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.

Syrups and Cordials: comfort in winter

With the modern emphasis on reducing amounts of simple carbohydrates we ingest, it may seem strange to think about the production of sugar or honey based recipes. Unless you are faced with someone suffering from diabetes or Syndrome X, there are good reasons for delivering herbal medicines in a syrup.

Children are much more likely to take their medicine if they are syrup based (and personally I would much rather give them a small dose of sugar rather than a mouthful of artificial sweeteners!). Syrups can also be helpful when you are using very bitter or bad tasting herbs (remembering not to do this if you are taking a bitter which much be tasted to kick start your digestive processes.) They can also be fun, allowing you to match flavours and herbs to suit your mood and physical need.

The production of medicinal syrups has been set out in great theory and detail on The Herbarium website. If you wish to make syrups from layering sugar and powdered leaves, barks or petals, it is best to follow the herbarium instructions. They also advocate producing syrup which has a 2:1 sugar to liquid ratio to prevent decay and bacterial infiltration of the finished product. If you are producing syrups for your own use and keep the bottle in the fridge after opening, I use a 1:1 ratio as this has always worked for me.

My basic syrup recipe comes from Non Shaw and Christopher Hedley. After you have made your decoction of herbs, you need to evaporate the resulting liquid by 7/8s over a minimum heat. On my gas cooker, an inch of liquid evaporates during the course of one hour, so if I’m making a medicinal syrup from four pints of liquid, it can take a whole day to evaporate leaving me with the required one eighth. That’s fine if you have sufficient time but if I’m making syrups and cordials during a workshop which only lasts three hours, we usually compromise and make a simple cordial which doesn’t require such a massive volume reduction.

General syrup recipe from Non Shaw and Christopher Hedley's Herbal Remedies

1 l (2 pints) water

40 g (1 1/2 oz) dried herb or 100g (4oz) fresh chopped herb

450 g (1 lb) sugar

Put herb in water, bring to a boil, let simmer 20-30 minutes, strain. Clean out pan, pour liquid back into it, let sit on minimum heat until you only have 2 dl (7 fl.oz) left. Add sugar, simmer until sugar has dissolved, pour into jars, label. If making a syrup with more liquid, the general rule of thumb is add 1lb sugar or honey to every 1pint of liquid.

When we were making syrups during yesterday’s workshop, the question was asked, “Which herbs would you not put in a syrup?” It wasn’t something I’d really thought about before, but apart from the obvious poisonous herbs, I really couldn’t think of anything I would actively avoid putting in a syrup.

What I would be wary of is to use herbs which could be dangerous in high doses. For example, several years ago I experimented with a Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) syrup made from St John’s wort seed tops and lemon balm with added lemon juice. It tasted wonderful and I was really worried that anyone with children who might get hold of the syrup could ingest large quantities which might do them harm. You could argue that this holds true for any medicinal product and is the reason why one should always be mindful of dosage and safety where any kind of medicinal product is concerned.

I have to admit, I don’t use most of my syrups in their concentrated form. I prefer to drink them in a mug of hot water. I find this the most comforting way to take them as I don’t have a very sweet tooth and a spoonful of syrup is too sweet and doesn’t last long enough in my mouth to truly savor.

What I really like about making syrups is the ability to create something unique for an individual at this moment in time. Yesterday was a classic example. Judith has been suffering with a lingering tickly cough. It is irritating especially as she sings in several choirs during the week. She was going to make a classic cough syrup of hyssop, white horehound and marshmallow. When I mentioned that Chris has found relief for his coughs with sage and thyme, she added some of those, proving heat with root ginger and added flavour with juice and rind of a lemon.

Judith’s cough syrup

1 handful dried horehound, marshmallow, sage and thyme

½ handful dried hyssop

Fresh orange peel diced.

1” root ginger grated.

2 pints water

Everything was placed in a saucepan, covered with water , brought to the boil and simmered with the lid on for 20-30 minutes. It was then strained and the liquid measured (1.5 UK pints). After cleaning the saucepan, the liquid was returned and 1lb 8 ozs sugar was added. The mixture was heated slowly, stirring with a wooden spoon until all the sugar was dissolved. The syrup was then brought to the boil and poured into sterilised bottles, sealed, labelled and dated.

Maggie was interested in a mineral rich and fortifying syrup. She chose to make a nettle and rose petal syrup, to which was added ashwagandha roots and a small handful of rosehips.

Maggie’s Nettle and rose syrup

2 large handfuls of dried nettle leaf

1 12oz jar full of dried apothecary’s rose petals

1 small handful of dried ashwagandha roots

1 small handful of rosehips

¼  inch grated ginger root

2 pints water

Everything was placed in a saucepan, covered with water, brought to the boil and simmered with the lid on for 20-30 minutes. It was then strained and the liquid measured (1.25 UK pints). After cleaning the saucepan, the liquid was returned and 1lb 4ozs sugar was added. The mixture was heated slowly, stirring with a wooden spoon until all the sugar was dissolved. The syrup was then brought to the boil and poured into sterilised bottles, sealed, labelled and dated.

Lorraine was attracted by the bowl of fresh rosehips on the table. These had been picked on the farm two days previously. She decided to make a warming rosehip syrup with added ginger and lemon.

Lorraine’s Spiced Rosehip Syrup

3/4lb fresh rosehips

1” root ginger grated

1 lemon juiced and peel diced.

2 pints water

After placing all the ingredients in a saucepan, they were blitzed to a pulp using a stick blender before bringing to the boil and simmering for 30 minutes with the lid on. The contents were then strained through muslin to remove all the seeds and hairs. 1.25 (UK) pints were returned to the clean pan together with 1lb 4 ozs of sugar. The mixture was stirred constantly on a gentle heat until all the sugar dissolved and then was brought to the boil before pouring into sterilised bottles. The bottles were then sealed, labelled and dated in the usual way.

Bill and Janey made a spiced apple cordial using the recipe posted last time. During lunch we drank a rose and lemon balm cordial which I made during the summer and froze.

Rose and lemon balm cordial

5-6 strongly scented roses (I used a mixture of Apothecary’s Rose, William Shakespeare and Gertrude Jekyll)

20 lemon balm stems

4 flowering stems of self-heal

4 lemons

2 lbs of sugar

2 UK pints (20fl oz) of water

Remove the leaves from the lemon balm stems and the leaves and flower stalks from the self-heal and place in a large bowl. Chop into small pieces with scissors. Add all the rose petals and mix. Remove the ends of the lemon and cut into slices. Add these slices to the herbs. Measure the sugar and cold water and place in a saucepan on the heat. Bring to the boil stirring all the time with a long wooden spoon. Pour the sugar syrup carefully into the bowl. Cover with a suitably sized dinner plate so all the plant material is submerged under the syrup. Place the bowl in a cool larder or fridge overnight. You will see that the syrup has turned pink by the following morning. Remove the dinner plate and strain the syrup into a jug. Squeeze the plant material well to remove as much syrup as possible. If you want to maximise your syrup, return the squeezed plant matter to the bowl and cover with cold water. Mix well then strain again and drink. (This should provide your first taste of the cordial at a suitable strength for imbibing.) Pour your rose syrup either into sterilized glass bottles or clean plastic bottles and immediately freeze. The glass bottles should be sealed, labelled and dated and kept in the fridge once open. Dilute to taste with still or sparkling water.

With recent drops in temperature, it is tempting to think there is very little produce available to make ourselves something fresh. A quick walk around our urban environment in the noontime sunshine revealed a multitude of fresh nettles and a red exuberance of rosehips. There is still time to forage and make sufficient cordials to keep us through the winter.