One of my earliest memories as a kid was my father taking the family out on excursions to Antelope Valley, about an hour and a half outside of Los Angeles where we lived. We used to go out there to pick pears, look at the jack rabbits, and just wander around the rugged terrain. There was a creek that ran along where we would hike, and in this creek grew watercress. It was rather miraculous to my six year old brain that we could find what we often ate for salad, growing over boulders, in and around tumbling and churning creek water. “Well that’s why they call it ‘water’ cress,” explained my dad.

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