The stems of this plant were once used - and perhaps still are - as a sweet pickle and many of its close relatives such as chervil, parsley and angelica are still used in the kitchen.
Wednesday, 9 January 2013
Keck, Kicksies and Cow Parsley
Only a couple of days ago I was having a whinge about the greyness of the weather. Today the sun is shining brightly, rapidly clearing away the traces of early-morning mist. Two cock blackbirds were squaring up to each in a territorial dispute in my back garden and our neighbour's Shrubby Honeysuckle (Lonicera fragrantissima) is becoming wreathed in blossom. It bore a handful of flowers as early as 2nd January and it will be interesting to see which insects are the first to pay them a visit.
In Banbury Lane the leaves of Keck are pushing through. In most floras it is called Cow Parsley but around Northampton as kids we always called the plant keck (The word is dismissed by Chambers' Dictionary as a "false singular"). In his Asylum Poems John Clare refers to "Kicksies white" and the plant has a host of other regional names. At Byfield Coffee Club earlier today friends came up with 'Queen Anne's Lace' and 'Lady's Needlework'. The plant caught my eye this morning because one of the leaves bore a leaf mine (a brown patch at the top of the photograph). It is the work of a small fly, Phytomyza chaerophylli, a common and widespread insect. The plant suffers little or no harm and in a few weeks it will be carrying a froth of white flowers.
The stems of this plant were once used - and perhaps still are - as a sweet pickle and many of its close relatives such as chervil, parsley and angelica are still used in the kitchen.
The stems of this plant were once used - and perhaps still are - as a sweet pickle and many of its close relatives such as chervil, parsley and angelica are still used in the kitchen.
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Growing up in the Cotswolds, we always called it keck. I remember as a young boy hearing old men discussing a young motorcyclist with a habit for reckless speed on winding lanes, "going round the bends with his yud [head] in the keck".
ReplyDeleteInteresting as where I grew up in Wigston in Leicestershire we always called hedge parsley keck.
ReplyDeleteAs a child I always knew Cow Parsley as Kecksies (Cambridgeshire Fens), interesting it's the name John Clare used - not far away just NW of Peterborough.
ReplyDeleteJust came across this blog as I was trying to remember what my Granny called cow parsley. She called it ladies lace, but it was the word keck that I couldn't remember. So glad to find this and hopefully I will remember now. Granny grew up in Wigston (a Broughton/Matthews).
ReplyDeleteIn the 70,s i grew up in Wellingborough( nr Northampton) we knew it as keck, i think dried( dead) stems broken open had a white almost breadlike substance which we knew as keck sadly i dont why we knew it as that
ReplyDeleteIn Lutton,south Lincolnshire, in the 1950s and 60s cow parsley was called 'keck'.
ReplyDeleteIt was always Keck in Rushden.
ReplyDeleteKeck in Ringstead Northants.
ReplyDeleteMy mum grew up in Brackley and Banbury and it was always keck to her, and has continued to be keck to me. The smell of it takes me right back to my childhood.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in Sapcote, Leicestershire and we call it keck too.
ReplyDeleteJust referred to on the news, in intro to the weather, as keck, by the news reader. Hadn’t heard it before.
ReplyDeleteKek is a common expression for cow parsley in the South Midlands, Warwickshire, North Oxfordshire, Leicestershire, Northamptonshire etc. Older people heard to say ‘As plentie ov kek abut is yer. Totally ungrammatical but dey is cuntry folks !!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteAlso knew it as keck in South Northamptonshire as a lad in the 50s. Some times collected as food for friends' rabbits. Not sure it was appreciated since wild rabbits, plentiful before myxomatosis, did not seem to eat keck.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in Stamford in South Lincolnshire, and always knew it as keck. Years ago when I used the word to some people from Surrey they didn't know the word, so I described it and then they recognised it as cow parsley.
ReplyDeleteIn 1950s Kesteven Lincs we schoolboys made whistles from the hollow stems of Keck by making a slice across with a penknife and feeding in a blade of grass to act as a reed. One lad even made holes to change the note like a flute!
ReplyDeleteHi Hugh, I'm writing a blog article about folklore / folk traditions - Cow Parlsey (Keck or Kex) in Lincolnshire. Could I use your description above in it please?
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ReplyDeleteWe also called it Keck where I grew up, just north of Derby
ReplyDeleteKeck in West Oxfordshire too!
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