How Witches Hair Lichen is the New Superfood Black Metal Foodies Can Dig
Embrace Witches Hair, the black lichen superfood with iron and nutty vibes. Make goth bread, dark jellies, and steamy feasts with wild meat. Get weird and delicious in the kitchen.
![How Witches Hair Lichen is the New Superfood Black Metal Foodies Can Dig](/content/images/size/w1200/2024/01/A-close-up-photo-of-Witches-Hair-lichen.jpg)
Forget kale chips and avocado toast, fam, there's a new superfood in town, and it's got more black metal vibes than a goth picnic. Introducing Witches Hair, a.k.a. Horse Hair, a.k.a. Bryoria fremontii, the black tree lichen that's as edible as it is goth AF.
Yes, you read that right. This isn't your grandma's spinach. We're talking about dangling fungus dreadlocks that grow wilder than a mosh pit at a Goblin concert. But don't let the name fool you. Witches Hair packs a nutritional punch with iron and a nutty sweetness that'll put your almonds to shame.
But first, a word of caution because in the lichen world, things get real dark real fast. Our hairy friend has a toxic cousin, Bryoria tortuosa, that'll leave you wishing you'd stuck to kale. So, unless you're a certified lichen whisperer, proceed with caution.
Now, with that disclaimer out of the way, let's get weird and cooky! Imagine this: drying and grinding Witches Hair into flour to make flatbread so black it's practically goth communion wafers. Or boiling it into a thick, dark jelly, a travel food so badass it would make Bear Grylls weep in admiration. Picture steaming it with wild meat and berries, the juices creating a jelly-like gravy that's sweet and smoky.
This, my friends, is culinary anarchy. It's pushing the boundaries of what we think can be eaten, embracing the dark side of the pantry. And who knows, maybe Witches Hair will become the next Instagram darling, the star of smoothie bowls and latte art. Just imagine the hashtags: #WitchesHairDontCare, #LichenLife, #GothGourmet.
So next time you're hiking in the woods and stumble upon these hanging fungal tendrils, don't recoil in horror. Embrace the weird, the wild, the utterly delicious. Remember, there's magic in the unknown, and who knows, Witches Hair might just be the next culinary revolution, one bite of black, nutty goodness at a time.
Just promise me one thing: if you do whip up a Witches Hair feast, you'll at least let me be your sous chef. I mean, who can resist the allure of cooking with something that looks like it crawled out of a Tim Burton movie? Now pass the lichen salt, fam, it's time to get freaky.