What to do with dandelions?

Every herb lover has their own favourite story about dandelions (Taraxacum officinale). Brigitte Mars has written a whole book about the plant. Susun Weed has an entertaining chapter written in a French accent in her original Menopause book about dandelion and virtually every herb book mentions it either as part of the materia medica or in passing.  It is a versatile and valuable plant.

Dandelion is native to both Europe and Asia as part of the Asteracea family. There are many, many species which live happily side by side. You may be lulled into thinking the leaves and roots are the only parts used since the various actions of digestive, bitter tonic, diuretic, mild laxative, cholagogue, depurative, anti-inflammatory and antilithic are only applied to those two areas of the plant.

Historically, this may have been the case, along with applying the flower stem sap to warts, but there is one other part, the flower which also has a variety of interesting and beneficial uses. Spring is the time when flowers burst upon the scene in all their golden glory but it is still possible to come across them in sheltered corners at the edge of winter.

If you want to harvest dandelion roots at their most bitter, dig them in early spring when all the sugars gathered during the summer have been used. The roots can be tinctured fresh or dried or can be stored as dry roots for a tea or decoction through the year. If you are drying the roots it is best to slice them into one inch lengths and half them if the root is particularly thick.

I like to harvest my roots in autumn when they are fat and sweet. My favourite recipe is to make a bitter. You can also make dandelion root vinegar and eat the pickled roots in salads.

Dandelion Bitter

Take a mixture of roasted and fresh dandelion roots. Add a handful of fresh or dried orange peel, 1tsp dried ginger or ½-1 inch diced or grated root ginger plus a small handful of either brown or green cardamom pods for added warming effect.
 

Fill a glass jar with chopped root, peel and spices, cover with vodka for 3 weeks in dark cold place, strain and use. Dose is ½ -1 tsp. 15 minutes before eating or after a heavy meal to release stagnant feeling.

The root is mildly laxative and acts as a bitter digestive and liver tonic, enhancing both appetite and digestion, increasing the flow of digestive juices and aiding absorption.  Where there are no obstructions, it supports the liver in its function as a major detoxifying organ. Dandelion is recommended in liver and gall bladder problems, hepatitis and problems associated with a sluggish liver which may manifest as tiredness, irritability, headaches and skin problems.  

Dandelion’s ability to stimulate bile secretion means that it is contra-indicated if you have an obstruction in the bile duct or gallbladder. I know to my cost that taking a bitter during an inflammatory gall bladder attack makes the pain much worse!

It has anti-inflammatory properties and can be used to treat arthritis and rheumatism. It is thought to increase the flow of insulin from the pancreas so may be helpful in supporting people with diabetes.

Dandelion leaves support the kidneys. Their diuretic properties make them useful in water retention, cellulitis and urinary tract infections. Unlike pharmaceutical diuretics which leach potassium from the body, sometimes in dangerous levels, dandelion leaves have a high potassium content, pleasing that lost through increased urination. The leaves can also dissolve stone and gravel, improving the elimination of uric acid, thus making it a helpful remedy for gout.

If you want to harvest leaves, it is best to gather them before flowers appear as the bitterness of the leaves becomes stronger and makes them less palatable. If you want to make a dandelion leaf soup with other vegetables, look for the youngest, sweetest leaves, but even the oldest can make a fresh accompaniment to strong cheese sandwiches.

Dandelion’s ability to increase elimination of toxins and waste products through the liver and kidneys, make it a wonderful ally for skin issues.  It can be used for spots, acne, boils and abscesses often through applications of both leaf and flower infusions. Do be aware that the milky latex in the older leaves and flower stem can cause dermatitis in some people.

Dandelion flowers make one of the first flower essences of the year. Their energetic signature brings joy throughout the year.

Dandelion flower essence

Fill a glass jar or bowl with spring water, cover with dandelion flowers and leave in the sun for three hours. Remove the flowers with a twig or clean spoon and measure 50ml of infused liquid into a jug or glass bottle. Add an equal amount of brandy to preserve the infusion. This is the mother essence and can be diluted further to make a stock essence. Dose is three drops under the tongue three times a day or every half hour in a crisis. Drops can also be added to a glass of water and sipped.

Dandelion flowers also have an affinity with breast tissue and can used to break up benign congestion through appropriate massage. NB Always get any abnormality in breast tissue checked first! The oil can also be used for light muscle massage to relieve pain.

Dandelion Flower Oil

Pick an amount of dandelion flowers and divide into two. Place half of the herb inside the inner pan  if you are suing a double boiler or inside a glass jar or plastic bowl if you are using a slow cooker and cover with sunflower  oil (or your oil of choice). Replace the lid firmly and place inside the other saucepan or slow cooker which is about half filled with water. Heat the external saucepan so that the water gently boils. Do not let the pan boil dry! Boil for about 2 hours, then remove the inner pan and strain off the oil, squeezing the herb if you can to remove as much oil as possible. Place the rest of the herb inside the inner pan and pour over the oil from the first infusion. Replace the lid firmly and heat the oil in the outer pan for a further two hours. Strain the oil into a heated glass bottle or jar and cap with a screw top lid. If using fresh herb, let the infused oil sit for about three days to make sure any water content separates out. Decant oil. If water drops are left in the infused oil it will go off more quickly. Label the oil with the name and date that you made it.

Make a salve by heating 1oz of beeswax with 8-10 fluid ounces of infused oil. Pour into clean jars but do not seal until cold.  A mixture of dandelion and violet leaf oils make a really nice breast tissue massage medium.

Dandelion flowers also make delightful syrups either on their own or mixed with hawthorn flowers and red clover  in spring or rosehips and sloes in autumn. 

Derbyshire Delight
Pick an amount of fresh dandelions, red clover flowers and stalks and hawthorn flowers. Remove the dandelion petals and centres from any green bits. Place in a saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil and simmer gently for 20 minutes. Strain and measure liquid. Clean saucepan. Return liquid to the pan and simmer with the lid off until the liquid is reduced by 7/8s. Add honey in the ratio of 1pint to1lb honey. Stir gently until honey is dissolved. Pour into heated, sterilized bottles. Seal when cold. Label and date.

Whatever the season, dandelion will be by your side to offer comfort, healing or joy in the world around you.

Searching for lions in winter

Many people know dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) but few go hunting for it across fields in January. Standing in the middle of an empty five acres, gardening fork in one hand and a yellow washing up bowl in the other, I must have looked a strange sight to passing motorists or horse-riders trotting wearily home after a day’s hunting. Bitter wind sweeping down over the Cotswold hills made my eyes water, so I could hardly see and bending down made my nose run, necessitating the application of tissues every five minutes!

Luckily the ground was not frozen, nor was the soil too wet to release the dandelion roots when I found them. “Gather second year roots,” says Linda Ours Rago in her book, “Blackberry Cove Herbal: Healing with Common Herbs in the Appalachian Wise Woman Tradition”, but she doesn’t say how to recognise the difference between first, second or older roots by the crown of new leaves appearing on the surface.

What I discovered was that smaller roots seemed to have more leaves and thicker roots were only just sprouting a dark, green array. The thicker taproots are not like carrots, they are actually the product of several small roots – often from more than one plant- twisting around each other to reach up to half and inch diameter, but with a hollow centre.

It’s often easier to identify the roots once you have tipped the clod of earth upside down. The white root sap will gleam at you from the darkness of the soil, enabling you to almost “crack the clod open” to reveal the root in all its glory – no matter how small it is!

I love roots. I don’t enjoy digging them, especially not on my own, but there is a real sense of achievement and worthwhile effort when you’ve finished all the scrubbing and other preparation and the jar of new tincture is sitting on the table waiting to be put away to macerate.

I washed the roots, scrubbing them furiously before swilling in several changes of water. After that I cut them into small sections less than an inch long and about 1/4inch thick and put them on trays to dry in the fire oven for several hours. They came out very crisp but the leaves didn’t disintegrate on touch, which I would have expected if they had dried too long.

Normally I wouldn’t bother drying them, but they were so wet and my harvest was only half of what Chris and I gathered last year, so I decided to concentrate everything to try and extract the maximum amounts in vodka. It will be interesting to see how it turns out.

Seeing the crispness of the roots made me want to create a dandelion root chai with other spices. Unfortunately my coffee grinder isn’t working at the moment, so I shall have to wait until I gather my next batch of roots to try this out.

It seems only right that dandelion’s Latin name comes from Greek words 'taraxos' (disorder) and 'akos' (remedy), echoing the many centuries dandelions have been helping people. Its English name is derived from the French “dents de lion” meaning lion’s tooth referring to the serrated edge of the leaves. Of course the French have their own word for the plant – Pissenlit – which eloquently describes its diuretic nature.

There are so many different uses and recipes for dandelions. Brigitte Mars has written a wonderful little book called “Dandelion Medicine”. It’s out of print, but still available from the US. She provides a cornucopia of ideas from nourishing soups, fritters and pancakes to cosmetic uses of dandelions.

I played with dandelions a lot during 2008. She was a real ally in helping my body return to a state of balance where my ankles no longer swelled if I sat at my desk all day or stood in front of a group of people during one of my workshops.

The root is historically ally to the liver and Christopher Hedley recommends it for any digestive problems or long term treatment of gall-stones. When my hairdresser was complaining of digestive upsets several years ago, I recommended she try some dandelion tea. I warned her about the bitter taste, but she said she loved it!

Dandelion leaves support the kidneys and bring real excitement to any salad especially when coupled with sorrel leaves! The leaves are best picked before the plant flowers or they can become too bitter afterwards. I remember picking leaves in driving sleet last March, which not only shows how appalling our Easter weather was, but also how desperate I was to gather my own medicine and not be reliant on store-bought produce. Even when the leaves were dried, they still retained a more vibrant colour than the bought dandelion leaves.

My salads are never measured or weighed, but my friend, Debs Cook from The Herb Society produced a delightful dandelion salad and soup when she appeared last year in Countryfile on BBC1 last April. You can find the recipes here.

One of the new dandelion parts I played with last year was dandelion flower. We made the essence during a workshop in May. I thought the flower essence was for happiness, but I was delighted to see a wonderful story given in Matt Woods’ book, “The Practice of Traditional Western Herbalism” where an eight year old girl, who was being thoroughly obnoxious to her entire family, completely changed her nature when given a few drops of dandelion flower essence. Unfortunately I didn’t keep any of the flower remedy after the workshop but I shall be making some more this year to offer to harassed parents!

It was dandelion syrup which really turned Chris onto herbal products. I made two batches last Spring. We poured it over porridge for breakfast and Chris decided it made a really nice addition to his mid-morning coffee while I was away at work. I used Non Shaw and Christopher Hedley’s basic recipe for making syrups, inspired by Henriette’s eulogy about dandelion syrup in her blog.

I also made some dandelion flower salve. The sunshine yellow oil makes everyone smile! I was so glad I did, because one lady who came to my workshops had recently had a double mastectomy and she found the salve really helpful in soothing her scar tissue.

I have often thought you cannot really claim to know a plant until you have gathered and used every part of them. Although I have shared many experiences with dandelion, I suspect there are many more secrets she has yet to reveal!

Bitters: Herbs which promote release?

This month’s Herbwifery forum blog party hosted by Kiva Rose is about bitters. You can find all the articles at http://bearmedicineherbals.com/?p=460

Bitters is something we think we instinctively recognise. It is a primal taste sensation on our tongue along with sweet, sour, salt and the new one, umami (fullness). Most herb books give the definition of a bitter as something which stimulate the stages of digestion including increasing saliva production and gastric juice activity including bile release (Brigitte Mars).

Jim MacDonald (http://www.herbcraft.org/properties.html) expands on this a little further by saying “Bitter herbs stimulate the secretion of digestive acids, juices and enzymes, which generally improve appetite & digestion, especially of fats/oils/lipids. You must taste bitters to receive their medicinal virtues. There are aromatic bitters (Calamus), bittersweet bitters (Celastrus), and just plain bitter bitters (Boneset).” I only know boneset out of Jim’s three examples, so I would change my herbs to angelica (aromatic bitter) and burdock (bittersweet bitter).

The herb I thought to talk about originally was dandelion (taraxacum officinale). It is perhaps the easiest herb to get close to when you are trying to understand the principle of a bitter. The leaves eaten raw stimulate your taste buds to such an extent, you know they are doing what they’re meant to do. They are wonderful additions to salads with other green leaves. I like to add them to cheese or ham sandwiches along with chickweed or sorrel. The sharpness of the greens works particularly well with the heavy fat of cheddar cheese.

I’ve been working very closely with dandelion this year. There is nothing like picking the first green leaves in winter time when it’s blowing a bitter gale laced with snowflakes and your fingers freeze as you dig up roots. While dandelion leaves support the kidneys and pack a massive dose of potassium, the roots, also bitter, support the liver.

David Hoffman advocates harvesting roots in the winter while they are at their most bitter. Brigitte Mars suggests harvesting roots in the spring when complex carbohydrates are broken down and released as sugars. I have a certain problem with this.

Before retirement, my father was a small farmer with a herd of suckler cows. He told me the animals would search out dandelion roots in the autumn when the roots were sweetest and would ignore them in the spring when the roots were bitter. I have given my workshop attendees roots to chew at different times of the year and they have all reported, as I have found, that spring roots are incredibly bitter and autumn roots are fat, juicy and have an unexpected sweetness to them.

Anyway, I digress. I didn’t want to get drawn into talking too much about dandelion, because there are many other bitter herbs which I grow or which grow around me. The ones which particularly spring to mind are burdock, angelica, motherwort, calendula, chamomile, vervain, boneset and the bright, vermillion splendour of rowan berries.

You only have to drink a cup of burdock leaf tea to know that the plant is a bitter. Burdock (arcticum lappa) is described by Matthew Wood as bitter, sweet and oily. He believes it acts as an alterative (tonic), stimulating increased secretion of bile, which in turn promotes better absorption of fats and oils through the small intestine.

Burdock supports the liver and helps with dry skin conditions. The root is said to be a quick acting diuretic (20 minutes after chewing) and has also been praised for stimulating appetite after severe illness when added to stews. (Miriam Kresh, Israel) Jim recommends it for cancer patients when they require nourishment during chemotherapy – again adding the root or young leaf stalks to stews or bone broths.

Angelica (angelica archangelica) is an aromatic, warming bitter. I always encourage my workshop attendees to smell the scent of angelica and everyone loves it. They’re not quite so keen when I give them angelica leaf tea to try, because of its bitterness. Chewing angelica root is an experience! It resembles chewing a bottle of scent and is really quite revolting, yet this root is the part which can take away the intense pain of fibroids. They also make an interesting liqueur if left for several years to mature.

Motherwort (Leonurus cardiaca) is another, interesting bitter herb. It helps regulate temperature during menopause, reduces period pains and is a gentle nervine tonic. A tea made from its aerial parts is an intensely bitter brew, but can be alleviated by mixing with lemon balm. There is an old saying that if you need something, you will be attracted to it and its bitterness will be tolerable.

Chamomile (Matricaria chamomilla ) is supposed to be a mild herb, enjoyed by all for its carmative, calming and restorative functions. Commercial chamomile tea bags have a gentle, soothing taste. The first time I grew the herb myself and made a cup of tea, I was horrified by the dreadful, bitter flavour. I was sure I must have been sent the wrong kind of chamomile. When I moaned to my herbalist friend, she laughed at me. “Chamomile is a bitter. You have tasted the proper taste of the herb!”

Calendula (calendula officinilis) is a herb you wouldn’t normally associate as a bitter, yet Matthew Wood classes its taste as such. He talks about its use for deep fevers and people who are “bone weary”, quoting herbalist Matthew Becker who likened it to boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum).

It is curious that calendula, boneset and vervain (verbena officinalis) are all recommended for severe, bone aching fevers. Both boneset and vervain are incredibly bitter to the taste when taken in tea. Vervain can make you shudder from head to toe if the tea is too strong, even when taken with other herbs.

This diversity of actions by bitter herbs got me thinking about a possible basic principle of bitters, that of causing/promoting release or letting go. Since every herb has an affinity with a particular part of the body, there will be different secretions or emotions or other tissue states which are released. Dandelion releases digestive secretions, burdock releases bile, vervain releases both fevers and the need to keep on keeping on, which could otherwise be described as personal intensity. Boneset releases the intensity of aching bones.

So where do rowan berries come in all this? Several years ago my herbalist friend presented me with a jar of rowan jelly. “You’ll like it,” she said, “herb people like bitter flavours.” I took it home and put it on the dinner table with a Sunday roast. Everyone tried it, but they all agreed the sweetness of the jelly was overtaken by the bitterness of the rowan berries. I could just about tolerate it, but one day I shall make my own and see if my tastes have changed!

References:

Hoffman, D The Complete Illustrated Holistic Herbal 1996 Element Books

Mars, B Dandelion Medicine 1999 Storey Books

Wood, M The Practice of Traditional Western Herbalism : Basic Doctrine, Energetics and Classification 2004 North Atlantic Books

Developing relationships

Getting to know a plant is a continuing joy. It doesn’t happen quickly, but over a period of several years, circumstances enable you to meet them in many different guises.

Last year, nettle was the herb which really showed me a wealth of different perspectives. Nettle has always been the first fresh herb tea I make each year. When March arrives it is the only green growth with sufficient profusion to gather for tea. It tastes wonderful, freshly brewed and hot, to be sipped and savoured with your hands cupped around the mug to gather warmth into yourself.

Nettle soup is always a favourite and this year I experimented with adding it to sweet potatoes and cardamom pods which was a great hit with everyone.

1 large sweet potato (peeled and sliced)
One colander full of fresh nettle tops
1 onion (peeled and chopped)
2 leeks (washed and sliced)
3 carrots (scraped and sliced)
6 green cardamom seeds
1 inch of root ginger (peeled and chopped) (optional)
Salt and pepper to taste.
1oz butter

Sweat the onion and leeks in the butter in a large (5pint) saucepan until soft. Add the rest of the vegetables and cover with either cold or boiling water. Season. Bring to the boil and simmer for 20 minutes. When the vegetables are soft, remove the cardamom seeds and liquidise. Serve with fresh, granary bread.

So far this year I have put up nettle tincture and nettle vinegar which are awaiting decanting. On Saturday night I picked a whole basket of nettles from the bottom of the garden and tonight I shall put them into a paper bag to sit in the hot cupboard in the kitchen until they are dry. I’m looking forward to the summer when I shall try tincturing some fresh nettle seeds and drying others, to add to my porridge and yoghurt when I feel especially run down.

In the autumn I shall dig more nettle roots to make tincture for Chris.

Dandelion is another plant which has thrust itself into my notice over the past few months. I have always eaten the leaves in salads and sandwiches during the spring and summer, but I’ve not prepared a great deal of dried root or fresh leaf tincture.

In January, I braved the biting winds to dig plump roots to make tincture. It had a definite, sweet aftertaste. Easter saw me picking young, fresh leaves for drying in the bitter winds and snow. I’m now using these in my daily work tea alongside other, nourishing and soothing herbs. I shall need to pick more to both dry and tincture, to add to the jar which is already macerating in the larder.

Eating dandelion flowers has been another first for me this year. I’ve also made a beautiful, yellow mixed flower and leaf oil and salve and a subtle flower, sweet Cecily and cardomon syrup which is great on my morning porridge. I want to repeat both oil and syrup using just dandelion flowers which will mean a significant picking foray in the field this weekend.

Dandelion Flower Salve
4oz fresh dandelion flowers
Enough sunflower oil to cover 2oz of flowers (around 8 fluid ounces)
Either a double saucepan or a stainless steel pot with a lid small enough to place inside another saucepan.
Water
1.25oz beeswax (sufficient to thicken 8 fl ozs of infused herbal oil)

Place half of the flowers in the inner pan and cover with sunflower oil. Replace the lid firmly and place inside the other saucepan which is about half filled with water. Bring to the boil and simmer for two hours. Do not let the pan boil dry! Remove the inner pan and strain off the oil through a sieve, squeezing the flowers with a wooden spoon to remove as much oil as possible. Place the remainder of the dandelion flowers in the inner pan and pour over the oil from the first infusion. Replace the lid firmly and heat the oil in the outer pan for a further two hours. Strain the oil into a clean glass jar and cap with a screw top lid. Label and date. Let the infused oil sit for about three days to make sure any water content separates out. Decant oil, discarding the oil/water mixture at the bottom of the jar. If water drops are left in the infused oil it will go off more quickly.

To make the oil into a salve, pour 8 oz oil into the inner pan of the double saucepan. and heat. Grate the beeswax into the hot infused oil and stir with a wooden spoon until it melts. Test the thickness of the salve by dropping a few drops into a small cup of cold water then rubbing it between your thumb and fingers. If it is not thick enough, add more wax. When it reaches a suitable consistency, pour into small jars and seal. The salve will thicken and change colour on cooling. Use dandelion flower salve to nourish breast tissue.

The third herb which has been attracting my attention this year has been bramble. I’ve known for some time that bramble leaves could help stomach upsets, but apart from the odd tea with leaves or blackberries, I’ve never paid the plant much heed. Bramble briars have been something to attack and remove from my gardens before they take over any available space. I leave any briars which flower in the hope I’ll benefit from the resulting blackberries in the autumn.

It was Joyce Wardwell’s book, “The Herbal Home Remedy Book: Simple Recipes for Tinctures, Teas, Salves, Wines and Syrups” which gave me confidence to get to know bramble at a deeper level. She has a recipe for bramble root vinegar, which is apparently a well-known American home recipe for diarrhoea. Someone else on Henriette’s herblist recently posted that she tried the vinegar for her IBS flare up and found immediate relief from the pain.

It seemed strange making a root tincture at the Spring Equinox, when it is an activity I usually keep for the Autumn Equinox. Studying roots always seems to me to provide an opportunity for considering wholeness and balance because you are considering the entire plant, not just the aerial parts, which is often the case during the rest of the year.

It was such a privilege handling the spring roots of bramble. You could see the old, hard wood of the previous year and the new, red-tinged shoots of new growth. It gave me a totally new perspective on Spring and on this plant.

The original jar of vinegar was ready to decant on Sunday. I’d added the shell of a hard boiled egg to increase the mineral content. It completely disappeared and I forgot I’d added it to the roots until I read the label! The vinegar is very dark and earthy. I strained it carefully because there was still soil on the roots despite all my scrubbing! It tasted rich with a sweet afternote which was not unpleasant. Normally, tasting neat herbal vinegar makes your mouth pucker, but this one didn’t, which surprised me, especially as I was expecting a degree of astringency!

There were more stray brambles in the garden, so I decided to dig them up and make another vinegar using both the new leaves and the roots. Again, it was an amazing experience sitting on the warm patio in the sunshine stroking the velvet softness of the new leaves and combing my fingers through the root hairs before I scrubbed them.

Bramble vinegar
Dig up at least six bramble roots. Cut the new leaves from any briars before discarding. Remove excess soil from roots then scrub in cold water until all soil is removed. Rinse roots in fresh water and chop into small, 1 inch pieces with secuteurs. Place bramble leaves in a large glass jar (2lbs) and snip with long scissors. Add the root pieces and cover with cider vinegar. Poke well with a chopstick to remove air bubbles and fill the jar again so no part of the root or leaf is exposed to the air. Label and date. Place in a warm, dark place for three weeks, shaking occasionally. Strain off all the roots and leaves, squeezing leaves to remove excess vinegar. Strain the vinegar again through a fine sieve or kitchen paper to remove any soil. Pour into clean bottle with screw top lid. Label and date. Use in salad dressings or with honey and boiling water to make a soothing drink.

Someone on the Herbwifery Forum recently said they believed brambles to be vicious and unforgiving. I know that’s true, but on Sunday I was able to experience a more gentle side to the plant which David Attenborough highlighted in his “Secret life of plants” as the most efficient and aggressive coloniser of any free space.

Tasting the Garden

Chris was away painting the caravan last night, so I walked home from the station in glorious sunshine and was able to go out into the garden to survey what might be around to make up the accompanying salad for my macaroni cheese.

Dandelions were everywhere, many with golden flowers fully open to embrace the sunshine. I was looking at one of Susun Weed's site's recently where she talked about eating the flowers as well as the leaves, so I picked several to see what they might contribute.

The sorrel was also growing in great profusion with far less half eaten leaves than normal, so I picked a handful of those as well. Behind the well cropped Mexican orange tree was a mass of new violet leaves. Every time I've looked at them since December, the leaves have been eaten and sparse, even when the violet flowers were blooming, but now, since the flowers have gone over, it seems the plants have put all their energy into growing new leaves! There has been a lot of discussion about violet leaves on the Herbwifery Forum with many contributors mentioning that they used the leaves in salads or to make tea. They have all commented on how mucilagenous the leaves are, which I couldn't quite get my head around since they look exactly the same as most leaves which are definitely not mucilagenous.

I've only ever made infused oil with the leaves and have never been tempted to eat them, but this time I thought I would take the plunge. I picked a leaf and chewed it. It was a total revelation! There was little actual flavour, but it wasn't unpleasant and as I chewed it, I could feel the strands of mucilage developing in my mouth. Now I know what everyone else was talking about! I felt like dancing around the garden shouting "I know what mucilagenous means!" Of course, I didn't - I'm far too quiet and reserved for that!

The lemon balm is also growing well, so several shoots were added to the salad mix. It took me a while to find the "Jack by the hedge". The plants were hiding at the back of blackcurrant bush but flowering although they were only about 18 inches high - very small compared with the 3-4 feet they reach in summer. Debs admonished me for pulling them all up when she visited last year, so again, I took the plunge and chewed some leaves. They were amazing - full of flavour with a faint garlic tang to it. The large leaves also went into the salad mix!

A few sprigs of St John's wort and mint completed my gathering. My garden tour showed up how much weeding I still have to do as the creeping buttercup and hedge woundwort have really taken over some patches. It was lovely to see the new pansies still blooming everywhere and the new stocks are also beginning to flower. The new leaves of the goldenseal are beginning to unfurl and the black cohosh has uncurled its leaves. Maybe on Sunday it will be dry enough to get out and attach things with a fork!

Later on, I made up some new tincture concoctions for myself and Chris, since both our bottles were empty. Mine has a mixture of hawthorn flower, nettle, burdock, vervain, cleavers and dandelion root with a couple of teaspoons of rue and horsechestnut seed. Chris' is more straightforward - hawthorn flower, nettle root and a touch of dandelion root. We take a small dose at breakfast in orange juice to accompany our porridge.