You like him and wish him to hell. It is considered an aphrodisiac, but it separates lovers: its controversy, the garlic. No other plant is more Janus-faced than garlic, botanically a lily of the leek genus, called “Allium sativum” by the Latin and “Knofel” by the Austrians.

The table looked irritated. “Do you think,” the host had asked, “that you can make a complete menu with flowers?” The echo was a rather loud no. The more experienced guests probably mumbled something about cress blossoms and geranium ice cream. Candied violets were also mentioned, and there was one guest who had already once snacked on magnolias in wine jelly and felt downright daring about it.

Who can say exactly when a myth begins. For a long time, wild garlic has been ignored, only punked-out green apostles appreciated its idiosyncratic aroma of garlic. Adherents of natural medicine praised it as a benefit for the heart and kidneys, stomach and intestines; the forest herb, which sprouts en masse like weeds in March and April in damp forests, shady meadows and along streams, would drive away spring fatigue, be good for coughs and give one bear strength.

Philosophers may squirm in phrases, but the vernacular will never be surprised at an intellectual egg dance. He formulates his opinion without faxes even when it comes to the symbol of life: “Whether man, whether animal, it remains the same, their origin is a small egg.”

It is temperamental, shy and stubborn, which anglers misunderstand as capricious, especially after unsuccessful hunting. The best season for brown trout begins in the spring and extends into July; during this time its meat has the finest aroma.