W. Ray Freden

GONE WILD –WILD FOOD PICKIN’ ! !  I’m going to share a few wild foods I love and look forward to every season.
The earliest, for me, is the despised dandelion…the invasive lawn weed, that most lawn-groomers hate!
Well, I love them!!  There are many varieties to select from for a green veggie dish. I select the blunted-end leaf variety as they seem to be the least bitter.
Harvested before the buds open also gives the most tender leaves.
The Common Dandelion
In the pot

Do a good washing & culling, then place into a pan with a half-inch of lightly salted water….just as you would do with spinach.  Cook a few minutes at a medium boil, drain, & place into a  small bowl with a thin slab of butter, a splash of apple cider vinegar and s&p.  This is a delightful and different dish of greens chocked full of vitamins .

If your lucky enough to find Ramps (wild onions) in your foraging, a few in the pot of dandy’s gives an additional touch.

I have been one lucky transplant with the locals who have enjoyed these wild foods and will share once they find out you’re not a “city slicker” who only eats store-bought goods.
My friend & neighbor has harvested Fiddleheads for all of his life. He’s 93!!!   A generous gift of a pound or two is always welcome.  I have never collected Fiddleheads because they have not been near me, and not in my part of Washington County, Maine.
A good washing & tip-cutting is enough to get them into the pot  and boiled ’til tender…about 15 minutes. Never eat raw!  Toss into your dish with butter & vinegar— OMG !  GOOD?   OOOH yes!!

The next wild gathering are Goose Tongue Greens…a seaside plantain found along the upper banks of tidal water.  We have a great crop  along the edge of our bay….never to be pulled out…only clipped off to save the roots. They are about 6-8″ tall in bunches, with a triangular blade. They are quite salty and usually need one water change.  Then a 4- or 5-minute boil, drained, and placed into a bowl, with butter& vinegar & no salt.  Another wonderful treat!

This mornings cutting.

Now that my garden is in, up come the weeds! YEA!  Am I crazy? Yes & No!  Pigweed is everywhere and I can hardly stand the wait for it to get big enough to cut.
Lambs Quarters have been a source of valuable green food for eons!  If you like spinach , Lambs Quarters are for you.

Picking is easy, just pull up or cut off before the seeds arrive, strip the leaves and cull out the bad ones.  Leaf miners invade the plant usually from the bottom up.  Cut the leaf stems if you wish. Treat just as you would spinach with butter, vinegar, s&p.  I like it better than spinach.

All of the above are served with a mess of steamers. YES, steamed clams! Only now can you die and go to wherever!!

Or, mussels, Mahogany little-necks, & linguini, topped with Fiddleheads! OMG!!  I just died again !  If I continue this kind of eating, I’m gonna die!!

Now the Alewives are running, so off to the closest stream, with a fishing permit, a net, hip-boots, & a bit of luck.
Netting a few at the upper dam & loosing a few.

When I was very  small, before school, and just after the Great Depression, it was a hard recovery for the average working person.
Luckily my Dad had a job with a Boston newspaper during the G.D. and WW ll, but the first 12 years of my life, we didn’t have  lots of “wish we hads”.  So foraging & free for-the-taking was in order.
On my Dad’s day off we headed to the Pembroke Herring Run for a catch of free fish.  The stream was just beside Rte. 14, ( Barker St.).  Dad had a home-made net from a burlap bag and an old rake handle.   Upon arrival a few others with hip-boots were in the stream netting all they could lift.  Dad dropped his net in & let it drift open and the Herring would go in to be trapped.  A full galvi-pail satisfied Dad & home we went.
At home he gutted the fish along with scraping the scales off, leaving the heads & tails on to Mom’s objections! Mom wrapped the Herring in brown paper with onions, maybe more—- then baked them in the black kerosene stove’s oven along with baked beans.
When done, they were unwrapped and the skin would peel off exposing the sweet white meat full of bones– that didn’t deter Dad, he picked around them and enjoyed his catch.  I picked off the onions — no onions for me– and picked at the meat– I did enjoy the beans and cold slaw — picking out the carrots.  That was a Saturday night’s dinner when Herring was in season for many years.


I remember my Mom saying to Dad, ” Bill, these are gross”!   But she picked at them after removing the heads.
After the War, and foods became more available, the Herring Run was overlooked. There were new limits & regulations, along with the long lines waiting for your turn & monitored by the Fish & Game Officers.

Today, Smoked Herring is a favorite of many…on top of a saltine cracker and washed down with a favorite beer….mine??  Guinness Stout, thank you!

A LATE COMER.  6-19-22.

White Perch from a close-by Lake, Goose tongue Greens, from our waterside. Chanterelle ‘shrooms, picked out back, and sprigs of Rosemary growing in a pot in our garden. A tasty dinner.

W. Ray Freden,  Marshfield, 70 years.  Pembroke Maine, “Down East” 17 years,  and wish it was longer.
 

SANDY NECK,  BARNSTABLE MA.

Meeting new beach buggy friends from other towns raved about Sandy Neck. I was now a seasoned Beach Buggier , so I thought!   It was time to Explore other beaches.  Sandy Neck, (S.N.) was about an hour away.
A note here for the boomers, there was no S.E.Expressway or divided Rte 6 Highway,  It was Rte 3-A to the Cape Cod Canal, then the now Rte 6-A to S.N.   A 40 mile trip in a vehicle now designed for off road travel, no picknick, not yet anyway!
I was pleased upon our arrival with the formality. Signs with rules & regulations,  a check-in station, and directional signs.  Sandy Neck seemed to have it’s act together.

It was a bit intimidating entering the trail through the dunes, they were 12 to 20 feet high !  Then up and down, the likes I had never seen.  The going was slow, mostly first gear,  that was a worry due to the small fuel tank, an extra five gallon can was wise.

As you can see, we were early beach goers, a late spring snow flurry didn’t stop us.

The old International only made a few trips to Sandy Neck, It was showing her age and needed to be retired, she had been in service on the beach for 5 years, the salt was eating away and  mechanical work was needed.

A 1956 Chevy Carryall was the much needed replacement.

The Chevy was a joy to drive on the highway and did well on the beaches. A stronger engine, a better geared transmission and a  tight rear enclosure.

Our friends that lived close to the beach only needed a day buggy, so the least expensive car in the lot became a candidate .

Willys Aero Sedan.

The sleeping quarters on top was called a “Dog House”

Sandy Neck is a ten mile stretch of peninsular and barrier beach terminating at the Barnstable Harbor mouth, At its South end  is a light house and small community.

The south end of Sandy Neck looking south at the mouth of Barnstable Harbor.

‘YO STRIPER !
My wife was pretty good at swinging my 12’ Striper rod !

Jimmy got one, those were the days when 16″ was legal !

Mountains of sand dunes the length of Sandy Neck.

Leftover oyster shells from Native Americans of many many years ago.

Sandy Neck was a place of interest and wonderment at every stop.

An evening campfire was always a must.

B.E.A.C.H.  BEST ESCAPE ANYONE CAN HAVE.  unknown.

W. Ray Freden, Seaview, Marshfield, 70 years,  nearly 20 on the beaches.

Many weekends were spent on Duxbury Beach resulting in many, many stories. The first five years were with the old  1936 International, a two-wheel drive over-sand vehicle.  However, being a 1936 truck, it rode like a truck!  It was under-powered, hard to steer, had poor brakes, and a gear ratio not suited for off-road driving! So why in hell did I use it?  It was free. My Dad gave it to me and the cost to convert it was not much money…..a good thing, because I didn’t make much.  So with the above con’s, a short trip to Duxbury  Beach was in my favor.

In the early days I simply drove to and  over the half-mile wooden Powder Point Bridge….then made a right turn onto the “Back Trail” on  the Bay-side.

Powder Point Bridge, Duxbury, Mass. (upper L),  To Duxbury Beach…a right turn to High Pines, 1.7 mi.,  another 2 mi. to the Gurnet, now Plymouth. Then 2 mi’s to the Western Point of Saquish.

At a low tide, the beach side was the easiest route to your destination.  However, at a high tide, the back road was your only choice, even though the water filled many low areas.  It was a slow trip weaving in and out… trying to stay above the salt water.  Back then, there were dunes ten feet high …maybe more.  There were numerous coves within these dunes that would accommodate  4 or 5 rigs, so you could join your friends or they would join you.

In my early days, it was just my girlfriend and me.  Most of our friends then were single.
Interests varied from hiking, swimming,  camping, striped bass fishing and shell-fishing.  Beer drinking was a requirement!  Camping gear was primitive. Cooking was usually done over a campfire and campfire wood was scarce.
I was in the woodworking business so my scrap wood was always bagged up and dragged along using up much of the truck-bed space.
Any driftwood was a welcome addition.  If it contained any metal or copper, it made for pretty colors and the smell of salt water driftwood is like no other.

Compliments of Grace “Dee Dee” Dunn.

A little more than half way down the beach was a high point called High Pines that had a hunting camp on it.  It was nearly covered with wind blown sand dunes, along with beach plum bushes.   Poison ivy had a foothold there too. I understand a waterfowl hunter from Duxbury named Burt Hunt built or owned this camp as a duck hunting lodge in the 20’s & 30’s.  It was also used in my time,  and Google Earth shows that it’s still there, although no longer a shack!
A short distance south brought you to the Gurnet & Gurnet Point…a high ledge at the mouth of  Plymouth Harbor.  A lighthouse is at it’s highest point, a Coast Guard installation, numerous camps and year around homes are now there. The east and south sides are cliffs to the ocean. The west side is attached to Saquish beach, the head & west end with many camps within the sand dunes. It’s quite private and little room for visitors or camping.  It’s a beautiful spot with Plymouth, Kingston, & Duxbury Bay nearly  surrounding the spit.
Clark’s Island is just off-shore to the northwest. It’s an historic area with records of the Pilgrims being anchored nearby in November, 1620, waiting to explore the upland to establish a settlement.
The area mud flats are a shell-fishing mecca.  I have dug steamers, Quahogs ,  (cherrystones & littlenecks), razor clams & sea clams.

Getting back to the beach approaching the Gurnet, we set up camp so I could go skin-diving off the rocky ledge that runs out  from the Gurnet.  A spear gun always provided us with a flounder or tautog… a favorite fish to cook on the open fire.

  Returning from a catch.

A low tide was required to dive the rocks in search of lobsters.
Any catch of lobsters, plus a few steamers, made a happy day for a clam bake.
This was a good day….. 2 lobsters & 2 crabs.

We would dig a pit in the sand, line it with stones, then a fire was built within to get the rocks hot enough for cooking.  A pile of seaweed was placed over the hot rocks.  Then lobsters and corn were placed on top, followed by clams and seaweed.  A tarp, covered with sand, was placed over the whole pit.

Loading up the firewood

Covering the catch with rockweed

I always had some dread of the cooking results,

Done? Not done? Overdone?

I will admit, we never had a disaster.  If anything was over cooked, it was the littlenecks.  They have to be removed  from the heat when they pop open or they get rubbery!

Another happy day for all.

An hour’s wait & a few beers later,  we would  open the pit. That was  an exciting and rewarding  experience every time we had that opportunity.

“The Good Ole Days”.
Oh how I long for days like that again.
My girlfriend of 5 years and wife of 60 years (the same wonderful person), often reminisce of our days on the beach.

“The only B.S. I want is the ”Beach and Sunshine”.  And, once there, followed by more B.S.S., “Beer, Sunshine and the Surf”. 

“Life, the way it should be.”

Next; Our early days on Sandy Neck Beach, Barnstable Ma.

W. Ray Freden.  Marshfield Seaview ….70 years.

” Down East Maine”…..17 years.