Christmas, just a bit wilder (and less stressy – how good is that?)

There is no denying it, Christmas is poking its head around the corner, chestnuts are roasting, cider is mulling and we’re all starting to get that scared look. In a blink of a bleary eye December will be in full swing & stress levels will boing of the charts. There is a wild ally you need to get know about to get you through the chaos of December, whether you’re running late on your shopping, fighting lurgies, or swinging from the rafters having drunk all your sloe gin.

So take note good people, you might thank me for it (I’m expecting a full stocking this year) Now, we’re not herbalists at Forage, we’re greedy cooks who know something that tastes good when we see it, but as anyone who has the foraging bug will tell you it’s pretty nigh on impossible to not get a bit excited about the medicinal benefits of wild food when you get to know a bit about them

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin….a few years ago,  I saw someone was selling nettle seeds – yes nettle seeds. Oh how I mocked them, those fools; who on earth would buy nettle seeds?…little did I know that I was the dunce. I knew nettle leaves were quite frankly magical stuff, aside from making brilliant soups & pestos, they turn marmalade into something so good it should be a compulsory ingredient, and make spring cocktails that fizz with vitality. However, I didn’t have the foggiest idea about quite how marvellous nettle seeds were until I met a nettle seed eater. They didn’t knit their own wellies, everything about them was normal apart from being extremely calm (like horizontal) their secret? Tiny little nettle seeds. It turns out those people buying nettle seeds online were onto something, nettle seed is pretty amazing  – google its uses and you’ll find HUGE amounts of accounts of how it balances your adrenal gland (stressed? That’ll be adrenalin you’re living on) it acts as a natural stimulant giving run down souls much needed energy AND it helps keep your kidneys fighting fit (and lets face it that’s got to be a good thing in the month of office parties)

So there you have it, our recommendation for this most festive time of may not be around in the great outdoors right now but fortunately you can forage online for your seeds this year, I promise not to mock you, in fact I’ll doff my nettle twine cap to your wisdom & your fantastically chilled out Christmas.

Oh, and of course whilst you’re buying nettle seed you might want to take a sneak at our very own creations to help your Christmas go with a wild swing -quite frankly I think hiding in a locked room with a jar of wild chocolate mincemeat could be just as helpful as those stingers..

Crab Apple & Quince mincemeat with The Botanist gin


Wild Harvest Feast 2105

The air in early September is heavy with the scent of ripe fruit, late summer flowers and ripening nuts, and this year we are going to feast on the mellow fruitfulness of this most magical season.

On 5th September we’re heading to the utterly beautiful Llanvihangel Court in Monmouthshire for our first wild harvest feast, it’s a house that wraps its arms around you and surrounded by orchards of heaving fruit we couldn’t think of a more magical location to welcome the early mist filled days of autumn. No harvest feast would be complete without music and we’ve managed to lure the supremely talented Barrule Trio to play their intoxicating brand of folk after the meal.

We’ll be eating food from rambling gardens, heaving orchards, abundant hedgerows.. from fields, mountain and woodland – come and join us for very delicious end to the summer.

Tickets are £35 per person, and include a wild cocktail on arrival, wild canapés and a 3 course meal. To reserve your tickets send us a message via the contact us page and we’ll get back in touch with payment information


      wood pigeon, fresh hazelnut, whimberry & chickweed salad with damson verjus


           sorrel, sumac & feta fried butterbean salad with rosehip & chili vinaigrette

                                     main course

         vension with pears and dauphinoise potatoes with wild thyme infused cream.


        roasted grapes & stuffed vine leaves, with hazelnut & puy lentils with grape verjus


          evening primrose posset with mulberry compote


           damson vodka & honeysuckle jelly and ice cream

You say Bilberry, I say Whimberry…

The mountains that surround our hill top kitchen are gluttonous places, and in mid July they become home to one of my favourite finds of the year… Just as the nights turn darker in so dark inky berries start to punctuate the hillsides and foragers hands no longer smell of nectar laden flowers but of sugar filled inky berries.

From now until the end of November there will be a distinctive shade of purple about my gatherings; from almost black elderberries and blackberries to sloes and damsons dusted with a white bloom. But for now, it is time to gather the earliest and most elusive of the purple berries; wild blueberries. You might know these little berries as Whimberries or Bilberries according to which side of Offas Dyke you live, but where ever you reside you’ll find these delicious little berries on the same type of ground; high up on mountain sides. Children around the Black Mountains are agile mountain goats and head of to the hills with margarine tubs that they spend hours filling in return for the guarantee of a large slice of blueberry pie as their reward.

If you spend an afternoon gathering these inky berries, you’ll realise how precious your haul is – you’ll be covered in staining juice, with tired legs and a small pot of fruit for your efforts. This is a forage that needs to be treated like you’d treat rare jewels; make the most of their flavours in special treats you can enjoy through the year…place your first handful in a bottle of vodka with a sprig of heather flowers to make a sweet delicious liqueur, your second in a bottle of cider vinegar with a few myrtle leaves, and put your third handful in a pan of apple pectin to make a delicious whimberry conserve.

Through out the rest of the year you’ll be able to sup on your afternoons pickings – adding a splash of dark purple to sparkling wine, a drizzle of fruity sweetness to a winter salad and a silky coating to buttery toast.

But leave a handful for you to eat now, sprinkled on a thick creamy yoghurt, or in a pastry worth climbing mountains for – even for a small slice

This is my version of the classic & longed for Whimberry pie, a delicious combination of whimberry and bay – flavours that call out to be put together. This little desert looks like something you’d find in a bakers window, a baker who happened to be perched on the mountain side.

Wild Blueberry and Bay pastries.


Wild blueberries pair really well with bay leaves. I use fresh leaves from my rambling bay shrub in the garden, but dried bay is just as good. Bay leaf is delicious in any cream based dish


First roll out a sheet of shop bought puff pastry on a sheet of greaseproof paper (you can make your own but I’d rather be outside picking than inside pastry making), place the pastry on the paper on a baking tray, score the pastry to make 5 cm by 10 cm rectangles, place the pastry in an oven preheated to 200 degrees, and cook until golden and puffed up.


Next, make the Bay infused crème patisserie. Gently heat 350ml of milk and add to the milk 3 bay leaves – leave the bay to infuse for 15 minutes. Meanwhile mix 2 egg yolks with 20g flour and 15g cornflour, 25g sugar and 50ml milk – mix until smooth, and then blend in the wamr milk. Return the mixture to the pan and stir until the mixture is thick. If you wish you can whip and fold in the 2 egg whites. Leave the crème to cool.


break the pastry into rectangles, and slice across each piece, dollop a spoonful of crème on the bottom layer, and sprinkle with wild blueberries. Top with the other half of the pastry, dust with icing sugar and serve with inky fingers..

Blossoms, jelly, gin and rain.

The British summer is nearly upon us, for a few weeks palest apple blossoms, mauve lilac flowers and early roses have punctuated the green landscape with their splashes of painterly colour..but the north wind doth blow, scattering blossom confetti at the feet of newly swelling fruit trees. And we shall have rain, and soon the rain leaches colour from these late spring blooms. But before you say goodbye to the smells and sights of spring florals, turn a few into a treat fit for a flower fairy, and her boozier elf friends….

These recipes are a mix of wondrous spring flowers, sour early fruit, herby surprises and weedy treats – they are worth both making together and eating / drinking in one sitting. You’ll be full of the joys of late spring if you do.


Firstly you’ll need to make a bottle of nettle syrup – don’t be put off, it’s heady stuff & you can eat the nettles for puritanical goodness..pick young nettle tips, add them to a pan with 250ml water, wilt and squeeze out the liquid – add your nettles to wild garlic pesto or blitz with a spoon of cream, scrape of nutmeg and twist of pepper & stir into pasta.

Add 250g sugar to the nettle liquid, warm and dissolve & take the liquid to the boil, making a syrup – add a squeeze of lemon and allow this to cool (e voila – you’ve gotten nettle syrup)

Gather a handful of apple blossoms, a mauve head of a lilac flower, an early rose, a few honeysuckle flowers and a handful of blackcurrant leaves..chop into slivers, and add to them the thinnest slices of rhubarb, pine tips, and angelica stems.

If you want to feed fairies, dissolve gelatine into the nettle syrup, stir in the blossoms and top up with soda water (or processo if your fairies are over 18) pour the mixture into a suitable container & place in a refrigerator until set.

Feasting with an Elf? They’re partial to a sun downer you know – gently pound the flowers, herbs and rhubarb in a pestle & mortar with a spoon of sugar & squirt of lemon. Pour into a tall glass for you and a thimble for the Elf, add a shot of gin or vodka, a chunk of ice and top up with soda.

Eat, drink and get a spring in your step..





A tiptoe through the wild garlic

Just as garlic makes vampires turn on their evil heels and run, so up and down the countries woodlands and valleys, the dark shadow of winter is cast to one side as wild garlic emerges out of the brown earth…the musty scent of the woodland floor turns into a pungent aroma of wild umami – you’ll find no sharp toothed blood drinkers in the woods during April, but you will find plenty canny cooks filling their baskets with the addictive flavour of spring. Just as sophisticated eateries in sophisticated cities hail the arrival of wild garlic on their menus with huge fanfairs, so tastebud driven people through the ages have gorged on the green shoots of spring – perhaps with the same delight as todays savvy eaters knowing it was a sign of warmth, sunshine and abundant days to come. Just like blackberries in the atumn,  wild garlic makes even the most timid gatherer forage with rampant abandon, grabbing handfuls of the flavoursome green leaves, stuffing bagfuls for pestos. to wilt as spinach and to turn intp soup – delicious, healthy and free -wild garlic is surely the safest to forage, easiest to gather and easiest to use of all the wild plants right? Well not quite -it IS one of the loveliest flavours that natures head chef could conguer up, but you need to pick with a bit more respect than you might imagine to ensure you enjoy wild garlic for a long time to come.…

Gather wild garlic from patches which are abundant and as all good foragers would tell you, only take what you need & don’t pull up clumps of garlic, or rip all the leaves from a patch – if leave your patch looking like you haven’t been there you’re on the right track. I pick wild garlic leaves leaf by leaf – it sounds painstaking, and it’s a lot slower than grabbing handfuls but I do it for a very good reason.…
Far from being the easiest to identify of wild greens, there are some very poisonous lookalikes that lurk in the very same hangouts as wild garlic. Let me introduce you to the shiny green leaves of Lords and Ladies (or Cuckoo Pint – a tiny bite on a leaf makes your mouth feel like it’s being burnt – the up side is that you are likely to spit it out…you’re not so likely to notice you’re eating a  highly toxic Lily of the Valley, that’s snuck into your haul or worse still,  you’d proably not notice the rouge deadly foxglove leaf or of fatally posionous Meadow Saffron (Autumn Crocus) who in the spring just so happens to be in full leaf yet with no flowers – looking rather like wild garlic. Meadow Saffron is crammed full with an incredibly posionous compound which is as dangerous and deadly  as arsenic – it is a native wild flower which  grows in meadows and in woodland drives and one of the few places in the UK that it is still going strong is in the West Mildands & Welsh Marches. The carefree afternoon of going crazy in a woodland of wild garlic might not seem so fact the thought of  foraging when there are so many deadly menaces lurking around every tree trunk might put you off for life…but don’t let it! Follow the simple rules of foraging and you’ll be able to gather  wild garlic with confidence  and you’ll enjoy a long, fruitful, delicious and sustainable gathering career..
Know what NOT to pick. Make sure you know how to identify wild garlics poisionous lookalikes – these are: Arum maculatum (known as Lords and Ladies or Cuckoo Pint) Lily of the Valley, and Colchicum autmnale (Meadow Saffron or Autumn Crocus)
Arum maculatum leaves have irregular edges and very deep veins on glossy leaves – wild garlic leaves have a single main vein on duller leaves.
Lily of the Valley leaves come from a single purple stem – wild garlic leaves come from individual green coloured stems
Colchicum autumnale (Meadow Saffron or Autumn Crocus) leaves are in full growth in the spring – they are slightly more straplike than wild garlic.
Foxglove leaves are hairy compared to wild garlics smooth leaves, but they grow in the same places and unless you gather carefully they could end up in your basket.
Many people recommend rubbing the leaves of plants they are trying to ID to see if they are garlic scented – be aware though that if your hands already smell of wild garlic it’ll be difficult to work out if it’s a leaf that smells of garlic or your hand – my recommendation is to  learn what the poisonous mimics look like, to pick leaf by leaf, not clump by clump. Don’t rush your foray, don’t be greedy and don’t take risks.
Once you’ve learnt what not to pick, and have slowly but surely  gathered your well earned treasure , celebrate your responsible foraging by making the most incredible pesto you’re likely to ever pick, make or eat.
200g wild garlic leaves
50g blanched & dried nettle tops
circa 250ml olive or rapeseed oil,
freshly grated or hot horseradish sauce
dried English mustard
cider apple vinegar
75g grated hard cheese (I use Wye Valley cheese)
50g ground toasted hazelnuts.
Wash the wild garlic leaves  in water with added vinegar, dry and  roughly chop the nettle and wild garlic leaves. Put the leaves leaves into your food processor, add a generous squeeze of lemon juice, a splash of vinegar, a good pinch of mustard powder, a  teaspoon of horseradish, a teaspoon of sugar and a pinch of salt, add enough oil to cover the ingredients and blitz until  finely blrnded. Add the grated cheese and ground nuts, blend again and then start tasting – season  according to your taste. Wild garlic pesto can be kept in the fridge for a week or so – any longer than that & you should store it in the freezer.
 It may of taken a careful gather, but once you’ve made your pesto smothered it on meat, veg, pasta & bread, you will be glad you spent the afternoon on your knees in the woods…

Eat spring? It would be rude not to…

We love spring here at Forage. Tender new growth is full of vitality & tonic like flavour, Inside unassuming buds and tiny flowers hide powerhouses of magical flavour – this really is the time to feast. From the moment the sap started rising we’ve been preparing a wild utterly delicious feast that will celebrate everything delicious about a wild spring. On the 2nd May we are going to be serving our finds at our Wild Spring Feast.

On the menu this year we’ll be eating:  beech leaves, wood sorrel, wild boar, pine tips, rhubarb, cherry blossom , primrose flowers, ladysmock, jack by the hedge, wild garlic, hawthorn, pennywort, horseradish, bittercress, dandelion, nettle, violet flowers, primrose leaves, blackcurrant leaves, ground elder, cleavers, hogweed shoots, wild leeks and tulip petals..

wild canapés and cocktails on arrival

Trout served with rhubarb, apple, flowering currant flowers, angelica, mint and pine

Wild gazpacho served in freshly picked tulip petals

Wild boar (or griddled fresh halloumi) served with wild garlic pesto, hogweed shoots, asparagus, and charred wild leeks

blackcurrant leaf sorbet

Birch sap syrup crème caramel, primrose curd & violet cream pavlova

Tickets to the Wild Spring Feast are on sale now. £35 per person including canapés, cocktails and 3 courses. If you would like to book tickets for the event please contact us on 01873 860347 or via our contact us page.

Breath in the spring..then eat it

Have you ever noticed the ‘smell of spring’? It usually happens on a dewy morning when the sun is warming up the ground and plants are growing so fast you can almost see them shoot upwards. This recipe captures some of the plants that contribute to this wonderful sweet smell; a wild take on a classic salsa verde – easy to gather, easy to make and very very easy to eat. And would you believe it, it’s delicious with bangers, on bread and probably goes very well with a glass of beer. It also happens to be senstational with spring lamb, pork, fish or cheese.

These are all rough quanities, it’s up to you how much you pick or add. When you are collecting your ingredients have a bite so you get to know the leaves distinct flavours – you’ll have a pleasant suprise! Incase you can’t find them all, I’ve included a ‘non wild’ alternative to the wild ingredients. Adapt this recipe for your own taste buds or what you can gather – the core ‘herby’ ingredients are garlic and ground elder (or parsley) play around with the other ingredients – this kind of recipe is all about having a bit of a play! Think grown up mud pies that happen to taste delicious…go on, get playing
a large handful of wild garlic (or 2 bulbs of garlic)
a large handful of ground elder (or flat leaved / curly leaved parsley)
a few dandelion leaves before the plant has flowered
a handful of ox eyed daisy leaves or daisy leaves from your lawn
a dozen or so pennywort leaves (or a small cucumber with the seeds removed)
a dozen or so sorrel leaves (or a squeeze of lemon juice)
a small handful of mint leaves
a handful of young hawthorn or lime leaves

2 tablespoons of pickled nasturtium seeds, samphire or elderflower buds (or capers)
Virgin Rape seed oil or olive oil
Cider Vinegar

Soak all of the leaves in fresh water with a cup of vinegar added – (this cleans them).
Dry the leaves in a salad spinner (or, if you are like me give and without one, give them a good shake!)
Roll handfuls of leaves into cigars and chopped them as finely as your arms will allow. You can put them in the food processor and blitz them, but the best texture comes from hand chopping (sorry!)
Add the leaves to a bowl, finely chop the nasturium seeds and add these.
Pour in enough vinegar to make the leaves ‘wet’ but not drowned – about 250ml (if you have leaves floating in a pool of vinegar, you’d probably added too much)
Add a few glugs of oil – stir the mixture together
Start adding sugar, tasting along the way –  you want to get to a sweet and sour balance that you like; and finlally season the mixture with salt if you feel it needs it.
Put the salsa verde into a covered jar, pop in the fridge and use within a couple of days

Probably one of the least prescribed recipes you’ll ever read but sometimes you have to use your taste buds rather than a book…

Feeling empty? Go for a forage – it’ll fill your tummy & your soul…

I don’t think I consciously ‘got’ into foraging, it’s always been something I’ve done – as a child it was just what I did, picking apples and blackberries, picking flowers for potions, or searching for fallen branches to make dens –  gathering was my child’s play. I loved and still do love the natural world; from the incredible graphic patterns inside a foxglove flower to the smell of a camp fire on a balmy evening; gathering from the wild is just part of what makes me happy and is central to the make up of me as a person.

I went to a rather magical school in the middle of the Bedfordshire countryside, a lost in time girls school; a ramshakled oak filled & mothball smelling beautiful building set in the most bucolic grounds; sweeping Cedar lawns, hockey pitches that disappeared into the horizon, and ‘the wilderness’  my happiest memories of my teenage years were lunch breaks with my friends or by myself in this woodland area hidden at the back of the grounds – It was an ethereal place, wide mowed paths cut into thigh deep swads of grasses & wild flowers; we’d lie in the depths of the grasses, hidden from the day to day routine by curtains of corncockles, vetches, and buttercups gazing through the canopy of leaves above at what I remember as permanently cloudless blue skies. it was the place that provided comfort and peace for many of the girls at school; I don’t know if the Wilderness was consciously created with that aim but I think it was inspired to leave a wild place where we could be alone.

I was always been in awe of the natural world – laying face down on a lawn  of grass with the miniature world beneath my eyes, or gazing into a tiny flower head to discover the most beautiful painting would leave me with a euphoric sense of awe about the world & how good it was to be part of it. I have always be conscious of how lucky we are to play a part in the world; and I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve taken a moment in nature for granted.

My life was in no way unblemished however. I suffered the usual rites of passage of a teenage girl and my family went through some extremely difficult and heart-breaking times when I was in my childhood and early teens which left deep scars, but for some reason, I don’t remember the detail or even the feeling of the bad or sad times but like a mother after child birth, I can only really remember the blissful moments; and those memories are vividly accompanied by the feeling of damp grass between my toes in the summer, the smell of growth in spring, gulping in the most delicious air on misty, haw frost coated mornings, the taste of sweet ripe plums eaten straight from the tree.

I am conviced that from a young age turning unconciously to nature grounded me in the world; gave me an outlook that has helped me through the heartbreak, illness and loss that life bestows on all of us & I’ve not escaped without my fair share of heartache – but I have always felt lucky to have the abilility to turn to something that soothes, heals and grounds me; I’ve never lost faith in the wonder of the world & I feel strongly that my attachment to the land has attached me to life. In times of stuggle my urge is to get outside – planting, weeding, gathering, walking; they have all been vitally important elements of my life.

Whether I’m in the garden for 10 minutes or out gathering until the stars are in the sky, there is nothing more soothing, relaxing and mindful for me to do than to gather – it’s not about the food at this point, it’s not about the buisness, it’s not even about the recipes I’m thinking about in my head; it’s about the moment, the drone of nearby bees gathering the same nectar as I am, the evening song of the thrush sharing its folk song  just with me, the canada geese gliding over head enroute to its summer home, walking into the pockets of warm air  that only people or animals willing to be still and slow for long enough can enjoy. It is also about the child who is still residing in me being allowed to come out & get face to face again with branches that would make a good pole for a den, perfect flowers for fairy hats & the beauty of the world around us that makes me & my inner child know our life is a wonderful gift.

Primrose Curd – A taste of spring to come

The dirty palette of winter landscapes has suddenly been injected with splashes of vibrant tones, fields are greening with neon new shoots and verges are speckled with yellows of all hues; primroses. gorse flowers, celandine and daffodils, signalling that spring really is coming.

Up here is the hills we’re still in the throws of winter but even here we’ve spotted a few buttery primroses celebrating the very welcome, very delicious flavours of early spring. So whether you’re in sunny parts where spring is springing, or in a colder pocket where you need a glimpse into spring, this is for you…..  What better way to celebrate the coming of spring than with a sweet treat full of spring sunshine flavours, and if you have primroses in your garden you can turn a handful of flowers into a desert to delight even the saddest Jack Frost.

My friend Rebecca lives in a little cottage which has a beautiful shady garden which is covered in primroses in the spring, it is so carpeted in fact that the cottage is called Primrose Cottage and her 2 sons Tim and Rob gather the primroses I use in my curd. Rather than collecting from verges, gather your primroses from clumps in your own gardens. You can pluck and propagate at the same time as primrose seeds can be sown green – pop open the fruit capsule & push the tiny seeds just under the earth – you’ll have your own Primrose Cottage in no time.

Primrose Curd  – with Primrose Meringues

Makes 8


4 large egg whites

240g granulated or caster sugar

8-10 primrose flowers, chopped

Primrose curd (see below) or lemon curd

300ml double cream, whipped

Preheat the oven to 300F/150C/Gas 2. Put the egg whites and about a quarter of the sugar in a large bowl and whisk to soft peaks. Still whisking, gradually sprinkle in all but about 3 tbsp of the sugar, beating until it is holding soft peaks again. Finally, fold in the last of the sugar and the chopped flowers.

Line a large baking sheet with non-stick baking parchment and spoon the mixture in eight well-spaced mounds (they’ll need a good 3cm between each).

Bake for 45 minutes, or until palest gold and dry and firm to the touch. Leave to cool on the paper.

Very carefully peel the meringues off the paper — they will be fragile. Turn upside down and spoon cream and primrose curd on the base. Decorate with more flowers, crystallised if you like.

Primrose curd


A generous handful of unsprayed washed primrose petals

450g sugar

450g Bramley apples

125g unsalted butter

4-5 large eggs

The zest and juice of 2 lemons

Day one: finely chop the primrose petals, place them with the sugar in a container and stir through the primrose flowers. Cover and leave for at least 24 hours (this will allow the flavours from the petals to be released into the sugar).

Day 2: peel and chop 450g of apples, put them into a pan with 100ml of water and the lemon zest. On the hob, gently cook the apple until it is yieldingly soft, then mash it into a purée.

One-third fill a pan with water and place a snug-fitting heat‑proof bowl on top of the pan. Add the apple, butter, lemon juice and primrose sugar mixture to the bowl. Heat the pan and stir the mixture until the butter has completely melted.

Turn off the heat and add the eggs to the mixture through a sieve. Stir the eggs in thoroughly with a balloon whisk.

Put the pan back on a gentle heat and stir the mixture for about 10 minutes, until it thickens. (It will thicken further as it cools.) Pour the curd into sterilised jars, seal immediately and store in the fridge, where it will keep for up to a month.

If you want to use the curd straight away, transfer the mixture to a wide bowl (ideally a stainless steel one) and sit in a larger bowl of iced water. Stir occasionally until cold.

Filming in the flowers

Last June  film makers from the BBC came and spent the day on our hill making an insert for a James Martins Home Comforts . It was well timed, the midsummer sun cast its warm glow on the billowing flowering stitchwort; earthy speedwell, honeyed clover and perfumed honeysuckle. The footpath by our house is an old drovers road and for hundreds of years people have beaten a path over the hill, breathing in the same perfumes, plucking berries from the same brambles and nibbling nuts from the same trees we now gather our finds.

After the days gathering and filming we headed to the local village hall for a wild supper to celebrate the flavours of early summer. Walterstone village hall used to be the local school, children that learnt there would’ve chewed on grass, suckled the nectar from honeysuckle and breathed in meadowsweet’s perfume while filling their stained mouths with wild strawberries plucked from the shady embankments that are etched  into the landscape around here. The flavours we use at Forage are inspired by the same tastes and smells the drovers and children from these hills experienced and loved. We are proud that our products are known for being delicious, but we are equally pleased to know that they celebrate the flavours of our very green and perfumed  lands.

We hope you enjoy this little film about Forage (It’s worth watching the whole progamme, but if you just want to see our bit, it’s 33 minutes into the programme)