Wild onions. The name "Chicago" is derived from a French rendering of the Native American word shikaakwa, for the wild leeks, onions and garlic that grew abundantly in the area. The internet tells me the first known reference to the site of the current city of Chicago as "Checagou" was by Robert de LaSalle around 1679 in a memoir.
Nowadays, hot restaurants in the city hire urban scavengers to go find these tiny aromatic bulbs for discerning patrons. In fact, I've seen some concern expressed online that forest preserves might be crawling with illegal scavengers soon if we aren't a little more hush-hush about it and might decimate the species if left to their own devices.
All of which is to say, I'm sitting on a veritable gold mine because our acre is full of them.
For a long time I ignored them. And then I tried weeding them after I decided that I'd had enough of what looked like unmown grass all over my woods and garden. But goodness that is a life's work And then I thought I'd harvest them (they really are quite delectable). Now I just...surrender to them, mostly.
I think about those folks in Chicago, scrambling all over trying to find their tasty (if slightly stinky) origins, now lost to so much concrete and I smile.
One woman's garden bane is a restaurateur's prized ingredient. Who knew?
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