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Tomatillo Relish — Something to Put Up While the Wild Onions Are Still Fresh

Mid-March. Wild onion week, on schedule. The bottom by the creek is full of them — the small green tops poking up everywhere along the wet line, the bulbs underneath fat and ready. Hannah and I went down Saturday morning with knives and a bucket and we gathered for two hours. We came back with about six pounds of cleaned onions. The thirtieth wild onion gathering of my adult life if I count back, and the eighth on this property, and I have not gotten tired of it once.

Sunday we cooked. Wild onion eggs for Sunday breakfast — a half-pound of chopped onions wilted in bacon grease, then a dozen eggs scrambled in with the onions, served with bean bread. The smell of wild onions cooking is the smell of spring in this house. It is a smell I would die without. Hannah ate two helpings. I had three. The first wild onion meal of the year is always too big.

I dehydrated three pounds of the onions for use through the year. The rest we'll use fresh through the next two weeks. Hannah took two pounds to the Elohi office for a workshop she's leading. Some of the onions went into a pot of soup with venison and beans. Some went into a wild onion oil — gently warmed in olive oil for an hour, strained, jarred, refrigerated. The oil will be a finishing oil for stews and salads through summer.

Sunday afternoon River and Lucia came. They're here for what Lucia is calling the spring profile — soil samples plus a vegetation transect along the creek. They worked with notebooks and GPS for three hours. After they finished I made wild onion eggs for them too — late breakfast at three in the afternoon — and we sat at the kitchen table and Lucia talked about the soil samples she's been comparing across the year. She has a graph going. She showed it to me. The food forest soil is improving — measurable, statistically significant improvement in organic matter and soil microbial diversity year over year. Lucia said: this is a paper. River nodded. He said: it is. I said: write it. They will. The science is real. The land is real. The relationship between them is real and now there's a graph.

Caleb missed Saturday — he had a cooking-class field trip. They went to a meat processing plant in Inola. He texted me a picture from the trip: him in a hairnet, smiling. I sent back: looking good, chef. He sent back: shut up. He came Sunday instead, after River and Lucia had left. We had supper of wild onion stew and bean bread. He ate two bowls. He said: I learned how to break down a chicken this week. I said: tell me. He told me. He had the cuts right. He said: I want you to teach me to butcher a deer next year. I said: when you take your first deer, I'll teach you. He said: deal.

Making the wild onion oil this year — gently warming those onions in olive oil, straining it, jarring it up for summer — reminded me why I love this time of year so much: it’s the season for putting things up, for making something small and deliberate that you’ll reach for months from now. This tomatillo relish comes from that same impulse. It’s tangy and bright, it keeps well, and it finishes a bowl of venison stew or a plate of eggs in exactly the way a good condiment should — quietly, without taking over.

Tomatillo Relish

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 16 (about 2 cups)

Ingredients

  • 1 lb fresh tomatillos, husked and rinsed
  • 1 small white onion, finely diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 jalapeño, seeded and finely diced
  • 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
  • 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil

Instructions

  1. Prep the tomatillos. Quarter the husked, rinsed tomatillos. If they are very large, cut them into eighths. Pat dry with a paper towel.
  2. Roast or simmer. Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the tomatillos and cook, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until they soften and begin to break down and release their liquid.
  3. Add aromatics. Stir in the onion, garlic, and jalapeño. Cook another 5–7 minutes until the onion is translucent and everything is fragrant.
  4. Season and reduce. Add the vinegar, lime juice, sugar, cumin, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the relish thickens slightly and most of the liquid has cooked off.
  5. Finish and cool. Remove from heat. Stir in the fresh cilantro. Taste and adjust salt and lime juice as needed. Let cool to room temperature before jarring.
  6. Store. Transfer to a clean jar with a tight-fitting lid. Refrigerate for up to 2 weeks. Use as a finishing condiment on eggs, stews, grilled meats, or bean dishes.

Nutrition (per serving, approximately 2 tablespoons)

Calories: 18 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 1g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 75mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 450 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

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