This was my kitchen counter one morning last week. I had just brewed a little pot of Turkish coffee and set my teff to ferment for a day. I've been determined to learn how to use teff, a grass seed staple in Ethiopia that is highly nutritious and flavorful.
It requires a 3-day fermentation for it to bubble effusively, which maximizes the fluff in crepes.However, I don't particularly care for the sour taste of aged teff, so I shortened the fermenting time to one day.
I experimented with crepes, which can be eaten like bread. 
The flavor of this grain is so wholesome and fragrant that I also experimented with cooked, fried teff balls, as a substitution for meatballs. I used teff balls in several main dishes last week.
They added more nutrition to this stir-fry.
With the left-over teff flour I made a whole-grain rye bread, added crushed nuts and seeds, and served that with a broad-bean soup I partnered up with a ham bone and malloraddus pasta, celery, carrots, and onion. It was so good, I made another big pot today for the weekend, foraging in my back yard for a sturdy leek to add to the broth.Speaking of foraging, I've mulled over how I would survive in the Alaska wilderness if I was part of that 'Alaska Experiment' (Out of the Wild) on the Discovery Channel....not that I'd ever find myself in that predicament! But, the stress of watching the 'youngsters' try to figure it all out was more than I could bear (yes, I have it on tape, and review it from time to time.) The stress comes when I notice that they have no great inclination to know their environment. Instead of looking across the terrain with a rifle, they should be looking down at their feet, scrutinizing the meadow grasses, digging up tubers, gathering pine cones.
With proper roasting and grinding, they could make a hearty granola out of pine nuts, willow buds, roasted and crushed tubers, dried huckleberry, service berry and rose hips, and seeds from wild sorrel. All of this could be ground into a flour, mixed with a wild quail egg , and made into pasta balls.
I imagined teas from wild burdock and dandelion root, chamomile, rose hips and mint. For a salad, the dandelion leaves could be mixed with chickweed, fireweed, early wild sorrel, and the chopped flower-head of the yellow water lily. Seedpods from the sorrel, when dried, could be made into porridge or used to thicken soup.
I figured I'd get lucky, and zap a fat ptarmigan with my trusty sling shot, clean it out and save all the innards for sausage - the eyes, heart, kidneys, lungs, liver, mixed with another quail egg. The ptarmigan's intestine would be washed and stuffed(ever so carefully, of course) with wild sage, wild parsley and onion, and gently fried in grease left over from roasting some of that fat bird. The bones would be simmered for broth, with the tubers and early shoots of cattail added.
The crew of 'Alaska Experiment' failed so many times with their hunting that I just had to imagine a sling shot working better. I figured I'd hit the soaring eagle that had a salmon in his talons. He'd fall as the rock knocked his head sideways, and drop the salmon within a few feet of my fry-pan - no need for me to bush-wack through the alders and round the bend back to my camp.
OK, enough fantasy. The most important rule to always remember when foraging: Never eat a plant that you can't positively identify, and know that it is more important to know which plants are poisonous than to know which ones can be eaten safely. (Please note: Foraging for indigenous wild plants can be a serious project, if you live in Lebanon, Syria, or Jordan.)
