Plant Specialties
Wild buckwheat: ID it, grow it, skip the grain aisle
A wild buckwheat is not the grain in the pancake. The name is shared; the plant, the family and the garden use are not.
Wild buckwheat is not the grain in your pancake. The name covers Eriogonum, a genus of some 250 species of the American West, mostly woody or mat-forming perennials of sagebrush hillsides, chaparral and desert edges. The edible buckwheat, Fagopyrum esculentum, is an unrelated Eurasian plant in the knotweed family, grown as a grain crop in cooler, wetter country. The two share a common name and a triangular seed shape, and almost nothing else.
That confusion costs gardeners real plants. A nursery row labeled buckwheat may hold a cover crop, a wildflower seed packet may hold a Eurasian weed, and a hiker may walk past a flowering Eriogonum without a name for it. The genus is worth the trouble of learning, because it carries a Western garden through late summer when little else is in flower, and because its identification is more mechanical than it looks.
What is a wild buckwheat, and how does it differ from the buckwheat grain we eat?
Wild buckwheat belongs to the genus Eriogonum, in the buckwheat family Polygonaceae. It is native to North America, with the center of diversity in the Great Basin, California and the Southwest. Growth forms range from low mats a few inches tall to rounded shrubs three or four feet across, and a few species are annuals that appear after winter rain and vanish by June.
The grain buckwheat, Fagopyrum esculentum, is a Eurasian annual domesticated in Asia and still grown in the northern United States and Canada. It is not a grass, so it is not a true cereal, but it is milled and eaten like one. It is also not closely related to Eriogonum in any way a gardener would notice.
For a gardener the practical difference is water. Fagopyrum wants summer moisture and dies with frost. Eriogonum wants the opposite: dry summers, sharp drainage, and no fertilizer. Treating a wild buckwheat like a crop is the fastest way to lose it.
The genus has a literature of its own, and much of it is scattered across regional floras and society newsletters rather than garden books. A field journal devoted to the genus, The Umbel Journal, collects portraits of individual species alongside notes on raising them from seed, which is useful when a nursery tag gives you a name and nothing else.
How do you identify a wild buckwheat on a hike?
Identification rests on three features, and they are best read in this order: the involucre, the flower arrangement, and the leaves.
The involucre is the giveaway. In Eriogonum it is a small cup, usually less than a quarter inch across, made of fused bracts, and it sits at the base of each flower cluster. Flowers emerge from inside this cup. Nothing else common on a Western hillside does quite this. Once you have seen a few, you can spot the cup at arm’s length and stop guessing.
The flowers themselves are tiny, often less than an eighth of an inch, and are arranged in clusters called heads or umbels above the involucre. Color runs from white and cream through yellow, pink and deep red. Many species hold their color for weeks, then dry to a rust or tan that persists into winter, which is why the genus reads as a late-season plant.
Leaves are the third clue and the least reliable alone. Most species carry leaves at the base of the plant in a rosette, with stems rising bare above them. Leaf shape ranges from round to spoon-shaped to woolly and narrow. The surface is often covered in dense hairs, which is where the genus gets its name: Eriogonum means woolly knees, a reference to the jointed stems of some species.
A hand lens helps. So does a regional flora, because the genus is large and a few species look alike from six feet away. Photograph the involucre, the whole plant, and a single leaf, in that order, and identification becomes a desk job rather than a trail guess.
Which buckwheat should a small dry garden start with?
Start with a species that grows within a day’s drive of the garden. Local seed and local stock carry the right dormancy and the right tolerance for your summer, and they will not need coddling.
Three species are common starting points in the West. California buckwheat, Eriogonum fasciculatum, is a low shrub with white to pink heads, tolerant of heavy soil and full sun, and it is the workhorse of Southern California plantings. Sulfur buckwheat, Eriogonum umbellatum, is a mat to low mound with yellow heads that age to orange, and it handles cold winters and rocky ground across a wide range. Saint Catherine’s lace, Eriogonum giganteum, is the large one, a shrub to six feet with broad white heads, best where there is room and no frost pocket.
For a small garden, one plant of Eriogonum umbellatum and one of Eriogonum fasciculatum will tell you more in a season than a shelf of books. Both are widely available from native plant nurseries, and both are cheap enough to replace if a spot turns out wrong.
Plant in fall, not spring. A buckwheat set out in October has cool soil and winter rain to root into before its first dry summer, which is the summer that kills most new plantings. Set it high, on a slight mound, in soil that drains within an hour of a soaking. Do not amend with rich compost and do not fertilize. Water through the first summer only, deeply and rarely, then stop.
What does a buckwheat do for the garden beyond flowering?
It feeds late summer. Buckwheat nectar and pollen arrive in July and August, when much of the native garden has finished, and they carry bees, small butterflies and hummingbirds through the gap before fall. A single established shrub becomes a station that insects return to daily.
It also holds ground without irrigation. Once established, most Western species survive on rainfall alone in their native range, and they keep a compact, gray-green shape with no shearing. The pruning they want is light: deadhead the dried heads if you dislike the rust color, and shorten the longest stems in late winter if the plant has gone sprawling. Cutting back hard into old wood usually kills the plant, so stay in the soft growth.
Seed is the other route, and it is slower but cheap. Sow in fall in a pot left outdoors, so winter cold breaks dormancy, and expect germination in late winter or early spring. Seedlings transplant best while small.
Where does the grain confusion come from?
Mostly from the shared common name and the shared triangular seed. Both plants produce a small, three-sided achene, and both were used as food by people who lived where they grew. Western tribes harvested Eriogonum seed, parched or ground it, and ate it as a mush or flour, which is a real and documented use. That history is not the same as the crop.
The practical consequence for a gardener is a labeling problem. A seed packet or a bulk bin labeled buckwheat is almost always Fagopyrum. A native plant sale labeled buckwheat is almost always Eriogonum. Read the botanical name, and the confusion disappears.
What should a beginner do first?
Learn the involucre. It is the one feature that separates Eriogonum from everything else on a Western hillside, and it takes about ten minutes of looking to fix in memory. Then find out which species grow wild within an hour of home, and plant one of those in October. The genus rewards patience and local knowledge more than it rewards spending, and a single well-sited shrub will teach the rest.