Raising Cane

Twelve years ago, we moved to a home that came with two well-established clumps of bamboo at the back fence. From my rudimentary knowledge of bamboo, I knew there were two kinds—clumping, which was “good,” and running, which could break through your neighbors’ fence and take over the yard in the middle of the night. I have since learned much more about growing bamboo in South Louisiana, encouraged along the way by local bamboo enthusiasts who have shown me how to maintain it, love it, and even eat it.

Like most people, I knew bamboo had origins in faraway places like Asia and South America, but a Chitimacha basket weaver recently pointed out to me that the people of Louisiana have been nurturing and utilizing native bamboo for thousands of years in the low-lying lands of the Chitimacha people around Charenton. Arundinaria gigantea, or river cane, remains integral to the tribe’s basket weaving traditions, as well as those of other native peoples in the region.

River cane is a running bamboo which grows in thickets referred to as canebrakes. Modern day agricultural and cattle grazing practices have reduced the canebrakes in South Louisiana drastically, but recent efforts by Chitimacha leaders have resulted in the re-establishment of  the river cane on the Chitimacha Reservation—ensuring a supply of material for basketweaving, which remains an integral part of the Chitimacha culture.

Bamboo, both native and imported varieties, is notoriously hardy in South Louisiana, but it can and does suffer when the land suffers. When W.P. “Judge” Edwards III, the President of the Louisiana Gulf Coast Chapter of the American Bamboo Society, bought his great uncle’s Victorian-style home in Abbeville, it came with the oldest grove of Moso timber bamboo (Phyllostachys edulis) in the state, planted by Dr. Clarence “C.J.” Edwards in 1898. The grove has been struggling since Judge acquired it. He attributes its sparse culms to poor soil quality and compaction from when the grove was cleared with heavy equipment in the 1980s. He is currently employing a small excavator, bagged leaves, a flock of chickens, and a large goose to help improve the soil—loosening it while adding in natural materials.

[Read Frank McMain's 2020 story about the passion of Baton Rouge orchid collectors here.]

Judge remembers playing in the historic Moso grove as a child, surrounded by the tall canes that once reached as high as seventy-five feet and as wide as seven inches in diameter. “I always loved bamboo. I wasn’t a fanatic, but you get infected, you know,” he told me as we toured his collection of fifteen different bamboo species spread out over about three acres. The honking goose greeted us near a workshop sided with split bamboo canes. I passed the beautiful, golden, green-striped canes of Alphonse Karr (Bambusa multiplex), learned about the well-spaced nodules of Bambusa textilis—which makes great catfish poles—and listened to Judge’s story of the temple bamboo (Semiarundinaria fastuosa) that got away.

“I always loved bamboo. I wasn’t a fanatic, but you get infected, you know." — W.P. "Judge" Edwards III

He pointed out a few barely visible pots hidden within the unwieldy patch of purple-caned temple bamboo, which his cousin had gifted him a few years ago. He shook his head, saying “It slept, crept, then leapt right out of the pots!” referring to an oft-noted pattern in bamboo’s growth habits. The new species is beautiful, he said, so he is working on ways to contain it and control its spread. Reaching down to dig up a creeping rhizome in our pathway, he seemed just as impressed with the plant’s powerful growth as frustrated by its invasiveness.

As I had learned from my experience with clumping bamboo, the groves do, in certain locations, require containing. When I noticed mine too close to a fence, I spent an afternoon with a pickaxe and a hand saw removing roots and dead canes. I’ve since learned there are better tools specifically designed for digging bamboo, like one called “The Slammer.” Made up of a sharp metal blade welded to a hollow pipe, the tool is used by inserting a heavy metal rod into the tube, slamming it down and driving the blade into the ground and through the rhizome. Also, a twelve-volt hacksaw with a pruning blade makes pruning bamboo infinitely easier.

My sister has ringed her New Orleans home with twenty bamboo plants, including Gracilis (Bambusa textilis) and blue bamboo (Bambusa chungii). Both clumping varieties grow tall enough so they create a greenish blue wall higher than her home, which is built nine feet off the ground. She explained her maintenance process, “In the weeks when the bamboo is shooting, I set a Saturday morning reminder on my phone and walk the parameter knocking down the shoots with my foot. The maintenance is worth it in return for the beautiful, luxurious, living screen that surrounds my yard.”

Another way to keep bamboo contained is by eating it, as I learned from Payao “Yao” Richard, the office manager at Live Oak Gardens wholesale nursery at Jefferson Island. As part of the family who owns and operates the nursery and the adjacent Rip Van Winkle Gardens, Yao lives at the edge of the botanical gardens with her husband Michael Richard, Jr. and their son. Over the years I have enjoyed visiting with Yao, learning about the bamboos propagated at the nursery, as well as the tropical bamboos featured in the photos tacked to the office walls, some of which were taken in Yao’s birth country of Thailand. I recently asked her if she knew anything about harvesting and cooking bamboo shoots. In response, she invited me to supper.

“In the weeks when the bamboo is shooting, I set a Saturday morning reminder on my phone and walk the parameter knocking down the shoots with my foot. The maintenance is worth it in return for the beautiful, luxurious, living screen that surrounds my yard.”—the author's sister

I found her at her kitchen sink with a mortar and pestle in arms—smashing a mixture of bamboo shoots, lime juice, onion tops, cilantro, mint, seasoned toasted rice, fish sauce, red pepper flakes, and a can of tuna. Harvesting and preparing bamboo shoots for eating is a labor of love, she explained, and you only do it twice a year: in the spring for runners like Robert Young (Phyllostachys viridis) and in summer for clumpers like Kanapah (Bambusa textilis), which produce her favorite shoots. All varieties of bamboo are edible, but timing and preparation are key for palatability. They are best harvested when they first emerge. She and Mike roast their shoots on a BBQ pit, then peel, slice, and boil them. After draining the bitter pot liquor, she boils the shoots again, then stores them in a freezer with water, shares them, or uses them in recipes.

That night, Yao served the bamboo shoot salad with a light red wine and plates of boiled eggs, fresh cucumber, and chicken sausage made in nearby Delcambre. From first bite, I reveled in the layers of flavor—the smoky taste of the roasted bamboo, the salty umami of the fish sauce, and the brightness of the lime. As I finished my second (perhaps third) helping, Yao and Mike offered a tour of the gardens where the shoots were harvested.

Mike named the many bamboo varieties as Yao showed me the special place where she harvests the shoots. Serendipitously, we came across a late season shoot, which Mike cut down with his pocketknife. Back in the kitchen, Yao peeled it, then used what she referred to as a “two-blades knife” to slice the thin rings of sweet-smelling freshness. She likened the smell to that of freshly-shucked corn. I thought to myself, now this is the way to contain bamboo.

[Read Ruth Laney's 2019 story about native plants in Louisiana here.]

Containing and maintaining bamboo is relatively straightforward if you are consistent, but it’s a different situation when you find yourself inheriting a neglected mess, a “crisscrossed chaos of living and dead culms all tangled together,” as Andy Ringle described the expansive Moso groves on the land he and his brother Ken Ringle inherited at Avery Island. I first met Andy at an event at the University of Louisiana. His eyes lit up when I told him about my bamboo, and he invited me to join a gang of “bambouistes,” a term he coined to refer to bamboo enthusiasts, like the ones who annually descend upon Avery Island for the Louisiana Gulf Coast Chapter (LGCC) of the American Bamboo Society’s (ABS) Avery Island Moso Bamboo Grove Grooming Event.

Edward Avery McIlhenny planted the Moso grove in 1910. After decades of neglect, Louisiana members of the ABS learned of the historic grove—which is considered one of the oldest, most well-established Moso bamboo groves in the United States—and requested permission to clean it up. Thus was born the annual grooming tradition, which has occurred now for over twenty years on the last weekend of February, just before the groves begin to push up new shoots.

The weekend begins on Friday night at the Ramada Conference Center in New Iberia, with all those gathered offering their individual testimonies as to how they came to live the life of a bambouiste. Saturday participants work alongside both experienced folks and newbies to clear out dead canes and fallen debris from within the groves. All are given the opportunity to take some of the cut canes home. It’s been several years since I attended the event, but I still recall the peace I experienced in those rejuvenated groves at the end of the workday, listening to the culms clacking and the leaves rustling up high.

In a recent move, I had to say goodbye to my two clumps of bamboo, and I find myself lost without them, especially in tomato growing season when I need new stakes. I’ll be heading to the bamboo nurseries soon; there’s a wide-open space in my yard where I think a clump of Kanapaha with its tasty shoots would look great. 

Many nurseries carry limited varieties of bamboo, but I recommend visiting one of the bamboo specialty nurseries of South Louisiana to explore the beauty of the wider range they carry. The Ninth Ward Nursery in New Orleans (ninthwardnursery.com) can help you decide which bamboo will suit your space and needs. Bamboo Gardens of Louisiana (bamboogardensla.com) is a nursery located on twenty-four acres in Mount Hermon with sales handled online or by advance appointment.

For a real treat, plan a visit to the Bamboo Company Nursery (bamboocompanynursery.com) in Franklinton—the only bamboo arboretum in the state—where you can choose from over one hundred varieties, take a tour of the bamboo groves, or even join a class. They’ll teach you how to make a bamboo walking stick, and in the spring they offer lessons in cooking bamboo shoots.

The annual Avery Island Moso Bamboo Grove Grooming Event takes place on February 25–27 this year. To learn more about attending, visit the ABS website at bamboocentral.net/averyisland.html. The event is only open to ABS members; visit bamboo.org to learn about joining the Society.