Making your own: Green Powder

Several years ago, we were sitting in the summerhouse at the Sanctuary eating our lunch and one of my apprentices started talking about green powder. I’d never heard the term before but apparently it was something sold in health food shops for large sums of money. The shop variety contained spirulina and other green “superfoods” and the idea was to add it to your daily smoothie along with other nutritious fruits or vegetables.

Later the same year, my friend and herbalist, Lynne Tynan-Cashmore presented me with a jar of homemade green powder which she added to soups, stocks and stews during the winter to boost the immune system and keep everyone as well as possible. I began to do the same. Every time I made spaghetti bolognaise sauce, fish stew, sausage stew or impossible quiche, I sprinkled in a scoop of green powder. I also added it to bones when making stock.

The powder disappeared into the food but definitely added a richness and flavour. I was completely sold on the idea that green powder enhances whatever you are cooking and helps stave off winter lurgies.

There was no way I was going to spend money in a shop when this was something I could easily make at home. What plants would be suitable?

The first thing to do when making something for the first time is to wander around your harvesting area and decide what is there. Whether this is your garden or a local park, canal side or woodland, you need to be certain you can identify the plant correctly to ensure it is edible before you pick it. If you’re in a public space you also need to have permission of the landowner (if you’re on farmland) and make sure the plants aren’t contaminated by dogs, cats, foxes, rats or pesticides.

My basic ingredients for green powder are ground elder and nettles. Ground elder is a major invasive weed introduced to the UK by the Romans to provide a green vegetable during the hunger gap in springtime. You must only pick the young shoots as older plant parts will give you the “runs”. It is chock full of vitamin C and minerals.

Nettles also have to be picked early before they produce their strings of flowers in late May (earlier if the weather is hot). I tend to pick the top four leaves to eat in spring, then do a major harvest of vibrant green leaves to dry in early May. These get stored in jars for nettle chai and other drinks or for adding to soups and stews.

The more you pick nettles, the more new growth you will produce and the longer you will be able to harvest. Nettles are also packed full of minerals and vitamins and are invaluable both as food and medicine.

Other useful green leaves which grow in my garden are sweet violets (plants introduced from the farm) and sea holly (a plant bought specially because the young leaves can be eaten in salad in the spring). You could add fresh hawthorn leaves as those have been eaten as they emerge throughout history. Later in the year, I will dry nasturtium leaves as these, too are packed with minerals and have anti-viral properties. You could add herb Robert leaves, since those also boost the immune system, but not too many as the scent could be overpowering and they are quite difficult to dry.

My favourite herbs to add to the mix are marjoram (because I have loads growing in the garden and it spreads like a weed!) and lovage because I love the flavour. If I had enough parsley, that would go in the mix and small amounts of rosemary. Sage would be good too, but I tend to use all my purple sage in cough elixir and I don’t like it in cooking. Similarly, I prefer to use mint and lemon balm fresh in egg mayonnaise rather than stews. You could add it to tagines, but I find my homemade harissa mix enough.

If you like aniseed flavours or wanted to make an aniseed dominated green powder to use for fish or chicken, then adding fennel, tarragon, sweet Cecily and dill to the background of other green leaves would work.

If you have plants like chard, kale, sorrel, spinach, they can be dried too, but be mindful of only using small amounts if you or someone you feed is prone to producing bladder or kidney stones.

How to make green powder

Gather a basketful of green leaves and herbs. Make sure they are clean and wash in cold water if necessary, drying on a tea towel or air drying outside if the weather is warm, covering with a muslin cloth to stop them blowing away. 

Place in a dehydrator at 40 degrees C for one or two days until completely dry. If you don’t have a dehydrator, place in a paper bag and dry in a warm place for several weeks until brittle to touch. Remove any obvious stalks from nettle leaves.

Pound the dried plant material into a powder using a coffee or spice grinder or a pestle and mortar. Pour the powder into a glass jar with a lid. Label and date. 

Store in a cool dark place. Should keep for at least one year. If the powder loses colour and scent, you know it will no longer be any good and should be consigned to the compost heap. Add one heaped tablespoon to any meal during cooking.

What are you harvesting now?

Once again, a year is racing by and the fifth month already begun. If we turn away and blink, another plant has bloomed and disappeared while others stay with us for a longer duration.

I always think of May as the green month as there are so many different tones of a single colour. Each tree has its own particular shade building up a living palette amongst the landscape. In hedgerows, crabapple has thrown a white garment over her branches and the hawthorn blossom is glistening brightly against the vibrant leaves. We’re still waiting for elder and crampbark flowers but they will soon be here along with the blushing pink of dog rose.

For me, May heralds the urge to harvest. Plantain, cowslip and ground ivy from the fields, hawthorn blossom and leaf from the hedges, daisies from the garden lawn, fresh marjoram, lovage and mint for my cooking and ground ivy to dry for green powder. Errant nettles have been thrown on the compost to add nitrogen to next year’s soil but there may still be time for another harvest from the Sanctuary’s strongest gift.

Before I gather, it is always a good idea to review my larder and decide what I actually need rather than succumbing to the overall urge to forage. I know plantain will be in my future but I’ve also made use of elder leaves from Sanctuary prunings. A tree had grown over the path, making it impossible for my father to pass safely on his mower, so we cut back branches and I have made two batches of infused oils. These could either be used in a general bruise salve but I saw a recipe recently for an insect repellent so there is an opportunity to try making something new.

Broad-leaf thyme has begun to flower and the purple sage is finally looking alive, so I shall be gathering both for a new elixir to replace the amount we’ve used recently whilst suffering from a nasty cold and cough. I am so grateful for my store of elderberry elixir, fire cider vinegar and various cough syrups. When you’re feeling ill, you need the remedy immediately rather than making fresh and having to wait for several weeks.

I am waiting for my St George’s mushroom tincture to finish the six-week alcohol extraction phase. This is the first year I have gathered this variety of mushroom which grows all over my five-acre meadow. One of my apprentices picked the first basket after April’s workshop and I gathered the second for drying just over a week ago. These will be added at the decoction stage so the water and alcohol can be combined for a full-spectrum extraction. St George’s mushrooms can be used against thrush, so I’m looking forward to adding this medicine to my anti-fungal collection.

Another remedy which is about to be made is a chamomile vinegar. This helps to guard against fungal infections in difficult to reach body crevices. The plants emerged as tiny, self-sown seedlings which I transplanted into a single large pot. Now they resemble a green triffid swaying in the breeze already over a foot high. I’m waiting for them to flower in the next week or so before I gather most of the aerial parts to infuse in cider vinegar.

Although most herbalists talk about using chamomile flowers, I have always used the entire aerial parts to good effect. Last year, I experimented in collecting only the flowers and whilst they are lovely in tea, I feel the rest of the plant is just as efficacious and shouldn’t be wasted.

May is also the last month for sowing this year’s herb seeds. A second batch of ashwagandha have been scattered from a single cherry in case the germination of those planted at the beginning of April is not sufficient. It took me a while to find where I’d hidden the holy basil seeds, still on their dry stalks but hopefully they will be showing themselves in a couple of weeks.

With the very cold weather, germination this year has been horrendous. Only two of my motherwort seeds grew and none of the pleurisy root. Someone in Manchester offered to share her woad seeds and those are now good sized seedlings which will be planted out at the Sanctuary in a few days, along with Californian poppy and self-sown chamomile. I have still to decide what to do with milk thistle and the plague of borage seedlings. Both are too large to remain in the vegetable beds for much longer.

As each year progresses, time available to describe what is happening diminishes as necessary practical tasks increase. Even though we may not be able to capture each action in words, memories continue to store treasures against more difficult times.

What to do with Bramble?

Brambles (Rubus fruticosus) grow everywhere. David Attenborough once called them the most efficient and aggressive coloniser of any free space. The perennial bush produces biennial stems which arch or trail along the ground bearing large thorns to deter predators. Blackberries are produced from the second year stem and have been eaten by animals and humans for thousands of years.

Many people consider brambles to be vicious and unforgiving. I thought the same until I began using different parts of the bush medicinally. Now I count it a useful resource available all year round. It’s astringent properties are often ignored by herbalists in favour of its domesticated cousin, raspberry, (Rubus idaeus) but it has many similar properties and is free!

Bramble foraging begins in winter, when the roots can be harvested for vinegar along with general woodland, hedgerow, field or garden clearing. It is a useful remedy for diarrhoea and has been known to give relief from the pain of IBS flare-ups. I’ve used it to calm my digestive system down when faced with a stressful day which began with a long car journey, especially when time was tight and did not allow frequent comfort stops.

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. Egg shells can be added if you want extra mineral content. These will disappear over time as they are dissolved by the vinegar. Label and date the jar.

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 the bottle.

Use in salad dressings, when making stock to extract minerals from bones or with honey and boiling water to make a soothing drink. If taking medicinally, add 1tsp of vinegar to a small amount of water (I usually add 1-2 tsps. to a shot glass full of water) and sip.

Brambles in spring

It can be a privilege handling the spring roots of bramble. You see the old, hard wood of the previous year and new, red-tinged shoots. It provides a totally new perspective on spring and on this plant. It can be a wonderful experience sitting on a warm patio in the sunshine stroking the velvet softness of new leaves and combing through the root hairs with your fingers prior to scrubbing.

If you want to make a different vinegar, add half roots and half newly emerging shoots to your jar.

Bramble shoots, seen before the leaves fully emerge can be harvested and either eaten raw or lightly sautéed in butter to make a delightful addition to a foraged meal. They have their own unique flavour – a mixture of “green” and nutty – which is both unexpected and very pleasant. Don’t try to eat fully formed leaves as they have barbs on the underside.

Both the leaves and the insides of brambles with the thorns and hard exterior removed can be made into a stomach calming tea which is particularly helpful for children.

Blackberry Flower Essence

When blackberry flowers emerge, a flower remedy can be made from them. All you need is a clean glass bowl, jam jar or drinking glass, enough flowers to cover the top and spring or purified water. Fill the bowl with water and sprinkle the flowers on the surface of the water so it is entirely covered. Leave the bowl outside in sunshine for three hours. Remove the flowers with something other than metal or your hand e.g. a stick and pour 50ml of fluid into a clean dark bottle. Add 50 ml of brandy. Label the bottle and date. 

Blackberry Flower Essence helps to translate goals and intentions into action by connecting someone more effectively with their will. The soul has many lofty visions and desires but may be unable to manifest what needs to be achieved. Such people are often quite perplexed about the gap between their aims and what they actually accomplish. They give much consideration to their intentions but lack the ability to organize these thoughts into specific priorities, or to manifest and execute such goals.

On an energetic level, such people often have a great deal of light around the head, which does not radiate and circulate throughout the body. The blood is often sluggish, as is the entire lower metabolism. As the light comes more into the limbs, the soul feels greater inner power to take real action in the world and to translate what is spiritual into actual change in the world. Blackberry flower essence helps to chanel this radiant, awakened light to the will-life of the human soul.

As summer moves into autumn, blackberry flowers mature into drupes and produce the familiar blackberry. Not every black berry is the same as there are over three hundred varieties of both blackberry and dewberry, several of which can co-exist and hybridise in the same field.

Blackberries are an ancient remedy for combatting diarrhoea and dysentery. I learned my home nursing from my mother. She taught me to starve anyone with a tummy bug for 24 hours and then gradually introduce dry and easily digested food whilst offering suitable fluids throughout to keep the sufferer hydrated.

If symptoms don’t improve after three days, seek medical advice (earlier with young children). Whole blackberries shaken with powdered cinnamon can be helpful in managing loose stools. The eclectic American herbalist, Ellingwood used to offer a blackberry cordial, made in a similar fashion to elderberry cordial, as a drink.

If you are looking for some thing to help improve access to vitamin C either for yourself and your family, a tasty syrup can be made from blackberries and rosehips.

Blackberry and Rosehip Syrup
Small bowl of blackberries and rosehips (1/2lb of each)
1 inch of fresh ginger root peeled and chopped (or you could grate it whole)
3/4  whole nutmeg grated
1 cinnamon stick broken up
4 cloves
runny honey
Juice of a lemon
alcohol of your choice (brandy, sherry, a good whiskey, vodka etc)

Wash the blackberries and rosehips. Place in a heavy bottomed saucepan and cover with water. Simmer over a low heat for half an hour. Mash the blackberries and rosehips to a pulp with a potato masher and cook on the lowest heat for another 15-30 minutes. Strain the liquid through a plastic sieve and measure the volume. Wash out the saucepan. Return the liquid to the pan together with a lb of runny honey for every pint of liquid. Heat gently until honey is dissolved. Add juice of a lemon. This can now be poured into clean, sterile bottles and sealed and kept in the fridge to use with children and anyone who doesn't like/can't have alcohol. To preserve the syrup without keeping in a fridge (but in a cold place) add alcohol to taste. Using 1/4pint alcohol to every pint of original liquid should be an adequate preservative.

You can make jams, jellies and pies with blackberries on their own, but the flavour is very strong. Blackberries reduce the amount of sugar/sweetening you need to add to apples and makes a better flavour combination and texture. If you are cooking for anyone with crumbling or sensitive teeth it is better to sieve the blackberries before adding to any cooking.

Blackberry and apple puree

Peel, core and slice 2-3 large cooking apples and add to a saucepan together with 1-2 large handfuls of washed blackberries. Add sugar and a dash of water (put saucepan under cold tap for one second) then heat the saucepan gently with stirring and simmer until the apples are soft. Sieve the mixture to remove all pips and serve as a fruit fool (by adding ½ pint cold puree to ½ pint cold thick custard to ½ pint double cream), with natural yoghurt, cream or custard. The puree freezes well.

Blackberry and apple pie

Fill the bottom of a pie dish with peeled, cored and sliced cooking apples and blackberries in the ratio of 2/3:1/3. Sprinkle sugar over the top and a small amount of water. Put a pie centre in the middle of the dish. Make approximately 4oz of shortcrust pastry (4ozs flour, 1oz vegetable fat or lard plus 1oz margarine or butter). Roll out the pastry. Cut a ½” strip of pastry to sit on the top of the pie dish edge then brush this with milk. Lift the remainder of the pastry to cover the pie dish and crimp the edges together with the strip of lining. Brush the top of the pie with egg wash and cook in a medium oven for 20 minutes or until golden brown.

Blackberry and apple crumble

Peel, core and slice 2-3 large cooking apples and place in the bottom of a pie dish together with 1-2 good handfuls of washed blackberries. Sprinkle with sugar and add a small dash of water into the bottom of the dish. Make the crumble topping by rubbing together 4 ozs. flour with 2 ozs. of margarine or butter until they resemble breadcrumbs. Add 2 tblsps sugar and mix well. Pour the crumble over the fruit, knocking the edges of the pie dish carefully with your palm to ensure the crumble is evenly spread. Do not push the crumble mixture down firmly with your hand or a spoon. Cook in a medium oven for 15-20 minutes until done.

Blackberry and apple jam

4 lbs blackberries

1/2pt water

1.5lbs cooking/sour apples (prepared weight)

6lbs sugar

Pick over and wash the blackberries, place in a pan with 1/4pt water and simmer slowly until soft. Peel, core and slice apples and add the remaining 1/4pt water. Simmer slowly until soft and make into a pulp with a spoon or potato masher. Add the blackberries and sugar, bring to the boil and boil rapidly, stirring frequently until a setting point is reached. Pour into sterilised jars and cover. (Makes about 10lbs jam.)

Blackberry and apple jelly

4lb blackberries

2lbs cooking or crab apples

2pts water

Wash the blackberries. Wash and cut up the apples without peeling or coring. Put the fruit in the pan with the water and cook for about 1 hour until the fruit is really soft and turned to pulp. Strain through a jelly cloth overnight. Measure the extract and return it to the pan with 1lb sugar to every 1 pint liquid. Heat gently and stir until all the sugar is dissolved then boil rapidly until the setting point is reached. Remove any scum with a slotted spoon before pouring into small, sterilised jars and seal.

Foraging in the rain (or what's been happening for the past month!)

No matter how good a herbwife’s intentions, sometimes you have to do what you can with what is easily available with tools you have to hand. This was why I found myself, last Friday morning, trudging along sodden hedgerows in my mother’s wellingtons with cold November rain rattling down around me. The left boot leaked so my sock was becoming increasingly wet but I was determined not to be beaten until my basket was sufficiently full of rosehips and sloes to make my suffering father a new batch of syrup for his cold and cough.

My father will be eighty-six next month. He comes from small, Welsh, farming stock and was brought up in depression-ridden Black Country until his mother died from TB when he was ten and his father found a Warwickshire farmer to apprentice him to a different life. He’s always been strong with boundless energy. Someone, who could do anything he set his mind to but the last ten years of caring for my increasingly fragile mother have taken their toll. He needs lots of sleep and worries, so we visit every fortnight and I provide most of their food so he only has to cook occasionally.

Our last visit to their farm, a month ago, culminated in another bout of inflamed gallbladder pain for me. It resolved by the following morning, as it usually did and as my eldest son and his family were spending the weekend with us, I ignored it. It was the premiere of my daughter’s first play, performed by her new drama company and directed by my second son. It was a resounding success and Chris and I were so please her brother and sister in law could share in the excitement.

For me it was the beginning of the end. My gallbladder decided it would not be ignored any longer. After four days of continuous pain I gave in and asked Chris to call the GP, expecting him to prescribe pain killers and nothing else. It was somewhat shocking for him to take one look at me and arrange immediate admission to hospital.

It was an interesting eight days. The care was exemplary; the staff wonderful - skilled, caring and compassionate. I learned many things about myself and other people. The greatest torture was not having two professionals trying to find a vein in both my arms to take a cannula for one and a half hours when I spiked a fever; it was being forced to listen to adrenalin-ridden TV soaps by my neighbours every evening when all I wanted to do was sleep!

Luckily, the fever had abated by the time the Upper GI surgeon came to see me, so he decided against an emergency cholecystectomy. I quite like my gall bladder, even though it’s now full of stones so I was glad to keep it for a while longer. They pumped me full of so much saline, potassium and hardcore antibiotics, I was awash with fluids, hands swollen and deeply purple arms.

Everything resolved once I came home. I could walk, talk, sleep and turn over on both sides without discomfort. A low fat diet cooked from scratch from real ingredients is no hardship although I shall miss peanut butter, hummus and cream.

Did I take any herbs once I had access to my larder? Yes, but I kept it simple. Dandelion and burdock to help support the assault on my liver by all the complex pharmaceuticals, yarrow to deal with all the bruising and nettle seed with my morning porridge to combat all the stressful situations I’d been through. Lots of low-fat yoghurt with fresh fruit to help rebuild my gut bacteria.

For over a week I was forced to rest, doing nothing more strenuous than checking emails and watching whatever TV programmes I desired. It was bliss. I even managed to attend my niece’s wedding, touched by how pleased everyone was to see me.

The following week I prepared more food for the farm in between resting. We had no idea my father had succumbed to a virus brought in by one of my mother’s carers. He grew progressively worse over the Thursday and finished the bottle of rosehip syrup I’d brought him previously. I made it into a tasty drink by covering the base of a small cup with syrup, adding lemon juice and pouring over boiling water from the kettle on the hob.

Making a new batch of rosehip syrup seemed my best course of action since I could walk along the next door fields but there was no way I could visit my herb beds to gather sage and thyme. I might walk down there but could not have walked back.

The rosehips were large and plentiful. I found sloes for extra vitamin C in the rickyard and greater plantain rosettes were plentiful in the lawn to soothe any inflammation in his chest. Chickweed was growing in the greenhouse so was added to the mix for even more vitamin C.

The pan full of herbs simmered away on the Rayburn while my father returned to bed and fell into a heavy sleep. I cooked a lamb chop casserole to feed my parents over the weekend and vegetables to go with the bolognaise sauce I’d prepared at home for lunch that day.

With no hand blitzer, the syrup responded well to an ordinary potato masher, producing two pints of deep, thick, rose liquid. I’d found five jars and bottles to sterilise, producing enough syrup to keep everyone going over the next few months. It tasted good as well.

The carers were intrigued. Both hail from Portugal.

“Did you buy the ingredients?” asked Maria, who told me she wanted to take a Chinese herbal medicine course next year.  I shook my head, wondering how it would even be possible to source what I had foraged when the nearest town is sixteen miles away and there is no internet access at the farm for online shopping.

My father had previously given Maria a dose of the cough syrup I made for my mother’s constant, mucous-driven cough when she was suffering. She said it had cured her.

“You should sell all this, it’s delicious!” Maria enthused but I explained I was more interested in teaching others to make their own medicines rather than entering the maze of commercial regulation.

It’s been a challenging month and I am still spending a great deal of time resting, although probably not enough! My father is much improved and grateful we were there when he needed us and for the full store cupboards and freezers. Although the text books will all tell you to pick herbs when they are dry, there will be times when much can be gained by foraging in the rain.