I had a bumper crop of nasturtiums this year. I don’t know why they grew in such abundance. We were away for two weeks and they still survived. I think that might be why I remember planting them when we were in kindergarten-they’re killproof. (Mark this down as a plant you might be able to grow next year if you lack the green thumb gene. A backup can be bamboo. That survived two weeks without water too.)
But somehow because we had so many, I remember having a conversation with someone-maybe my mother?-in my backyard:
“You know, nasturtiums are edible, right?” said the unknown woman in this conversation.
“I heard you can eat the flower” (me. I think I knew this part. I’m not big on eating flowers or floral tasting things)
“But, I think people use them to make capers……” and this is where it all gets fuzzy and all I have in my memory is “make capers. MAKE capers!’ (I barely use capers, I don’t know why this was so intriguing. But it stuck.)
So today I noticed my nasturtiums going to seed and there were millions of little seed pods everywhere. Cute little, caper-like seed pods. And that conversation came back to me and being the wannabe gardener/canner/food-maker that I am, I googled how to make capers while I envisioned my little guys picking up these seed pods like Easter eggs.
Like a little sign from the Goddess Earth Mother Nature Protector, I got:
Caper Tips and Poison Warning as my first hit.
And though a more thorough investigation proved that you probably actually may be able to make capers from nasturtiums, my inner superstitious hypochondriac will no longer let me try this out.
Let me know if you bravely try it and it works for you.
(PS school has not yet started here for us. I blame this for my lack of sanity. This should clear up next week. Thank goodness.)