In my quest for wild edibles, I dredged up a distant memory of my friend Julia telling me about a morel she had once found at her weekend place nearby. So I headed over there, still dreaming of a big score. Her house has been closed up all winter long and as I drove up a big, fat groundhog scurried across the lawn. She has a beautiful piece of land that slopes down to a brook, now swollen from all the rains. Plenty of skunk cabbage along the bank, a favorite snack for bears. No sign of morels, sadly, though I did find a nice patch of stinging nettles. They must be picked and handled with care—heavy gloves do the trick—as the stems and undersides of the lovely, heart-shaped leaves are covered with fine spines that release irritating formic acid upon contact (like the sting you get from fire ants and bees). Nettles are surprisingly high in protein and deliver lots of calcium, magnesium, iron and potassium, among other vitamins and minerals. For millennia, they have been prized for their anti-inflammatory properties. Their delightful green color and spinach-y flavor makes a wonderful spring soup. And the skull pictured above? Stay tuned for an episode of CSI: Sullivan County.
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photos by george billard

It's been two months since we closed the door on the Bowery loft and made the move up to our little 1935 cedar-shingle cottage in Sullivan County. I moved to New York City on June 6th, 1985, right after graduating from Harvard. I remember seeing Rubén Blades at the Village Gate that first night in town. It was quite a wild ride for nearly 25 years (with a 4-year hiatus in Los Angeles), but the time just felt right for something else. G and I had been spending increasingly more time upstate, and loving it. To date—and winter has not kicked in yet—I have no regrets. Living in nature is magical, inspiring, relaxing. I was working for Johnson & Johnson last year on the launch of a new product and came across some research that said just being in nature reduces stress. Your eye alights upon a wildflower or a monarch butterfly or a bald eagle—not on a homeless person or dog poop or a steaming manhole. Don't get me wrong, I love the city. It's just that this suits me fine right now. A couple of days ago, when our nature-loving friend Philip was visiting from the city, we went to check out the nearby Basha Kill. This beautiful wildlife preserve lies in the valley between the Shawagunks and the Catskills, once inhabited by Native Americans and then, in the 1700s, by European settlers.
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