UK law is a complicated beast. It has had many centuries to morph into its current form and continues to change, with new laws being introduced and older ones being updated as required. UK foraging law is around 800 years old and is still comparable to when it was first implemented all those years ago because, quite simply, it has never really been on the agenda – what a colossal waste of parliamentary time it would be to update foraging-related laws that affects such a tiny and relatively unimportant section of society.
There are some nuances, but I’m always amazed at how little my workshop guests know about the laws surrounding the gathering of wild food for personal consumption. Quite often, they are worried about whether or not they are even allowed to forage where they want to – perhaps why a culture of secrecy and discretion is so rife in the foraging world – with people so wary of getting caught when they are well within their rights to carry on collecting. Whilst modern societal trends might mean you feel embarrassed about being found with a basket of flowers and leaves (you really shouldn’t be though! What could be more incredible than being able to create a meal from your local hedgerow?!) you certainly should not feel naughty in doing so.
If this was a more earnest piece, I might transcribe the Countryside and Wildlife Act (1981) or Theft Act (1968). However, relevant as they are, they are pretty dry as documents go and don’t fully cover foraging with much comprehension or clarity. You also have to consider other laws in conjunction with them which would make this blog a jumbled mess. Instead, here is a nice summary and a perfect way in which to regard the laws surrounding foraging:
As a personal forager, if you are on land where you are not trespassing (e.g. public access space or your own land) you are perfectly welcome to gather wild food providing that it falls within the famous ‘Four Fs of Foraging’: Foliage, Fungi, Fruit and Flowers. You are not entitled to dig up any plants, nor are you allowed to collect timber*. Any red-listed, threatened or rare species should be left alone for both legal and conservation reasons. Picking for commercial purposes would require prior permission from the landowner.**
There are different rules if you are on a SSSI or nature reserve, but these tend to be specific to the site and actually are rarely enforceable – I suggest avoiding foraging in these spaces entirely. If you are at the coast, you can help yourself to seaweed as you would foliage, but there are often local laws surrounding shellfish landing sizes, so please research that before gathering anything with what you might call a ‘shell’, so that includes anything from limpets to lobsters.
The law doesn’t stop there. How’s this for an unfolding scenario? If you were able to prove that a plant or mushroom was growing wild on land where you did fancy a spot of trespassing, you would also be entitled to take it on the grounds that it has not been grown deliberately by the land owner and was indeed growing wild. Trespassing is only common law, after all. If the disgruntled land owner was then to take that wild species from your basket without your permission, that would essentially be a mugging, which is most certainly a criminal offence. That’s the messy legal nuances we could get bogged down with and, as always, I would encourage everyone to act in a civilised, considerate manner instead of testing the limits of a precedent-based legal system. Think of it like this: if a burglar enters your UK home with no damage or force, it would no doubt be a scary experience. However, in the heat of that moment, if you used a firearm to injure (or worse) the intruder, you yourself would be far more likely to feel the full force of the law. The best solution is to have prevented the burglar from entering in the first place. And maybe don’t keep a gun under the bed either.
There are other legal factors to consider. If you decide you want to make up a batch of japanese knotweed jam or three-cornered leek pesto, you would need to handle and transport that species correctly. These are just two examples of non-native invasive species – an official classification, not just referring to something that spreads rampantly in the garden like ground elder (also edible!) – and it is your legal responsibility to not encourage their spread. Failure to do so could result in prosecution, including massive fines. In the case of japanese knotweed, extreme care must be taken to heat-treat every last bit of it, and to not discard any of it in a green bin, compost heap or other similar fashion as this plant is especially good at propagating from even the smallest fibre. Himalayan balsam is a terrible blight on our woods and waterways due to its incredibly virile seeds and, whilst they are edible and delicious, you need to show the utmost care when gathering them for consumption. It is sadly the irresponsible actions of humans, not the plant species themselves, that spreads these ecological threats the farthest.
I could go on. There are many more fiddly bits to foraging law in the UK and I would love to have crowbarred in a few examples of organisations trying to stifle the rights of the landless common man, suffice to say that you don’t always need to follow the instructions given to you on a sign but often it is polite to do so. Instead, I think it is best to finish with this final thought: Whilst you can help yourself to as much wild food as you so wish, you should always strive to do so in a way that is safe, legal, sustainable and ethical (i.e. is someone going to mind you picking wild food there?) If that is the case, go for it. Even armed with the knowledge of how the law works, you still might find life easier by avoiding the greyer areas and picking from somewhere you know that nobody will mind you doing so.
*amazingly, that also renders the gathering of sticks illegal for, say, a fire at home. I wonder if that also means your dog breaks the law when carrying a stick beyond the boundaries of the wood where it picked it up? The law works in mysterious ways.
**rather helpfully, this does not include teaching people about foraging. Were workshop guests to then sell what they find on their local farmers market or to their nearest posh restaurant, we might have an issue. But picking something under the watchful eye of an expert guide for your own consumption (as most foraging events are designed to be) is absolutely fine.
What to forage this month
Taken from the Forage Box Foraging Calendar 2026 – now available to preorder.
Chicken Of The Woods – texture like chicken when young.
Dulse – beautiful seaweed that tastes like bacon!
Cherry – wander through new housing estates to find these in abundance
Raspberries – easy to identify and delicious. What’s not to love?
Meadowsweet – flowers taste of vanilla and can be used to enhance ice cream
This month’s species in focus: Ox Eye Daisy
Drive down any A-road or motorway at this time of year and you will often notice the sidings covered with this beautiful member of the daisy family. Perhaps the Highways Agency gets a discount on bulk-buying the seeds, because it seems that the newer the roadside verge, the more ox eye daisies there are. It is obviously best to avoid picking from major roads but it’s a good starting point for becoming familiar with this very common plant. The ox eye daisy is named as such because a botanist with a vivid imagination decided that it looks like a bovine eye when in flower – my argument would be that most plants share that characteristic so isn’t the most helpful (see also: lady’s smock). Some sources will say that ox eye daisy should be avoided in large quantities, but I have eaten mountains of it and still live to tell the tale, so I think that reasonable moderation is probably key here and maybe don’t be tempted by an ox eye daisy soup. Whilst the texture of the raw petals isn’t for everyone, the taste is quite middle-eastern to me and not dissimilar to falafel.
Habitat: meadows, field edges, waste ground, roadsides
Description: our largest native daisy with flowers that share the same form and colour as the ones you find in your lawn. You can expect a healthy patch to reach waist height in flower, but more often they come up to the knee. The white petals surrounding a yellow centre is distinct enough, but the paddle/spoon shape of the leaves should help narrow it down further.
Lookalikes: anything with that daisy-like flower, such as chamomile (edible), feverfew (edible) or various ornamental plants that can be found in the garden. Rely on the habitat, the size and the paddle-shaped leaves to eliminate the possibility of picking something else.
Picking guide: As any good gardener will know, the act of removing a flower head often encourages more flowers to grow (‘pinching out’ or dead-heading is essentially what you need
to do here) so focus on the best-looking flowers for this recipe. The more herb-like leaves are best picked earlier in spring and can be dried for use later in the year.
Cooking tips: An ox eye daisy falafel is a perfect way to showcase this plant’s unique flavour, but cooked into anything mediterranean works wonderfully too.
Recipe: Ox Eye Daisy Focaccia
This month’s recipe is one I have been perfecting in preparation for this year’s annual Wild Supperclub on Saturday 26th July (which currently stands at a whopping 13 courses by the
way!) and will sit brilliantly alongside a selection of wild mezze. I’ve also included a couple more foraged flavours to make it even more wild, but you could use regular bay and rosemary instead.
Ingredients:
500g strong bread flour (white) plus more for dusting
300-350ml room temperature water in separate jug
A big handful of ox eye daisy flowers
5g or a single sachet of dried yeast
Sea salt
A good glug of decent olive oil
Optional: tsp powdered bog myrtle flowers
Optional: tbsp fresh noble fir needles
Equipment:
Glass or ceramic bowl
Plastic bag or lid for proving
Medium, high-sided baking tray (approx 20cm x 30cm) lightly-greased with olive oil
Method:
Using your hands (or food processor with bread hook), mix together the flour, yeast, a drizzle of olive oil, powdered bog myrtle and a pinch of salt.
- Slowly pour in the water, mixing well, until you get a sticky dough. It should stick to your fingers but not be a liquid. Knead well for 10 minutes or so on a clean, lightly-floured surface.
- Using olive oil on your fingers, shape the dough into a ball and put back into the now clean bowl. Cover with a lid, plate or plastic bag and pop it somewhere warm for a couple of hours to prove.
- After 2 hours, your dough should have doubled in size. Turn out of the bowl onto your clean surface and flatten loosely. Scatter the ox eye daisy flowers on top of the dough and then fold the dough a number of times to incorporate the flowers into the mix.
- Place the dough in your baking tray and push it into the corners to fill the space. It should resemble a wobbly rectangle. Cover again and leave somewhere warm for around 45 minutes.
- Preheat your oven to 250C. Uncover your dough and poke holes across the surface – I like mine done neatly but you can go to town with whatever pattern you so wish. Scatter roughly chopped noble fir needles (or rosemary) across the surface, drizzle generously with olive oil so that the finger holes are partially filled and scatter the surface with a good pinch of sea salt. Remember that this is meant to be a salty, oily bread!
- Put into the oven for 10 minutes then turn down the heat to 200C to then bake for another 10 minutes or until the top looks golden brown.
- I like munching on the hot crusts straight out of the oven, but decorum says it might be better slicing your focaccia into bitesize chunks and serving it warm.
Tip: use olive oil on your hands instead of flour to ensure you can handle the dough without it sticking to everything.