Getting to Know Burdock

Burdock is one of those plants most of us have walked past a hundred times without ever thinking of it as food. It grows on waste ground, along hedgerows, beside paths and on the edges of playing fields all over Britain. You will almost certainly know it from its second year, when it throws up tall stems topped with purple thistle-like flowers and those maddening hooked burrs that cling to dog fur and woolly jumpers. That is the plant people remember. The part worth eating is hidden below.

Burdock is a biennial. In its first year it makes a broad rosette of leaves and quietly builds a long, deep taproot. In its second year it flowers, sets seed and dies. It is the first-year root you want, and the challenge is entirely practical: it goes down further than you would like, and it grips the ground with real determination.

Before you dig anything, be certain of your identification. Burdock leaves are large and heart-shaped, held on grooved stalks, and the underside is noticeably white and woolly — almost like felt. Crush a leaf and you get a faint, green, artichoke-ish smell. The most serious lookalike is foxglove, whose first-year rosette can appear in similar places and is seriously poisonous. Foxglove leaves are softer and downier, with a tight, neat rosette and prominent netted veins, and they are never white-woolly underneath. If the underside of the leaf is not white and woolly, walk away.

Where and When to Dig

Autumn and winter are your window. From October through to March, before the second-year plant starts to shoot, the root is at its plumpest and most tender. Once the flowering stem begins to rise in spring, the root turns woody and hollow-centred.

Look for light, deep, free-draining soil — sandy loam is ideal. On heavy clay the roots fork and twist around stones, which makes both lifting and cleaning a misery. Choose your ground with care:

• Avoid roadside verges, which catch spray and exhaust grit.
• Avoid railway embankments and land that may have been treated with weedkiller.
• Avoid nature reserves and protected commons, where digging is not permitted.
• Avoid the popular dog-walking spots — for obvious reasons.
• Always ask the landowner first if the ground is not obviously yours to dig.

Lifting the Root with a Fork

A garden fork is the right tool, not a spade. Push the fork in vertically about twenty centimetres out from the crown and lever gently, working your way around the plant to loosen the soil on all sides. In good sandy ground the root can run thirty to sixty centimetres down, so a second and third levering really does help.

Once the soil is loosened, grip the crown firmly and pull with a slow, steady pressure, twisting slightly as you go. Never yank — a snapped root is a wasted root. If it does break, the upper section is still perfectly usable, and the plant will regrow from what is left behind.

If the ground is baked hard, water the spot thoroughly the day before. It makes an enormous difference.

Cleaning and Preparing

Burdock comes out of the ground filthy, and the root is deeply ridged, so cleaning takes a little patience. Soak the roots in cold water for ten minutes to soften the soil, then scrub them hard with a stiff-bristled brush under running water. Work along the grooves with your thumbnail or a small knife.

You can scrape the thin outer skin rather than peel it — there is good flavour and fibre just beneath. Slice the root into matchsticks or thin diagonal coins and drop them straight into a bowl of cold water with a squeeze of lemon or a splash of vinegar. Burdock browns within minutes of cutting, and the acid keeps it pale.

Young roots are tender; older ones have a tough, fibrous core that is best trimmed out or saved for stock. Wrapped in a damp cloth, the roots keep in the fridge for up to a week. They also freeze well, and dry nicely for later use.

Cooking the Roots

Flavour-wise, burdock sits somewhere between a parsnip, an artichoke and a very earthy carrot, with a slight sweetness and a pleasing bite. It holds its texture beautifully, which makes it a fine addition to almost anything rustic.

• Stir-fries: the classic treatment. Slice into fine matchsticks and fry over high heat for five to eight minutes with oil, garlic, ginger and soy, finishing with sesame and a splash of rice vinegar.
• Roasting: toss batons in oil and salt and roast at 200C for twenty-five to thirty minutes alongside other root vegetables.
• Stews and soups: add early and let it simmer; it thickens and sweetens the broth.
• Pickling: blanch briefly, then pack into vinegar with a little sugar and chilli.

Dandelion and Burdock

This is where burdock earns its place in British affection. The old-fashioned soft drink was traditionally brewed and lightly fermented, and you can make a very good version at home. Scrub and chop a good handful of burdock root and a handful of dandelion root, then simmer both in two litres of water with a few slices of ginger and a strip of lemon peel for twenty to thirty minutes. Strain, stir in three hundred to five hundred grams of sugar while the liquid is still hot, and add the juice of a lemon. Cool it, bottle it, and drink within a week, or add a pinch of dried yeast and leave it two or three days for a gentle fizz. It tastes of liquorice, citrus and earth — and it costs you nothing but an afternoon's digging.