In conversation with Tomáš Reisinger: What does the job of a professional forager look like?

Tomáš, where did you learn to see wild herbs as a raw material in the kitchen?

I got into collecting at the Zum Andreas Hofer restaurant, where Tyrolean cuisine was cooked. They prided themselves on tradition and regionality, and considered picking herbs as part of the chef's job. It was then that the combination of cooking and collecting started to make sense to me, and I also learned how diverse cuisine can be even within a small country like Austria. It's as if I had my eyes closed until then.

I was educated in Hloubětín during the totalitarian era and I knew I had to leave the Czech Republic. I didn't see any prospects for myself here. I wanted to cook creatively, not according to norms that seemed too restrictive. So after the war I went to Denmark, from there to Germany and finally settled in Vienna. It was only there that I really learned my craft! I remember at the Wieselburger Bierinsel restaurant they were amazed that the Czech cook didn't know how to cook Znojmo.

At what point did you become a forager?

I've been picking since 1998, but for a long time I called myself just a chef. When I returned home, I cooked in Alcron and a few other addresses, but the Czech gastro scene at that time showed no interest in wild herbs. It was only in Semice at the Na Jitrách restaurant, which I ran as a chef, that I put them on the menu.

The revolution was definitely brought about by Eska in Karlin. I worked there for some time and helped spread awareness among the guests, but especially among the professionals. I dare say we were one of the first to cook with wild fruits on a regular basis. A lot has changed since then - the demand for "weed" is on the rise, and I'm also hearing from more and more chefs who would like to go into the field with me.

What do they learn from you?

First and foremost, I talk about respect and humility. Most cooks have a basic understanding, but we still need to remind ourselves that there are poisonous herbs growing around us and confusion can be dangerous. There are still those of us who mistake bear garlic for lily of the valley or aronia. Other times, people pick up only sketchy information. An example is acacia. The older leaves and bark are not harvested, but the young leaves and flowers are edible. And good!

Anyone who wants to collect must have botanical knowledge. You certainly can't just go by what the plant looks like, many species, such as the merlings, have a lot of variation. That's why I'm also interested in the habitat and notice different signals, such as intense bitterness. Sometimes they indicate that the plant is inedible or too old. Plants communicate with us through taste and smell. All you have to do is pay attention. It is just as important to remember the dosage - even a medicinal herb can hurt in large quantities.

Do you advise pros on how to deal with herbs?

Cooks don't like that very much. The ones I work with, though, thankfully appreciate it when I provide a little inspiration with their order. I like to do that. I think it's a shame to look at herbs as just a garnish that has no function other than decorative. I'm not saying that they should be the main thing on the plate, but it is a full-fledged ingredient that complements the dish in terms of taste and nutrition - provided that the cook knows the potential of the herb. For example, marjoram only gains expression when it is dried or pickled in oil.

What do you face as a restaurant supplier?

Sometimes I have to explain that I am not a grower, but a gatherer, which makes it all the more necessary for the kitchen to adapt to me and what is currently growing. It just doesn't work the other way around. It bothers me when a restaurant asks for a certain herb in a certain quantity just when it's either just growing or nearing the end of its harvest. For me and the chef, it's definitely better to wait for the peak of the season and find the ideal method to keep the herbs in stock.

Alma's chef Petr Židek and I are putting together a seasonal calendar and I have to admit, it's not nearly as easy as I thought. I've been keeping a record of what I pick when for a long time, but the course of the season is more erratic every year. For the last few years I feel like the mild spring phase is fading away and the high temperatures come straight after winter, which logically affects the growing season of the plants. Life is one of constant change, and nature shows us this today and every day.

How is your collecting season going?

I am most busy in the spring and over the summer when buds, flowers and seeds are gradually collected. From autumn to December, mostly only roots are up for grabs. I take a break in January, otherwise I more or less don't stop. In the summer, it's a daily grind. I get up around 3.30 in the morning and go foraging around the area. I choose the location according to what I want to find, but I also stick to the driving distance. Time doesn't allow me to go further than the Central Bohemia region or the outskirts of Liberec.

Around 8:00 I arrive home, put the herbs in the cooler and continue after breakfast - in the morning I usually go for water herbs or go exploring. By noon at the latest, I pack up what I've collected and head to Alma. They've hired me as a full-time backyard picker. On the way, I tie up other restaurants so I have the afternoon to work on processing the herbs.

What technique or plant has caught your eye this year?

This year I've enjoyed pickling à la capers and pickling with different vinegars, kombuchas or miso paste. The possibilities are endless. It's just a matter of not being afraid to experiment and explore how an herb develops flavor and what it's good to combine it with. At Alma, we pickled begonia capers, as well as green poppy buds that looked like black olives after a few weeks. They taste great!

I hang around cooks who are enthusiastic and come up with their own ideas. I like to take inspiration from them, even if sometimes I do beat myself up. One time I vowed to get a pitch of cherries for dessert. Little did I know I wouldn't pick more than 150 grams in half a day. Imagination is important in cooking, and so is a partnership with nature, which gives us so much more than the scented marigolds and bear garlic that have already been mentioned. This is what makes the restaurant's menu indistinguishable from the competition.

How wide is the nature menu?

Culinarily, we can use up to 250 species of wild herbs. However, the diversity is changing, and this is due to the climate and man, who is having a much greater impact on the environment today. Moreover, plants, like people, are moving around the world and crowding each other out. It is therefore difficult to determine which herbs are purely Central European in origin. At first glance, I can only think of nettle or nettle, which have been with us since the Paleolithic.

In particular, it is mainly Mediterranean herbs that have been moving into central Europe for centuries, and then various invasive species that sometimes threaten the native ones. A well-known invasive plant is the buttercup, but theoretically, the Jerusalem artichoke could also be classified as such. Some of the herbs of my youth are almost non-existent in the Czech region, such as chamomile. Instead, however, there is, for example, five-leaved lovage, or dog wine, which I would not have come across years ago.

So you still have a lot to explore...

I do. Every year I learn about a new herb or find a way to make use of a part of it that doesn't yet have a wider use in the kitchen. Recently, I picked green seeds from a flowering ivy - pickled them, fermented them, and preserved them. The result was worth it. However, I often cite the young buds of poplar trees, which are eaten as peas or preserved, as the greatest discovery of the last two years. I'm discovering possibilities I haven't listed anywhere, and that's the beauty of it - once a picker gets in touch with nature, he finds inspiration mainly in its proximity.

Aren't you tempted to return to your fellow chefs?

I don't feel like a rondon anymore. I'm running low on energy. I prefer to pass on my experience and enjoy the growing number of businesses that work with 'wildlife' as a vegetable. I wish chefs would educate themselves more, and most importantly - convince themselves that it's all about if they really want to. I had to travel abroad at the time to learn that an open mind is the key. That's the only way you can move forward in the direction you have set for yourself.