For Koreans, spring isn’t just a season; it’s also an occasion to feast on namul, often translated as wild greens. The legend about the birth of Dangun, forerunner of the Korean nation, speaks of Ungnyeo, a bear who turns into a person after spending 100 days eating ssuk (mugwort) and garlic. Some think the garlic mentioned here isn’t the garlic we know today, but rather a kind of namul — more specifically, a wild chive known as dallae. As such, mugwort, dallae and all of Korea’s other fragrant wild greens are deeply rooted in Korean history, and in Korean sensibility. That’s especially true of the spring greens that sprout from the thawing earth to signal that winter’s icy reign has ended for another year.

Spring is the season when the greatest variety of namul can be encountered at the dinner table. These greens are ingredients that epitomize Korean cuisine. But the word namul refers not only to the edible plants found in the wild, but also to the dishes made from them, whether they be blanched, boiled or steamed. Namul are divided into a number of categories, including spring greens (bom-namul), mountain greens (san-namul), field greens (deul-namul) and leafy greens (ip-namul), depending on where and when they’re collected. For this article, we consulted wIth two experts who have dug into the culinary roots of namul to help us better understand them.

One of those experts is Yoon Taehyeon, who makes good use of namul in the dishes served at Hwanggeum Kongbat, a restaurant that has received a “bib gourmand” from the Michelin Guide, as well as the Michelin Green Star from 2021 to 2023. Yoon has an abiding passion for nature-based dishes oriented on soybeans and vegetables. When Yoon was asked about namul, the first thing he mentioned was spring greens.

“For me, the most vibrant image is when the spring greens sprout after winter’s cold has passed. When I pick the greens sprouting in the fields and hills in late winter and early spring, their fragrance evokes the vibrance of spring. That memory is how I’d define namul.”

A distinctive feature of spring greens is that they emerge from the winter with a stash of stored nutrients. Research shows that their vitamin and mineral content is richer than namul gathered in other seasons. To top it off, spring greens’ aromatic flavor leaves a lasting impression on the palate

No wonder spring and namul are so interconnected in the minds of Koreans. That also explains why the specific word bom-namul (spring greens) was created, as if namul alone were not enough. The second expert interviewed is Jang Minyeong, a food explorer and former staff writer for the food documentary Korean Cuisine and Dining. Today, Jang is one of the co-founders of Our PlanEAT, a company committed to sustainable food culture. Reflecting the Korean belief that food in season is the best tonic, Jang regards seasonality as the most important part of her culinary choices. And what food could better convey seasonality than wild greens?

“A long with the season itself, the very word “spring greens” evokes a sense of germination. There’s also the anticipation about the appearance of shoots and sprouts we couldn’t see during the winter. The fact is that spring is when namul are the tastiest. But there are lots of greens to enjoy not only in the spring, but also in the summer and fall. Given Korea’s four distinct seasons, eating namul is a way to savor the unique seasonal characteristics of spring, summer, fall and winter.”

A fundamental aspect of namul-based cuisine is that the food ought to be eaten in season. Seasonal greens support culinary variations that bring joy and energy to one’s routine.

So which spring greens should we indulge in? Yoon’s first suggestion was mugwort, and for a simple reason. Mugwort is remarkably hardy, capable of growing in the harshest of environments. As a common green, it’s easy to find and can be prepared in a variety of ways. That’s why mugwort is a familiar spring green for any Korean.

“Mugwort tends to be eaten as a muchim (seasoned side dish), but it also has an amazing aroma when added to soup. In coastal areas, mugwort soup is often prepared with dodari (type of flounder), while in inland areas where seafood is out of reach, the aromatic green is added to doenjang (fermented soybean paste) soup. When I had hunger pangs as a child, we’d often mix up mugwort with rice flour to serve ssuk beomuri as a makeshift meal in the spring. Nowadays, mugwort is not just namul. It’s opening up a new gustatory genre.”

As Yoon’s remark suggests, mugwort is a unique Korean flavor that has launched its own genre. Thanks to its distinctive flavor and color, the herb is used not only in traditional rice cake, but also in lattes and cakes, to name just a few concoctions. Mugwort’s popularity is part of a trend for Korean millennials to chase nostalgia and take pleasure in the past. As it happens, certain types of mugwort contain a toxic compound that has led certain countries, including France, to ban or limit its use outside of medicinal contexts. As such, the plant is consumed in few regions, and only certain varieties are considered edible. But that just makes Korea’s mugwort all the more special. While mugwort grows in grasslands around the world, the main variety in Korea is less toxic than others, especially the young leaves found in spring. It was only natural for its tender leaves to become a food source. So mugwort and other easily found greens that are associated with the spring come closest to the definition of namul as “an all-inclusive term for various kinds of edible plants and leaves.”

We now shift our focus to wild greens that aren’t commonly found in spring. Jang seeks springtime energy in sprouts — the fresh shoots that grow from stems and branches.

“New shoots, and especially those growing on trees, often taste sour, astringent and bitter. They can be seen as under appreciated flavors and aromas. But there’s also a joy that comes from finding a gustatory balance by combining ingredients with such diverse flavors.”

These shoots are collected from such plants as the dureup (angelica tree), hwasalnamu (burning bush), darae (hardy kiwi), and chamjuk (red toon). Even the names of these greens may be unfamiliar to many readers. Dureup, the prince of spring greens, generally refers to the nutrient-rich shoots on the branches of the angelica tree. The shoots growing on the tips of burning bush branches look like arrow fletching (which explains the Korean name hwasalnamu, meaning “arrow tree”). Another name for that green is honnip namul. The shoots growing on the hardy kiwi and the red toon plants also signal survival of another long winter. The flavor of these shoots is just as unique as their names.