Uncultivated Greens: Reawakening Forgotten Food Traditions

It was ten years ago on a hot summer afternoon in Telangana when Satyamma, my mentor, took me to gather gangabai kura or purslane (Portulaca oleracea), which she later cooked into a delicious lentil curry with millet bread. As I ate, I noticed the succulent leaves of the gangabai kura melting into the lentils, imparting a slightly tangy flavor. As she foraged greens under the scorching heat, I vividly remember Satyamma’s description of traditional summer menus showcasing gangabai kura‘s ability to cool the body. It was my first time eating greens that I knew as weeds. This marked the beginning of my journey to forage for the many cousins of these uncultivated greens.

Ten years later, I was standing in Sarjapura. Surrounded by buildings and high-tech farms, Sharda Teacher and Suresh were foraging for anne soppu or cockscomb (Celosia argentea), uttareni or devil’s horsewhip (Achyranthes Aspera), and chenchal koora (Digera muricata) from the ragi (finger millet, eleusine coracana). Every year from July to September, Sharda visits the ragi farm to forage for uncultivated greens. As Sharda forages, she generously shares knowledge about the various medicinal properties of the plants and their heirloom recipes. She adds her harvest to her sambar, a South-Indian lentil-based stew, or cooks berike soppu. As September arrives, the ragi grass grows taller, making the fields inaccessible. Like Sharda and Satyamma, many women in the Southern states of India practice foraging. Land-based food traditions are integral to their culture. Today, urbanization and conventional farming seriously threaten this age-old practice.

Sharda, along with other women near Sarjapura, are part of a local initiative run by Suresh, called Sarjapura Curries. The small border town of Sarjapura hosts a diversity of languages influenced by the surrounding states of Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, and Andhra Pradesh. Just twenty-three kilometers from Bangalore, South India’s fastest-growing city, Sarjapura has witnessed rampant urbanization in the last decade. As you travel towards Sarjapura, your eyes are met with an uncommon sight in the Indian landscape – the horizon of industrial complexes, dotted with lush green farmlands; the latter of which are disappearing. It is in this chaotic backdrop that Suresh is reawakening the tradition of foraging uncultivated greens.

Sarjapura Curries began as a manifestation of various events in Suresh’s life. As a traveling artist, Suresh would return home to his daughter, who was often in poor health. As he looked for healthy foods to heal his daughter, the guilt of losing his late mother’s recipes of uncultivated greens led him to start Sarjapura Curries. Suresh had watched his community abandon harvesting and cooking uncultivated greens. He began Sarjapura Curries as an art project; involving his community (mostly women), with whom he began documenting and reviving foraging. Today, Suresh grows an acre of diverse native vegetables on rented land. In a landscape fraught with tall buildings and sterile flower, silkworm, and poultry farms, Suresh’s regenerative farm stands out as a dynamic organism. He has successfully returned to traditional integration farming and hosts a multitude of animals ranging from Kadaknath poultry to goats and rabbits.

When COVID-19 struck India, Suresh began selling his organic produce to customers in Sarjapura and the nearby town Hosur. He offers mixed green bags at the price of thirty rupees. Its contents are uncultivated greens foraged daily from the farm, like the tender shoots and flowers of gourd vines. Pumpkin and bottle gourds create a vast canopy of vines from which he picks. Each bag is an attempt to re-introduce forgotten greens back into local food culture.

“Different communities who live around this region consumed these leaves. Foraged greens have always been part of the diet of the different communities living here. Today they have either forgotten about it or stopped eating it as it is no longer accessible. Tender gourd shoots and flowers require little tending and reduce my labor. I can focus on other aspects of developing the farm and sell these to keep me financially stable,” shares Suresh.

Sarjapura Curries began as a platform for uncultivated greens reawakening. Today, it practices regenerative agriculture, grows food as communal artwork, and supports local food systems. The region was well irrigated by the surrounding lakes despite the decreasing rates of rainfall. Nearby lakes and fallow land have been encroached upon by the real estate industry. These lakes are the lifeline of the region, providing water for traditional farms. A proposal from the Karnataka state government aims to rejuvenate these lakes with treated sewage water from Bangalore. The project has been well-received by local communities. Suresh, however, believes the project would be detrimental to traditional foraging. He claims that this is the natural cycle of the lake; such that it fills in the monsoon season and dries up in the summer.

In summer, the dried lake bed is host to various vital activities: the desilting and use of the lake bed for farming, livestock grazing, and most importantly, foraging summer greens. The fertile lake bed is a food source for many marginalized communities who depend on common lands for their food. The government’s project will ensure that the lakes remain full throughout the year, interfering with the lake’s natural cycle and its neighboring communities. Filling the lakes with treated sewage water does not address the larger issues of climate change and the overconsumption of resources. The project will only hasten the decline of foraging culture.

Suresh has joined other youth in the region to protest issues related to land use and real estate. Riding around on his decade-old scooter, Suresh shows me different industrialized farms and lakes filled with the sewage water. “People think reviving forgotten foods is only about growing traditional vegetables and selling them. What they don’t realize is that we need constant engagement at every level of the system,” emphasizes Suresh. In this landscape, I began to see the enormity of Suresh’s movement.

Once COVID-19 restrictions ease, Suresh envisions opening a canteen that serves traditional recipes and a weekly organic farmers’ market. He hopes to inspire local farmers to shift to organic farming. He strongly believes the lack of reliable markets for organic produce is a major reason farmers have shifted to commercial farming. In an era in which knowledge systems are being patented at an alarming rate, Suresh gives credit to the women who shared their knowledge with him. “It is all archived in my head, I am just too lazy to document it. It would be great if someone could codify all this knowledge before it ceases to exist,” he says jovially. Making a mental note to revisit Sarjapura Curries to chronicle Suresh’s narratives further, I leave Sarjapura with a bag full of foraged greens and a heart full of inspiration to continue my work reawakening the tradition of uncultivated greens.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: “What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not been discovered yet or have been forgotten.”

Thinking back on the first time I foraged for gangaibai kura with Satyamma in 2012, I remember how astonished I was to see that something that I considered a “weed” was being harvested and cooked. The flavors of her dish still linger in my memory. To my surprise, I was never able to replicate the dish again.

Uncultivated greens play an unconventional role in the modern agricultural system, where everything is categorized according to their marketability as opposed to their utility.

In India, traditional agriculture filled nutritional needs because it was based on mixed cropping. Millets, pulses, oilseeds, vegetables, edible uncultivated greens — all share the same space, water, time, pests, and labor. Yesudas (farmers) used a wide variety of organic techniques including composting, indigenous varieties, crop rotations, intercropping, incorporating legumes, and natural pest control.

British colonization saw extensive change in agricultural patterns in the Indian Subcontinent. Farmers were compelled to grow cash crops such as cotton, indigo, and opium for export markets, resulting in increased poverty and a reduction in land fertility. Today, though most of the landscape is industrial, you can still find pockets of farms that practice  traditional mixed cropping.

India witnessed the Green Revolution in the 1950s. It changed the way agriculture was approached. Agriculture became associated with chemical fertilizers, agrochemicals, controlled water supply, and mechanization. All of these were seen as a ‘package of practices’ to supersede ‘traditional’ technology and to be adopted as a whole. This shift in agricultural practices introduced the concept of ‘weeds’ to the Indian agricultural landscape. Uncultivated plants, an integral part of the ecosystem of a farm, were seen as ‘unwanted plants’ because they competed with the cultivated plants for their nutrients, sunlight, and water. With the introduction of ‘weeds’ as part of the modern agricultural system, uncultivated greens were seen as a nuisance. This meant the weeds had to be dealt with, and it changed the way uncultivated greens were understood as food.

Traditional agriculture in the sub-continent includes foraging uncultivated greens. This is the source of nutrient security for marginalized communities living off the land. According to Suresh, millet farming often follows mixed farming which grows uncultivated greens alongside the main crop. Traditionally, farmers keep the weeds at bay by harvesting the uncultivated greens, adding diversity and value to their kitchens throughout the year. However, as the demand for millet rises, many farmers abandon organic practices and use herbicides on the native vegetative growth.

Wild edible plants are often used as herbs in folk medicine. They carry both nutrient and medicinal value. In a webinar on uncultivated foods organized by the Alliance for Sustainable and Holistic Agriculture (ASHA), Salome Yesudas notes that the consumption of uncultivated greens delays absorption of carbohydrates and fats, increasing the satiety value. They are equally important for proper bowel function and reducing chronic constipation.

Foraging has always been an act of asserting food sovereignty. It connected the forager to their land, biodiversity, and traditional knowledge. India is witnessing a rise in awareness around wild, uncultivated foods. Various festivals are popping up in celebration. The rise in awareness can be seen as a double-edged sword. An increase in awareness will help us understand the rich biodiversity and food heritage we have; however, we also risk appropriation and over-consumption of these uncultivated foods.

As the sun sets on the urban horizon, I walk with Suresh through the ragi field, listening to his stories and foraging for tomorrow’s greens. I notice women foraging in the neighboring fields. I feel assured of a revolution rising amongst us, giving us hope for a future where perhaps not all is lost.