Bit Of A Smell

"That's wild garlic," said the driver as she motored along the Dargle river (lovely clear brown water, not unlike Madeira wine…

"That's wild garlic," said the driver as she motored along the Dargle river (lovely clear brown water, not unlike Madeira wine - in colour that is) after sampling many of the delights of that vast empire known as Powerscourt. Almost a country within a country. She ought to know her stuff, but doubting Thomas wanted to get out and see - and smell. He remembered from away back when he and a couple of friends used to go fishing in Pallas Lake, Tullamore, in May and June and would come into Monasterevan on the journey back to Dublin via a bog road rather than along the main route. As soon as they came to the join of the road again they were hit by the smell from the trees and river across the way - it was garlic, unmistakably so. Once or twice they got out and looked over the wall at the river and the banks with their white flower and heavy oniony smell. Well, in Powerscourt the plant was still low, yet the flowers were unmistakable. But - always check. So you get out of the car, finger a leaf, and there is no doubt. It's the wild garlic. All along the bank, thick and flourishing, though not more than six or eight inches high. It will grow. This is only April.

So, on return pick up Richard Mabey's heavy (in weight only) Flora Britannica. Yes, Ramsons or Wild Garlic, Al- lium ureinum, also known as Stinking Nanny, Stinking Onions, Londoner's Lilies. He writes, with some understatement, that "a large stand of wild garlic in full odour is, for a couple of months a year, an impressive and unmistakable landmark". The name Ramsons is repeated in many places in Britain: Ramsey Island, Ramsbottom in Lancashire, Ramsden and Ramsey in Essex, etc. On the Isle of Man, where motorcycle races were (and maybe still are) held, fans returning were said to be shunned by their friends because many of the places where the spectators watched were garlic-ridden. They may smell, but Mabey says they are surprisingly mild to eat.

Oliver Rackham, well known naturalist "pops the leaves in peanut butter sandwiches when he's doing woodland fieldwork". An Italian owner of an English pub uses olive oil in which Ramson leaves have been steeped for use on sun-dried tomatoes, and even adds chopped Ramson leaves instead of basil to a cold tomato sauce for pasta. As for you: just be sure.