American Burnweed: How to Use the Edible North American Herb

What is the herb that spells summer? Basil, scattered across ripe tomatoes or in pesto? Cilantro, chopped into guacamole? Or is it American burnweed, pulsed with mango into a dressing for spicy salad? “American…what? you might ask. It’s a North American herb whose aromatic leaves are ready to harvest in the sultriest days of July and August. Its aroma is as pungent as cilantro’s, but more perfumed, like shiso. With the charisma of epazote and the punch of culantro (with some Thai lime skin thrown in). In short: It is wow. Also virtually unknown as a culinary herb in the kitchens of its native range.

Photography by Marie Viljoen.

In Central Park’s North Woods, in the sticky summer of 2014, I met this unfamiliar plant for the first time. Flanked by the flowers and first, green berries of pokeweed (another maligned native edible), its herbaceous stem, surrounded by handsome leaves, grew almost four feet tall in the dappled shade. Its stature reminded me of wild lettuce, but the intense scent released by a crushed leaf was distinctly un-lettuce-like. My cooking instincts began to ping wildly. What was it? I took pictures, a collected some leaves. My American burnweed adventure had just begun.

Botanically, American burnweed is Erechtites hieraciifolius, and there are at least two varieties. It is an indigenous annual and a member of the Asteraceae family. Its common name alludes to its association with areas of forest that had been cleared by burning. Other common names include fireweed (not to be confused with the pink-flowered species of Epilobium, also edible), and pilewort. Wort is a suffix often attached to plants associated with a medicinal use, and the pile, well, that says all. That etymology is interesting, because it turns out that American burnweed is used in some parts of the world to treat hemorrhagic complaints.

My initial searches for the this aromatic herb’s traditional American culinary uses came up close to empty. Hearsay. Speculation. Very little personal experience. There were dismissive comments about its “rank odor,” followed by downright rudeness, like: “Very unattractive in appearance, and ill-scented besides.” Really? That was R. M. Harper, writing a 1944 report on weeds in Alabama. Native Americans used American burnweed medicinally, treating poison ivy rash, among other ailments, and it has been similarly in Central and South America. In Japan E. hieraciifolius has been found to be efficient at assimilating atmospheric nitrogen dioxide, making it a potential living “brick” in green walls planted near buildings or flanking highways to sequester pollutants from car emissions or other industrial sources.*

* The Biology of Canadian Weeds, Canadian Journal of Plant ScienceVolume 92, Number 4, July 2012

At long last, in my hunt for dinner, I reached the digital shores of Indonesia and Malaysia, where this American weed, along with its local tropical counterpart Erechtites valerianifolius, has enjoyed a solid culinary tradition as well as some serious study, which reveals high vitamin A, protein, and zinc levels. It was that geographic culinary association, and burnweed’s strong relatability (at least to my plate) to annual herbs like basil and mint, that guided my first kitchen games.