A big hand for the Pringles of the sea

Encouraging my fellow Britons to collect and eat seaweeds has been something of a struggle. Seaweeds are, after all, the slimy, invertebrate-infested, overly aromatic mess that you find stranded on the beach and perfect living specimens fare little better in the group mind of a kingdom of phycophobes. There are exceptions, of course. Laver is famously collected around the Bristol Channel and in Northern Ireland a superficially more attractive seaweed is consumed — dulse.

The chief problem facing any domestic chef adventurous enough to undertake phycophagological experimentation is “what do you do with it?”. There is, however, no single method of cooking seaweeds;