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Green Spring
There’s a herb that grows spontaneously throughout the lagoon. It comes with a sensual name filled with Ss and Ls… her middle name meaning tight in Italian.
She is a good looking herb. With long succulent leaves resembling strands of thick hair, so plump I can’t resist squeezing them between my fingers as she lies on the kitchen counter.
Salsola soda is alive, meaty, almost a sea creature in disguise.
One plant, many names:
agretti, roscano, capelli del diavolo, salsola, barba del negus, senape dei frati, bacicci, lischi o barba di frate…
opposite-leaved saltwort, opposite leaf Russian thistle, barilla plant…
In spring, Venetian cuisine is more veggie-friendly than one might think. Wild greens are foraged and sold for a short amount of time and we love them in risottos, lasagnas, pasticcios, frittatas or simply sautéed and dressed in olive oil, lemon and garlic.
Among such herbs, agretti (salsola soda) may be the most underrated. Which is a pity, and not only because she’s actually delicious, but mostly because of the role she played in the lagoon.
Over the centuries, she’s lent her sensuality to the beautiful glass of Murano, giving added clarity and sparkle to the masterfully crafted pieces. Like a phoenix, she was burnt to ashes and reborn, through the furnace, into shimmering blown glass1.
Beautiful and generous, she was also transformed into soap, for which purpose it was farmed extensively until the world thought better to spin a little faster, and all of a sudden her services were needed no more.
In the ghetto, Venetian Jews have consumed salsola soda as a typical spring Shabbat vegetable. While looking for a dedicated recipe online, I also found out that the Jewish community in Rome shares the same habit.
Nowadays, salsola soda grows naturally in bushes on the sandy banks of the lagoon. Alas, her marine bliss lasts only until someone decides to pick her up, roots and all, and turn it into a garlicky side dish.
How to prepare salsola soda
I’ve searched far and wide for a recipe that could convey and represent the story of this beautiful green lady, but all I got was a frittata and a pasta dish. I consider both bland and boring. So, I decided to go back to the basics and cook it intuitively, as any home cook in the Veneto region would naturally do, without overthinking. It’s green, it’s grassy, so it’s got to be garlic, olive oil and lemon.
METHOD: the softest and freshest fronds are picked out from the bunches, then washed and tossed in a pan with olive oil, garlic and a little water. They deflate slowly with a lid on, then they rest until cold in a steel bowl. A generous squeeze of lemon is required before she takes place at the table.
People don't go crazy over salsola, but I do. She’s got the taste of a rebellious spinach - herbaceous, a little salty, not the kind of greens one finds frozen in a bag. The look and consistency are fun, resembling thin capelli d’angelo but in vegetable form. So, I roll my fork in and lift the juiciest green bundle. Buon appetito.
Links
A brief history of the Venetian ghetto cuisine (Italian/English) - a downloadable pdf, short and interesting, written by a recognized authority in the field of Venetian cuisine & history.
Hazana Jewish Vegetarian Cooking, a cookbook by Paola Gavin that I just received. There is not a single recipe in here I don’t look forward to trying. Paola Gavin (about whom not much is written), has also published books on Italian and French vegetarian food.
I won’t be travelling until October, this year, but for those of you planning a trip to Italy soon, do check out Gillian’s brilliant guide to purchasing the best souvenirs in Rome. Most tips are applicable to any city in Italy, and I’d recommend getting a pretty tin box of local biscotti to those who will be walking the calli of Venice.
The Best Food Movie Scenes on YouTube - I’ve had covid for almost two weeks between April and the beginning of May. This YouTube video kept me entertained for 40 minutes straight (hey, bed-rest is boring) and inspired me to add a few movies to a long list of “must watch”.
About me
My name is Sinù Fogarizzu and I’m a vegetarian food writer from the mainland of Venice, Italy. In 2021, I launched Dash of Prosecco, a Substack newsletter about learning to cook, identity and Venetian cuisine. I’m on Instagram & Twitter.
The ashes of salsola soda (saltwort) are rich in soda carbonate, an inorganic compound used in glass and soap making. It is said that utilizing the ashes from salsola soda was the secret to the particularly clear glass of Murano. The French and English equivalent would be glasswort (samphire) which instead would give the glass a green tint. The Wikipedia entry for Glasswort gives lots of information about the uses and history of glasswort and saltwort, including a Turkish recipe (similar to the one in this post) and a story about Venetian glass masters moving to England in the 16th century and using samphire instead of salsola to produce blown glass. (See pinned comment below)
This is the wiki entry for glasswort or, as we would call it in the UK now, samphire. Not quite the same plant, though related, and used for the same things. There's also a reference to Venetian glassworkers coming to England and finding this plant to use. The Turkish salad at the end is almost exactly your recipe!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glasswort
Ok, first off can I just say that I love how you described the name of this herb?! My background is in linguistics and sometimes I latch onto a word just because I love how it sounds!
I’m like you, I think a simple preparation of food is sometimes best. I definitely wasn’t always like this; living in Spain is rubbing off on me! Your suggestion of pairing the salsola with olive oil, garlic, and a bit of lemon sounds delicious.
And thanks for sharing the links; I’m bookmarking that video for a rainy day!