Amy Larsen / Lake Superior Magazine
This region’s famed wild rice isn’t rice at all, but the seed of an aquatic grass that flourishes across the clear lakes of northern Wisconsin and Minnesota. It is the only grain indigenous to North America, a key to the region’s rich history that still plays a significant role in the lives of the Ojibwe people.
Last year, I was invited to join a friend who rices annually (rice being both noun and verb here).
To find his rice camp on a shallow lake south of Ashland, I turned off a county highway onto a dirt road, the entrance obscured by brush, and parked at the narrowing path, then hiked into the soft, shade-dappled quiet of damp leaves and pine that opened to a shimmering lake. Two aluminum canoes rested on the sandy shore near a faded green Army tent and campfire ring strewn with dented aluminum pots. On mounds of what looked like grass clippings, red winged blackbirds dove and swooped, chattering and pecking out worms.
“That’s green rice, just harvested yesterday,” said Nick VanDerPuy, our host, radio journalist and forager. “We lay it out to dry in the sun before processing. The birds are helping to clean out the rice worms and spiders.”
Over the course of three weeks, Nick will haul in 200 pounds of green rice to hand process into 100 pounds of finished rice.
I picked up a brown stalk and peeled back the spiky shaft, revealing a chartreuse grain. After the green rice is completely dried, it’s parched (roasted) in huge kettles over an open fire and hulled in a rotating drum. Years ago, an adolescent male or young woman, wearing special moccasins, danced on the rice to remove the chaff; the practice continues in traditional ceremonies today. Finally, the rice is winnowed, tossed in the wind on big flat baskets, or set near huge fans, to separate the lighter chaff from the heavier kernels, then bagged.
This lake is protected from development by Wisconsin DNR and Great Lakes Indian Fish and Wildlife Commission (GLIFWC.org), so it’s not polluted by lawn fertilizer, septic runoff or motorboats that churn up the bottom and leak gasoline. We paddled the
canoe into a wavering field of tall prickly green stalks. Nick then stood to pole us forward with an old curtain rod, metal “duck bill” stuck on its end, while I took the slender birch sticks – knockers – to bend the stalks over the canoe, gently tap their tops, to send a rain of spiky husks, spiders and pale brown rice worms into the boat and over my legs.
“Careful, they bite,” Nick said. I wondered if he meant the worms, spiders or both.
The Ojibwe word manoomin means “good berry” or “good seed,” writes Thomas Vennum Jr. in Wild Rice and the Ojibway People, and the term may reflect the deeper meaning of this important food to suggest “good, right, well.” The Ojibwe migration story features the search for a homeland where food grows on water. That food was manoomin, and this area is the end of the migration.
Wild rice is extremely nutritious, with twice the protein of brown rice and far richer in vitamins than wheat, barley, oats or rye. It was the one staple at winter’s end when the food cache ran low and game and fish were scarce.
Wild rice swells to four times its size as it cooks, earning the name “pocket money” among early traders who realized how a handful could feed many hungry men. Natives serve it cracked and boiled into a healing gruel for babies, the elderly and infirm. It is present at important ceremonies, weddings, funerals and births.
Through the afternoon, our boat swished, sticks tap-tapping the stalks, the rice plinking on the aluminum bottom until the tinny sound softened as the rice and whatnot mounded up. We could see a few others across the water, all of us at the same methodical work, while fish jumped and plunked and geese honked across the sky.
Harvesting wild rice is limited to Minnesota and Wisconsin state residents who must first obtain an $8 license. On the reservations, such as White Earth where harvesting rice generates an annual income, residents enter a lottery that allocates permits for the tribe’s lakes and riverbeds. The White Earth Recovery Project processes the rice at a small mill in Callaway, Minnesota.
In the slant of the afternoon light, we pulled our canoes up on shore and spread the green rice out on canvas tarps. Later that fall, back in my Minneapolis kitchen, cooking this true wild rice was a revelation. It is totally unlike the cultivated varieties we find in shops along the northern routes that retail for about $6 a pound. That cultivated wild rice is black and shiny, requires an hour to cook, and can be tough and relatively flavorless. Though it may cost twice as much, true wild rice is a completely different food.
True wild rice cooks in just 15 to 20 minutes, its brownish black kernels are tender, with a rich, slightly nutty flavor of wood smoke and pine, reflecting the clear, clean lakes, autumn’s sun and soft breeze.
True wild rice tastes of its storied and glorious homeland.
Cooking Wild Rice
Real, hand-harvested wild rice cooks quickly, in 15 to 20 minutes, and has a wonderful woodsy, smoky flavor. It’s terrific in a pilaf with sautéed mushrooms or tossed into a salad with a sweet, rough vinaigrette. Once cooked, wild rice can be stored in the refrigerator for about a week or frozen for about six months. One full pound of wild rice yields 10 to 12 pounds of cooked rice, enough for 20 to 24 servings.
Ingredients (for 6 servings):
- 1c. wild rice
- 4c. water
- 1 tsp. salt
Instructions:
Wash the rice thoroughly by putting in a colander and running it under cold water. Turn the wild rice, water and salt into a large, heavy saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer 15 to 20 minutes until the rice has puffed and most of the liquid has been absorbed. Fluff with a fork, then let stand a few minutes before serving.
Wild Rice Pilaf with Dried Cherries and Walnuts
This pilaf is great with wild game, turkey and chicken. It may be made ahead and reheated, covered, in a low oven.
Serves 4 to 6
Ingredients:
- 1 Tbsp unsalted butter or walnut oil
- 2 shallots, peeled and minced
- 1/2 c. chicken or vegetable stock
- 1 orange zest grated
- 1/4 c. dried cherries
- 2 c. cooked wild rice
- To taste salt and freshly ground pepper
- 1/4 c. fresh parsley, chopped
- 1/4 c. walnuts, toasted and chopped
Instructions:
To toast walnuts: spread the walnut halves out on a baking sheet and toast in a preheated 350° F oven until they smell toasty, about 5 minutes. Remove and allow to cool. Chop them up.
In a deep skillet or heavy pot set over medium heat, melt the butter and sauté in the shallots until translucent. Add the stock, orange zest, cranberries and rice and toss, cooking until heated through, about 2 minutes. Toss in the parsley and serve topped with the walnuts.
Beth Dooley is a kayak guide, a cookbook writer and an all-around happy soul.