At Commonwealth restaurant recently, a waitress was overheard describing an entrée with an unusual ingredient. “And this is the Douglas Fir-scented oil,” she announced, pointing to a nearly imperceptible drizzle on the plate.

But this was no isolated incident of trees-as-flavoring. In fact, a number of Bay Area restaurants are seasoning food with the leaves, oil and needles from a seemingly exotic array of trees that go far beyond the standard bay laurel.

The logical next step in the wild and foraged food craze, one might expect to find such woodsy flavors on the menu at The Wild Kitchen, but it turns out trees are popping up all over the Bay Area food world. Benu serves pine needle honey over beef, for instance, Sons & Daughters has served an herb salad topped with homemade curds and whey with eucalyptus oil, and Dominique Crenn (who opened the eponymous Atelier Crenn in January) serves a pine-scented marshmallow lollipop.

Chef Daniel Patterson, a tree pioneer, is another good example of the trend. He’s had a long-standing relationship with Mandy Aftel of Aftelier Perfumes, whose tree and flower-based essential oils are often infused into the meticulous fair at his restaurants, COI and Plum. (The two co-authored a book called Aroma: The Magic of Essential Oils in Foods and Fragrance in 2004). 

At a recent pop-up dinner, roaming local chef Leif Hedendal served porcini mushrooms “cooked in ghee with shelled marrow beans, stinging nettle, potato, and fir.” Hedendal is known for his experimental combinations of herbs, roots, and flowers, and this use of young fir tips as a garnish was hardly accidental.

"It's very trendy, but it also has a long history,” said Hedendal. As to why tree-inspired flavors have taken off recently, he says, “it's the Noma-effect," referring to the Coppenhagen-based restaurant known for exquisite meals prepared using only foods native to the Nordic region (incorporating everything from snails to bark to native grasses). 

Private chef and caterer Nicole Lobue is also very comfortable incorporating wild foods into her menus. She’s been known to grind pine needles into salt and serve them with meats that can stand up to the strong flavors. “I also cook with juniper and fig leaves,” she says. “But I like pine needles for their tannins and acid.”  

Meanwhile, Luis Villavelazquez of Les Elements and La Victoria Bakery is adding these flavors to baked goods. He’s spiced up cupcakes with Blood cedar oil and frosted scones with pine-scented glaze; both are made with essential oils from Aftelier Perfumes. 

“The cedar has almost a roasted cherry or vanilla scent,” says Villavelazquez. “The richness of the wood reminded me of coco nibs, so I knew it’d be good with chocolate.” Mid-description, he breaks into a rhapsody, remembering his first whiff of the oils. “That’s the stuff that really inspires me,” he says. “I smelled it and I could imagine so many flavor profiles and combinations within those two vials of oil.”  

In addition to their culinary value, however, trees on menus — like the birds, wolves, owls and squirrels that adorn so many young urbanites’ gifts and clothing these days — might also hint at a deeper logic.

After all, San Francisco is a city with fewer than one tree per person (669,000 trees versus 808,000 people). So it only makes sense that we find ourselves occasionally craving the woods.