation
As you expand your definition of food to include the wild plants around you, something profound shifts. You begin to see abundance where you once saw scarcity. You recognize that the earth is constantly offering nourishment, that there are thousands of edible plants you never knew existed, flavors you've never experienced, nutrients you've never accessed.
Rather than feeling deprived of your old foods, consider this as an expansion into foods you simply didn't know to trust and love yet. This isn't about a list of "no's"—no gluten, no sugar, no canola oil. This is about discovering the unlimited combinations possible when you shop the edges of the grocery store, when you explore the vegetable section with new eyes, when you consider what you could grow on a windowsill or in a backyard.
You start to understand that what you thought was "all the food available" was actually just a tiny, processed fraction of the incredible diversity the natural world offers. The grocery store's produce section, which you might have walked past quickly on your way to the packaged foods, suddenly becomes a treasure trove of possibilities.
Instead of missing bread, you discover the satisfying crunch of roasted root vegetables, the way cauliflower can become pizza crust, how sweet potato can be spiralized into noodles.
Instead of craving sugar, you awaken to the complex sweetness of roasted beets, the natural candy of slow-cooked onions, the surprising sweetness hiding in red bell peppers.
Instead of reaching for processed snacks, you find yourself experimenting with herb combinations you never knew existed, discovering that food can be medicine, that eating can be an adventure rather than a routine.
The Unlimited Kitchen
Your kitchen transforms from a place of restriction to a laboratory of possibility. When you focus on what you can add rather than what you're removing, every meal becomes an experiment in flavor, nutrition, and satisfaction.
You might discover that:
Massaged kale tastes completely different from raw kale
Roasted vegetables develop sweetness you never noticed
Fresh herbs can make simple ingredients taste like gourmet meals
There are dozens of varieties of each vegetable you thought you knew
Many vegetables can be eaten raw when they're fresh and high-quality
Simple cooking techniques can transform inexpensive ingredients into deeply satisfying meals
The Expansion Practice
This minestrone soup becomes more than a meal—it becomes a practice of expansion, of saying "yes" to flavors and nutrients you didn't know were available to you. Every spoonful introduces your palate to new possibilities, connects you to plants that have been nourishing humans for millennia but somehow fell out of your personal food vocabulary.
You're not giving up foods—you're adding foods. You're not restricting choices—you're expanding them beyond what any supermarket aisle could contain. You're not limiting your diet—you're unlimited it to include the vast pharmacy and pantry of the natural world.
The goal isn't to feel deprived but to feel abundant, to discover that real variety comes not from 47 different flavors of processed snacks, but from learning to work with the incredible diversity of actual foods that grow from soil and trees and vines, foods that change with the seasons, foods that connect you to the earth and to your own vitality.
The Liberation
As you expand your definition of food to include the wild plants around you, something profound shifts. You begin to see abundance where you once saw emptiness. You recognize that the earth is constantly offering nourishment, that food doesn't require industrial agriculture or global shipping networks.
You start to understand that the grocery store represents just a tiny fraction of the foods available to humans, and often not the most nutritious fraction.
This minestrone soup becomes more than a meal—it becomes a practice of liberation from the limited food choices that modern life presents as normal. Every spoonful connects you to the wild wisdom that sustained our ancestors and still grows freely around us, waiting to nourish anyone willing to look beyond the aisles of engineered produce to the abundant pharmacy of the natural world.
The earth is constantly offering nourishment to those who know how to look. Wild plants, growing freely without human intervention, often contain higher concentrations of nutrients than their domesticated cousins. Learning to see food in the wild awakens something primal in your relationship with nourishment—it reminds you that real food grows from soil, not factories.
The Environmental Connection
This work is also interconnected with environmental healing. When we eat real food, we support farming practices that build soil rather than deplete it, that work with natural ecosystems rather than against them. The same food choices that heal our bodies also heal the earth.
We've proven this is possible on a massive scale. During World War II, victory gardens in America literally fed a significant portion of the population. In 1942, roughly 15 million families planted victory gardens; by 1944, an estimated 20 million victory gardens produced roughly 8 million tons of food—which was the equivalent of more than 40 percent of all the fresh fruits and vegetables consumed in the United States.
Forty percent! Nearly half of all fresh produce in America came from backyard gardens, community plots, and even window boxes in apartment buildings. Some 20 million Victory Gardens were planted (US population in 1940 was 132 million), and by 1943, these little plots produced 40 percent of all vegetables consumed in the US.
If Americans could feed themselves this effectively in the 1940s with far less technology and resources than we have today, we can absolutely do this now. We can create food security, community resilience, and biological foundations for health that will serve generations.
We Can Do This
The infrastructure for change already exists. We have the knowledge, the resources, and the growing awareness that our current food system is failing us. What we need is the collective will to prioritize the health of our families and communities over the profits of corporations that see us as expendable profit centers.
Every victory garden planted, every meal made from real ingredients, every person educated about nutrition becomes part of a quiet revolution that has the power to transform public health, environmental sustainability, and economic justice all at once.
The question isn't whether we can create change—the question is whether we'll choose to start now, with our next meal, our next grocery list, our next conversation about what it means to truly nourish ourselves and our communities.
We Can Do This
The infrastructure for change already exists. We have the knowledge, the resources, and the growing awareness that our current food system is failing us. What we need is the collective will to prioritize the health of our families and communities over the profits of corporations that see us as expendable profit centers.
Every victory garden planted, every meal made from real ingredients, every person educated about nutrition becomes part of a quiet revolution that has the power to transform public health, environmental sustainability, and economic justice all at once.
The question isn't whether we can create change—the question is whether we'll choose to start now, with our next meal, our next grocery list, our next conversation about what it means to truly nourish ourselves and our communities.
I got into the herb game from the nutrition standpoint. I was obsessing over podcasts about food, and saw many guest speakers who spoke of the power of plants. Eventually i started watching some of them star in their own shows: the Sacred Science was one of my favorites. I started studying the herbs like the medicine they are. I took local herb classes, and earned my community herbalist badge from a local herb school in sebastapol. I was struck by the freedom these people had. it made me realize people living off the grid were extremely intelligent. They did not talk badly per se about things, they just saw the good in ancient ways- celebrating native traditions, and there was always a little sadness in what was lost, and a hope and beauty in shedding light on lost ways, lost words of the names of the herbs. this led me down a path wondering why we would have ever forgotten the power of the mushroom, and i started to read more on the history of this loss. It was not all accidental. The killing of the witches, for instance, was for a money and lab grab from women who lived on their own rather than needing to hide behind a man in society. There was a whole groups of women and men who never gave in. in the 70’s they brought psychedelic research back to the realm of science and not just fear and prohibition of study. i see the importance of native stories, and started making connections beyond them to the wider loss of this infromation, which is part of a separate book, still to come. We must follow our passions, and this was a solid step in a new direction that lead to some lifelone interests.