This is the time of the year, late April and early May, when my Dad and we three Scheckel boys, Phillip, Bob, and I, would pile in the Chevrolet pickup truck and drive down into Kettle Hollow to harvest some watercress.
The 238-acre Scheckel farm was near the highest point in Crawford County, a few miles northwest of Seneca. The farm buildings were conveniently located in the middle of the acreage, but there was an extension that poked down into the Kettle Hollow valley. Kettle Creek started up on Oak Grove Ridge on the Reed farm and meandered down some six miles and emptied into the Mississippi River three miles north of Lynxville (population 125 if everyone is home). We called it “Kettle Crick,” but the maps say “Kettle Creek.” We ran, actually grazed, 25-30 head of cattle all summer down in Kettle Crick.
Our tools were scissors and milk pails. Dad parked the truck on Kettle Hollow Road about a half mile from where it empties into the Mississippi River. We went to the same spot every year, walking a hundred yards to the stream. It’s a most beautiful time of the year, when trees are leafing out, and the hillsides take on that light green hue.
Watercress grows right along the banks. The snipping begins. Hold the top of the watercress leaves in one hand and cut the stalks a few inches below the waterline. Start filling the milk pails. The leaves of watercress are feathery and divided. They’ll grow six inches high if not cut sooner.
Watercress was a salad for the Scheckel table and lots was needed. There were nine Scheckel children and six at any one time, as the older ones were out of the house and on their own, and the younger ones came along. It took a half hour for the four of us to fill four milk pails with watercress. The only preparation needed was to wash it under the faucet before being brought to the table.
I will not mention the time I fell into Kettle Crick, getting too close to the edge and not being careful. On the trek back to the pickup, we would pick some skunk cabbage. Not to eat, mind you, but to rub it between our fingers. Yes, it smells just like a skunk. It’s one of the first plants to emerge in Springtime. Skunk cabbage had large leaves and grows close to the ground.
Later, we boys learned at our Oak Grove one-room country school, on the Wisconsin School of the Air program, Afield with Ranger Mac, that Native Americans used skunk cabbage to treat respiratory diseases, nervous disorders, and rheumatism.
In the late 1940s and 1950s, we didn’t realize that we were eating a superfood. A recent article in the Saturday Evening Post claims that watercress is, according to the CDC, the healthiest vegetable in the world. Researchers at William Paterson University analyzed 47 fruits and vegetables and ranked them on a 100-point scale based on their nutrient density. Watercress was the only vegetable to earn a perfect score. Watercress beat out beet greens and spinach.
Quoting from the article, “Powerhouse fruits and vegetables are strongly associated with reduced chronic disease risk, which includes cardiovascular and neurodegenerative diseases and some cancers,” says study author Jennifer Di Nola, who works at the National Institutes of Health. The article goes on to say, “With a distinct peppery flavor, watercress is incredibly versatile and can be added to salads, sandwiches, soups, and smoothies throughout the year.”
Can you grow your own watercress? Yes, both Amazon and Wal Mart sell watercress seeds, as do many hardware and farm stores. But skunk cabbage does not come with it.
Larry and Ann Scheckel are retired teachers and live in Tomah, Wisconsin. Larry is the author of Seneca Season: A Farm Boy Remembers and Country School Days: True Tales of a Wisconsin One-Room School and Murder in Wisconsin: The Clara Olson Case. Larry and Ann do speaking engagements concerning the above books. Contact: Larry Scheckel, 1113 Parkview Dr. Tomah, WI 54660 (608) 372-3362, lscheckel@charter.net.
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