The way you collect sassafras is to pull seedlings right out of the ground. I know, it sounds destructive, but it isn't. Sassafras grows in clumps, and the parent tree sends out suckers under the ground, which then become seedlings; it's a lot like mulberry. You find a clump—look for at least eight to 10 treelings scattered about—go to one about two to three feet tall, grasp the very base of the tree, and yank it straight up. You should come away with the seedling and about 10 inches of the root.

You did not get all of the root, you know, and this is a good thing. It will regrow later. So what seems a little wanton is actually good for the sassafras cluster—it lets the surrounding seedlings grow with less competition.

All parts of this tree are useful. Notice I did not say "edible," because the leaves are the only part you actually eat. You know them as file powder, and without sassafras leaves your gumbo would not be gumbo.

I left the leaves of the seedlings I pulled with my sister and brother-in-law. They can make either tea or file powder from them. I took the twigs and roots back to California.

Elise Bauer

What's the difference? They make very different teas. The twigs have a lemony-floral flavor and aroma that one author has compared to Froot Loops cereal—not exactly a selling point in my book, but they are lovely. The roots, however, are the "root" in root beer.

I am not a tea drinker. Coffee is my breakfast drink of choice. So I was not about to switch for sassafras. But I do like using flavored syrups from wild ingredients; I recently made a delicious fir tip syrup from the young tips of a Douglas fir tree. I then use these syrups to glaze meats and make homemade sodas, sorbets, or ice creams. Sassafras is a prime candidate for this treatment.

So the first thing I did was chop some twigs, peeling back the green bark a bit to expose it—the bark is what has most of the flavor—then simmered them in hot water. The brew quickly turned a pretty amber, a little like cola if you mixed it with an equal volume of water. I let it steep overnight and then strained it through cheesecloth and mixed it 50-50 with sugar to make a simple syrup. It was outstanding. I mean, really outstanding. Think root beer with a lot of lemon in it.

Here's how to make sassafras twig syrup.

That was easy enough. But what I really wanted to make was homemade root beer. Root beer is my soda of choice, although I am also a big fan of good ginger ale. And I know how to make root beer at home, and it traditionally involves yeast and a small amount of alcohol—that's the "beer" in root beer. I did not want to do this. Homemade ginger ale and root beers made with fermentation are tricky. I wanted a stable, non-alcoholic base flavoring I could then make into a soda by adding seltzer water.

The first thing I knew I needed to do was to chop the sassafras roots.