Fun walks for fun-guys: a wild-food hunt with the Cotswold forager

From sloes to mushrooms, the Cotswolds offers a bounty of wild edibles. Discover a passion for local plants, sustainable harvesting, and the joys of connecting with nature through food.

Rob Gould is known as the Cotswold Forager, brought up in the area and expert on the edible wild vegetation that grow on its rolling hills, in dark beech woods, in its deep secret valleys.
Yet it was time spent with grandparents in London that sparked Rob’s interest in plants. ‘On my mother’s side, my grandfather would get away from the domestic side of life by escaping to his greenhouse. It would be pouring with rain and he’d say, ‘I’m going out to do some gardening!’
‘He’d put on this great big long coat, and we’d go to the greenhouse. My job would be to lie on the concrete path down the middle and pull the bottom leaves off the tomatoes to stop them wasting energy. He’d sit and read the newspaper, knowing my Nan couldn’t see him through the rain! Even to this day, if I’m buying tomatoes rather than growing them, I get them on the vine because that smell that reminds me of his greenhouse.’
After school, Rob studied horticulture at Pershore College, where the library would often sell unwanted stock. When he picked up a second-hand book on foraging, he was hooked.
‘I’d always found solace outside: listening to birds and looking at plants. But it was just somewhere where I’d spend time. Finding out about foraging made me see there were other sides to the outdoors, to do with nature and food. For me, a mini revelation.’

Rob, if we were to forage with you in autumn or early winter, what might we find?

At this time of year, I really enjoy gathering things like sloes, nuts and hedgerow fruits. Sloes are a big thing in the Cotswolds. I tend to infuse them in vodka, golden rum, brandy or whisky. If you pick them earlier in the year, you can put them in brine and use them the next summer in salads or cocktails. I’ve worked with chefs, who’ve put them in stews when they wanted something like an olive to add a fruity note.

What about autumn mushrooms…?

Lots of people have heard of a summer mushroom called chicken of the woods. My favourite is hen of the woods, which does occasionally grow in the Cotswolds. If I come across those, I get really excited. Shop-bought mushrooms have a very obvious mushroom-y smell; hen of the woods is much more subtle, nuanced and perfumed. And the flavour is delicate but strong, if that makes sense. It doesn’t overpower. Purists say you should eat foraged ingredients as they are; but I tend to use hen of the woods in a creamy, mustard-y sauce. They go well with pasta; they’re amazing in Dauphinoise potatoes. It’s one of the most pleasant flavours you can get.

Have you ever accidentally eaten anything you shouldn’t?

Never accidentally! When you’re starting out, you spend a lot of time learning the right, safe and careful way to do things. And you’re told, for example, you shouldn’t eat a certain thing because, in 60 percent of people, it will cause a stomach upset. Or another plant isn’t poisonous but it will make you feel as if your mouth’s burning. The trouble is, that just gets me thinking: Burning? How? Does it taste like a chilli? Or like food that’s too temperature-hot?
So, take lords-and-ladies plants. They contain alkaline chemicals in the form of microscopic crystals, shaped like a double-ended javelin, that will embed themselves in your skin and burn like acid. Having read up on them and discovering that, in certain countries, they’re consumed as a famine food, I thought: OK. I’m going to try this. The berries are pea-sized and orange-y-red. I picked one that was soft and red and at its most ripe. That’s the point where the plant would be wanting something to eat it to transport the seed round: potentially the point of least danger…
In theory, at least! It was like eating the spiciest chilli you could imagine, but the pain didn’t go away for a couple of hours.

Are foraged foods especially good for us?

A lot of wild plants tend to have much higher nutrient-densities; much higher vitamin levels. That’s especially true of the more bitter leaves you find in spring and summer; less so in autumn. They’re high in a group of chemicals called phytonutrients, which just means ‘plant nutrients’. There’s a lot of work going on about them at the moment: how they assist your gut bacteria to absorb vitamins and minerals more efficiently. In other words, if you’re eating more phyto – even if you change nothing else in your diet – you’ll absorb more of the things that are good for you.

What does foraging tell you about the health of our natural environment?

How long have you got? I’ve been foraging for more than 20 years, and I can tell you that the seasons don’t flow in the same way they used to. This spring, there were some plants out way earlier than I’ve ever seen them. Yet, on one July day, I woke up to a temperature of 12 degrees! We’re having to get used to new patterns… but are they even patterns? Certainly, you’ve got to be much more intuitive about how you go about foraging nowadays.

How do you forage responsibly?

In the Cotswolds, we tend to have lot of herbaceous growth where many of the flavours are too strong for animals, so what I’m gathering isn’t necessarily going to impact to a huge degree. But that doesn’t mean you don’t forage in a way that’s sustainable. I only gather what I would use over the next couple of days. The exception would be if I come across an area with a particularly huge amount of any given thing, in which case I’ll gather to preserve as well.
But even though you might not think much eats mushrooms, for example, you have to consider the whole ecosystem. It’s not just about ‘cuddly’ animals. You need to care about weevils, maggots and worms that need to feed, too. Without them, there might not be anything cuddly.

Apart from things to eat, what would you like people to take away from your foraging walks?

It’s funny because many people really care about what’s happening with the rainforests in Brazil; with the bushfires in Australia and America; with the fact that you’ll get habitats destroyed left, right and centre. But they don’t always look at their own environment in the same way and say, ‘The council has just allowed developers to chop down 400 trees that have been there for 250 years, because they’re making the road a bit wider.’ Spending time outdoors is not only good for you; it gives you a sense of ownership and responsibility; of wanting to protect what you see.

Tell us more about your foraging walks…

The public and private walks offer a similar experience. But, on public walk, there are potentially 12 or 13 other people around you asking questions. On a private walk, it’s you and your friends or family or colleagues. They all last around two-and-a-half to three hours – but, because you’re foraging, you might only cover a couple of miles. Every walk is different. One group might be particularly interested in cooking, so we’ll talk about that. On another I led, half the group happened to be in the catering industry, on the bar side of things, so we explored making alcohol infusions; syrups. In September last year, lots of people were into preserving and making jams.

For more on Rob Gould, Cotswold Forager – including details of public and private foraging walks – visit cotswoldforager.co.uk