OF all the spring greenery sprouting above soil level at the moment, there is one species of plant that I am particularly pleased to see.

Or should I say smell and taste, because these are the two senses that wild garlic titillates the most, and if I'm honest the main reason for my happiness is gastronomic. In my book there is no better addition to a cheese and tomato sandwich than a couple of wild garlic leaves.

The taste is not quite as ferocious as shop-bought garlic because our wild variety is a different species altogether. The cultivated bulbs of Allium sativum, famously used for thousands of years in Mediterranean cooking, actually originated in the Far East with China still being the world’s largest producer.

Our native plant, known colloquially as ramsons, has the scientific name Allium ursinum, which literally means bear onion. In the countries of mainland Europe where bears still survive, they love to dig up ramsons bulbs to feast upon. Presumably the same happened in Ryedale up until Anglo-Saxon times when our ancestors killed off the last of our local bears.

Ironically, the name garlic is also Anglo-Saxon meanings spear-leek. There is some debate as to whether spear refers to the shape of the bulb or the leaf of the plant. Like other woodland plants, ramsons produce their leaves very early in the year in order to soak up as much sunlight as possible while it is still available. By June the trees will have grown their leaves as well and the forest canopy will shade out all the other plants growing beneath.

Other early growing woodland plant leaves to look out for this month are bluebells, dog’s mercury, cuckoo pint and the very rare lily-of-the-valley. Care needs to be taken with these last two on the list because they are both poisonous and have leaves resembling those of the tasty ramsons. There is a very easy check of course – pinch the leaf and sniff; if it smells of onion you are safe.

In my years as a teacher I have been asked many brilliant biological questions by children – Why do men have nipples? and Why do we yawn? being two cases in point.

Another good one was, If plants don't want to be eaten, then why do they make themselves taste nice? The answer to this, at least as far as the onion family is concerned, is that they are actually trying to make themselves taste horrible. Bears and most humans may like the taste but garlic and onion are particularly distasteful to most other animals, slugs and insects in particular.

The active chemical which provides that very distinctive flavour is called allyl methyl sulphide or allicin for short. Not only is it pungent,but it’s also very persistent, retaining its smelliness long after having been eaten. I’m sure we have all noticed garlic breath on a work colleague the morning after their meal out.

This is not because they failed to brush their teeth, because the allicin is not in their mouth, but in their bloodstream; from here it passes into the air in their lungs which they then breathe into our faces … nice.

There are times when garlic-pong-persistence can be a good thing though. My Grandma encouraged her free-range chickens to forage for ramsons under the hedgerows because she liked her eggs with a little more flavour, and some folk swear that garlicy sweat, after a spicy meal, is a very effective midge and mosquito repellent.

I wonder if this is the origin of garlic’s supposed anti-vampire properties. If it works on blood-sucking insects then maybe it will deter blood-sucking ghouls as well.