Spring Arrives from the Ground Up
In most parts of Europe and North America, spring arrives with colors. Green returns to grey fields, and snow recedes upwards. In rural Korea, spring arrives with taste. Before forsythias and azaleas burst into full bloom, and even before most trees sprout their leaves, the hillsides are already offering sustenance.
This is the first thing that surprises foreigners visiting the Korean countryside in March and April: it’s the foraging culture. In the West, foraging for wild plants has become a specialized activity in recent years. It’s pursued by chefs, survivalists, and enthusiasts who take courses to learn what’s safe and unsafe. In rural Korea, it’s simply what people do in spring. Grandmothers who have done it for 60 years. Children learning by following them. Knowledge of which plants grow where, at what altitude, and in what kind of soil is passed down as naturally as recipes.
Sannamul — the mountain vegetables
Sannamul (산나물) refers to mountain greens (山菜). These are wild edible plants foraged from hillsides, forest edges, and streambanks. The spring Sannamul season typically runs from late February to May, with various species peaking at different times and altitudes.
Some of the most common:
- Gosari (고사리, bracken fern) — The young, unfurled fiddleheads are picked, dried, and used throughout the year. The aroma of gosari namul (seasoned bracken fern) is one of the characteristic scents of Korean cuisine.
- Dureup (두릅, aralia shoots) — These are the new shoots of the aralia tree. They have a slightly bitter taste and are blanched lightly, then eaten with doenjang (fermented soybean paste). They are considered one of the most prized early spring vegetables.
- Chwi (취, wild aster) — Several related species are foraged from forested hillsides. The most prized is chamchwi (참취, Aster scaber)**, known for its distinctive aroma and subtle bitterness. Gomchwi (곰취), with its bear’s paw-shaped leaves, grows on higher slopes and is considered a special delicacy due to its large, mild-flavored leaves. Both are lightly blanched and then seasoned with garlic and sesame oil, or dried for later use. The aroma of chwinamul dishes—herbal, green, and subtly bitter—is one of the defining scents of a Korean spring kitchen.
- Naengi (냉이, shepherd’s purse) — This small flowering plant grows on rice paddies and roadsides. It has a deep, earthy flavor and is used in soups and stir-fries. Its aroma is so unique that Koreans sometimes describe the scent of spring itself as the scent of naengi.
- Ssuk (쑥, mugwort) — Gathered when young, it’s used in rice cakes (tteok), soups, and teas. It is fragrant and slightly earthy. Spring tteok made with ssuk are green and aromatic.
- Dallae (달래, wild garlic) — Small and pungent, it’s found in damp soil near streambanks. It’s used raw in seasonings and kimchi.
Foraging for Sannamul is not a romantic activity. It requires early mornings, steep hills, and the ability to identify dozens of plants by sight. But it is also deeply communal. Neighbors compare their findings, share recipes, and distribute their hauls amongst themselves. In villages along the Boseong River, for example, the spring harvest from the hills is as common as buying vegetables from a store.
The blossoms
The order of spring blossoms in Korea is so distinctive that most Koreans can tell when a photo was taken just by seeing which flowers are in bloom.
Maesil kkot (매실꽃, plum/ume blossoms) are the first to bloom, sometimes as early as late February, even before most people are thinking of spring. They appear in white or pale pink, often against bare branches and grey skies. Maesil trees are cultivated throughout southern Korea—Boseong, Gwangyang—and their blossoms herald the start of the warm season.
Next, gaenari (개나리, forsythia) erupt in a vivid yellow along roadsides and cultivated hillsides in March. Forsythia is the most common spring shrub in Korea, lining almost every village path. Its yellow is intense, joyful, and impossible to ignore.
Immediately following, jindallae (진달래, azalea) blanket the upper hillsides in pinkish-purple. Korean azaleas grow wild on rocky, acidic slopes—hillsides that might otherwise be barren or scrubby. By April, from a distance, entire mountains appear to turn pink. Jindallae are edible. Their petals are used to make hwajeon (화전), pan-fried flower rice cakes, a traditional spring delicacy that connects eating with the seasons in a way most modern food cultures have lost.
What makes it different
In Western rural traditions, spring is primarily the season for sowing. It’s when the year’s work begins, a time for preparing the soil. In the Korean rural spring, there is also the work of foraging. The countryside first gives, then asks. The hillsides, rested through winter, suddenly yield their most abundant and delicious produce—for free—to anyone who knows where to look and takes the effort to climb.
There is a philosophically significant meaning to this. A culture that has foraged from the same hills for thousands of years relates to the land in a different way than one primarily focused on cultivation. The hills behind the village are not merely a landscape. They are a pantry. They are familiar. They hold memories.
At Daeheung Farm, located upstream from the Boseong River, spring Sannamul begin to sprout on the slopes above the farm starting in March. The Daeheung Spring also flows abundantly.