Georgia Coast

Narrow Leaf Cattail, Typha angustifolia

Vegan cattail recipes:

Cattail-Wild Rice Pilaf

This recipe can be made with brown rice, but the wild rice adds a special dimension to it.

1 cup dry wild rice (4 cups cooked)
2 Tbsp sesame oil
½ cup chopped green onion
2 cups cattail shoots, sliced (about 30 cattails)
2 tsp salt
½ cup slivered almonds
1. Cook the wild rice until tender.
2. Sautee onion and cattail shoots in sesame oil until tender and translucent.
3. Mix the rice and the sautéd cattail shoots and onion together.
4. Add salt and slivered almonds.
5. Serve hot.

Source: http://wildfoodplants.com

Cattail Wild-Rice Soup

1 cup dry wild rice (4 cups cooked)

2 Tbsp sesame oil

 

½ cup chopped green onion

 

2 cups cattail shoots, sliced (about 30 cattails)

 

2 tsp salt

1. Cook the wild rice until tender.
2. In a heavy-bottomed soup pot sauté onion and cattail shoots in sesame oil until tender and translucent.
3. Add the cooked wild rice, salt and 4 cups of chicken broth or other soup stock of choice.
4. Simmer together for 15-20 minutes and serve.

Source: http://cattails.info/Cattail_Recipe.html

 

 

Sea Oats, Uniola paniculata

According to Georgia code 12-5-311, “It is unlawful for any person to cut, harvest, remove, or eradicate any of the grass commonly known as sea oats,” while tens of millions of dollars are spent on coastal development contracts on Jekyll Island’s fragile shore.

Georgia Beach
By Margaret Atwood

In winter the beach is empty
but south, so there is no snow.

Empty can mean either
peaceful or desolate.

Two kinds of people walk here:
those who think they have love
and those who think they are without it.

I am neither one nor the other.

I pick up the vacant shells,
for which open means killed,
saving only the most perfect,
not knowing who they are for.

Near the water there are skinless
trees, fluid, grayed by weather,
in shapes of agony, or you could say
grace or passion as easily.
In any case twisted.

By the wind, which keeps going.
The empty space, which is not empty
space, moves through me.

I come back past the marsh,
dull yellow and rust-colored,
which whispers to itself,
which is sad only to us.

Jekyll Island, Georgia