Quick Takes With: Marie Viljoen

South African-born, Brooklyn-based writer Marie Viljoen is our resident weed queen, a professional forager who, in her words, “serves up portable, wild-inspired picnics to lure people into the wonder of urban green spaces several times a month.” She is also an avid gardener (with a background in garden design) and, lucky for us, a longtime Gardenista contributor. For the past 10 years, she’s written eloquently on everything from her mother’s lush, rambling garden in Cape Town and her own small but mighty terrace garden in New York City, to foraging for dandelion leaves in the spring and hunting for wood ear mushrooms in the fall. Oftentimes, at the end of these stories, she treats us to one of her simple but genius recipes starring the fruits of her foraging. (Thanks to her, we will never look at mugwort the same way.)

The author of two must-read books, 66 Square Feet: A Delicious Life, One Woman, One Terrace, 92 Recipes and Forage, Harvest, Feast: A Wild-Inspired Cuisine, Marie, below, shares her thoughts on potted cacti (meh), basil (yay), and more.

Photography by Marie Viljoen, unless otherwise noted.

Your first garden memory:

Planting big fat seeds in the patch of garden my mother assigned to me when I was about four.

Garden-related book you return to time and again:

Andrea Wulf’s The Brother Gardeners. She writes incredibly well, so there’s that, but I am also fascinated by the story of how North American plants became established in Europe. Our black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia), for example, is Europe’s “acacia” (the one that honeybees turn into pale, expensive honey). She writes how the warm colors of American trees and shrubs like maples and sumac transformed and lit up the autumnal European landscape.

And Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass. It resonates with me on so many levels, in terms of how she views a landscape and plants; and it informs me, too, of Native traditions that have been lost, suppressed, or extinguished. She crafts words exceptionally well. I have just pre-ordered her new book, The Serviceberry.

Instagram account that inspires you:

The Wild Bird Fund @wildbirdfund. They care for injured and sick New York birds—everything from pigeons to the most unusual, migratory visitors who have crashed into windows and onto sidewalks. I find birds extraordinary and uplifting, and feel that they are a vestige of the planet as it once was—these ancient pathways over us that they still follow, despite every obstruction we have thrown up in their way. Their posts are very clever, because they focus on the positive outcomes while educating about the large and small challenges that wild birds face daily.

Describe in three words your garden aesthetic.

Contained. Exuberant. Functional.

Plant that makes you swoon:

Most plants makes me swoon. But it is always thrilling to see plants in their native habitats. I was ridiculously excited to identify mastic in the Calanques (Provence, France) earlier this year. I mistook it for sumac, and they are in the same family. [See Spring in Provence: Foraging and Botanizing in the Calanques.]

Plant that makes you want to run the other way:

Potted cacti? But then you meet an exception and are sorry you answered that question. It’s all about where they are and how they are used.

Favorite go-to plant:

If I was threatened and told I could choose one plant, or else? Basil. I usually grow three or four varieties. All basils smell good, taste wonderful, are long-lasting in a vase, and are loved by pollinators.

Hardest gardening lesson you’ve learned:

Don’t overwater.

Unpopular gardening opinion:

Grow common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) and then eat it. It’s an extraordinary native vegetable. Unpopular because everyone screams, “The monarchs!” It’s about sharing (with the monarchs, whose caterpillars feed on milkweed leaves). Some for them, some for you.

Gardening or design trend that needs to go:

Trends in general make me itch. I tend to veer in the opposite direction if I see one coming.

Old wives’ tale gardening trick that actually works:

Can we call them Old Husband’s Tales? Hmm. I can’t think of one. Not the pebbles as “drainage” in the bottom of a a container. (Not a good idea.) Perhaps not watering roses at night. It may encourage mildew or black spot.

Favorite way to bring the outdoors in.

It’s literal: I bring my potted citrus trees indoors for winter and it’s like living in a greenhouse. I love it. Otherwise, I feel our home isn’t alive unless there are fresh flowers in it. Either collected in wild places, or bought from local growers. In fall I love picking weeds like pokeweed berries, mugwort, and Queen Anne’s lace for big, blousy vasefuls.

Every garden needs a…

Gardener. The person growing the plants needs to show up on a regular basis. It’s the best way to see what works and to learn from the plants themselves. Every garden also needs a (regularly cleaned) birdbath. It’s better than TV.

Favorite hardscaping material:

Not exactly hardscaping, but I like to use birch poles for trellises. They last a few years and gradually give way as they soften, attracting leafcutter bees that like to nest in them, and also woodpeckers (which might be after the bees!). Turkey tail mushrooms grow on some of them, and when I replace the poles I keep the softer ones behind my pots to encourage a little biodiversity, since I garden organically.

Tool you can’t live without:

My Felcos and a sharp hori.

Go-to gardening outfit:

Whatever I happen to be wearing. There’s definitely no special outfit.

Favorite nursery, plant shop, or seed company:

The Gowanus Nursery was my favorite in Brooklyn, before Michele Palladino moved to Connecticut. Lots of native and also hard-to-find plants. She introduced me to the herb papalo (Porophyllum ruderale), and was the only local source of South African milkweed I love, balloon plant (Gomphocarpus physocarpous). I like Companion Plants in Ohio and Strictly Medicinal Seeds in Oregon for some unusual edible plants, like kencur (Kaempferia galanga) and myoga, and Four Winds Growers for citrus trees.

On your wishlist:

I would like to grow pawpaw (Asimina triloba) trees, but must wait for an in-ground garden. They have tap roots, and need room to roam.

Not-to-be-missed public garden/park/botanical garden:

I’m biased, as a South African but Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden in Cape Town. It’s just a short, 16-hour flight from New York!

The REAL reason you garden:

Gardening makes me feel well in a way that little else does. It is a necessary urban refuge, certainly, but it is also a space where small acts of attention have practical, tangible results, like herbs—conventional or very unusual—for my cooking adventures, or flowers for pure pleasure. And it’s a laboratory, where I find out whether ramps can be grown in backyards (yes), and pots (yes), or common milkweed in a vegetable plot (also, yes, as long as you don’t expect straight rows). In our current apartment, I just have to take a few steps to gather fresh bay leaves, myoga buds (in late fall), or rose petals to add to my always-in-progress gulkand. The birds, bees, and other insects (and occasional, burly raccoons!) that are attracted to this small space are also a daily source of pleasure and a small but meaningful counterweight to personal or global pain.

Thanks so much, Marie! (You can follow her on Instagram @marie_viljoen and learn more about her walks and forage picnics here.)