The common names of plants fascinate me. Here in north-west Europe we have much in common, yet linguistically we are more separated than we often admit.
Here is a case in point: 𝐴𝑛𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑠. In the UK it is known as cow parsley. Here, “cow” suggests something coarse, of lesser culinary value, more for the field than the table.
The white umbrellas of florets, the white umbels are a-coming, those loose, frothing heads that will soon take over the margins.
In French it becomes cerfeuil sauvage, wild chervil. In Dutch, fluitenkruid, the “whistle herb”, its hollow stems once fashioned into simple flutes in more innocent times.
We are looking at the same plant, but from different angles. One dismissive, one descriptive, one practical.
It belongs to the carrot family, alongside parsley and chervil, herbs we happily eat. But this one is best left alone. It sits among near neighbours that demand respect, not curiosity. Hemlock is not far away.