Now the madness of the holiday season is over, it’s a great joy to have a few quiet days on our own before work begins again. May I take this opportunity to wish all my readers a wonderful, herb-filled year!
As much as I love spending time with relatives, the stress of travelling half way across the country during bitter winter weather is very wearing and I’ve been grateful to have these days when we can relax and decide our own activities.
Chris is out with Sky Symphony today, flying kites over Bosworth Battlefield and planning their new routines for this year’s shows. It seemed an ideal time to finally clear my shelves of the remaining jars which still need decanting from last year’s harvest.
The elderberry elixirs I have left in the larder since Kiva Rose suggested she leaves hers intact until use and it’s so much less hassle that way. If I have given the elixir to others outside the family, then it is decanted into recycled bottles or dropper bottles. This year I even sent a sample up to Glasgow in an empty vanilla essence bottle as a surprise Christmas present for a friend. He was suitably impressed by the flavour!
I had not anticipated the variety of medicines I would be decanting. There were two elixirs – dog rose and red clover flowers – both collected from the farm and each surprisingly unique. I love the rose petal. It is not as strong as the red rose petal, but still sweet and enjoyable. The clover is not as sweet and has an almost bitter afternote as if to say, “I am different, notice me.”
I was really pleased with the litre of nettle root tincture which means there is plenty for Chris’ tonic for the rest of this year. It prompted me to make up his daily medicine. He gets a small dose of nettle root, saw palmetto and hawthorn most mornings, while mine is more a blood pressure and nervine mix. We finished the last batch at least a month ago and I’ve not made time to put the new ones together until today.
I love the smell of crampbark tincture and the two year old jar of rue I found hiding at the back of the shelf made me feel very reverential as I handled it. It was so much easier straining the marc through my new large seven inch sieve (a much valued Christmas gift!). This time I used muslin as an additional straining agent, bringing back strong childhood memories of washing the milking bucket, sieve and muslin after pasteurising each day’s milk from our housecow.
In October, I put up three jars of horsechestnut tincture after liquidising conkers with vodka. I don’t think I shall be using James Wong’s method again. I don’t think I squeezed any tincture at all from the largest jar, making the whole process a waste of time and effort. Next year, if I need any more tincture, I will collect the conkers in early August and slice them as before.
There were four vinegars sitting in the hot cupboard, each a wonderful reminder of summer’s final bounty. The colours of vinegars can be so much sharper than tinctures or elixirs. Sage is a glorious pink if the leaves are from my garden or crimson if gathered from my aunt’s plants in Condicote. The fresh motherwort was an earthy brown – probably from being left too long macerating – and both the dandelion leaf and mint were a clear green-tinged gold. The smell of the mint was a true delight!
Medicine making never truly stops during the winter. I still have two jars of fire cider vinegar infusing in the hot cupboard. They were made during the week before Christmas with the last of the fresh horseradish root my son dug for me in October. Chris had been taking last year’s concoction for his cold and I fell into one of my panics about not having enough. Being able to put up more of something makes me feel so much better! Just in case!
I’m looking forward to putting up some Seville orange bitter at the end of the month if I can source some more oranges from the market. They are such an invigorating start to a herbal new year!
Showing posts with label vinegars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vinegars. Show all posts
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Sunday, 5 July 2009
Fennel update : a feast of red
Some spare hours today saw me decanting the most recent tinctures and vinegars. Ribwort plantain came out it's usual almost black colour, with a warm taste to the slight bitterness. The small amount of yarrow tincture was a clear brown/orange, making me anxious to harvest more once it all starts flowering. I had to protect the few random stalks in the field behind the gate from Chris'enthusiastic strimming last Sunday, but he then went on to leave the ones in my parents garden as he recognised them as a plant I wanted, rather than a weed!
The real surprises were the fennel tincture and the chive vinegar, both of which came out a beautiful red. The fennel tincture had a rose glow to it, while the vinegar was almost scarlet. I didn't think the tincture would go red as it looked a dark green when I first poured the vodka in. It was such a surprise! I hope the liqueur will also have a red tinge, but I shall have to wait another month before that is ready to decant.
The chive vinegar smelled strongly of pickled onions (which is not surprising!), but has almost a sweet flavour to the vinegar. I can see we're going to have fun at the next Vinegar workshop!
At the last one, we made fire cider vinegar and I was thinking of that when I saw some horseradish leaves sticking up above a patch of weeds surrounding some courgette and squash plants. The courguettes are flowering and have set one fruit, which already has had a bite taken out of it. The butternut squash plants don't seem to have grown at all since I planted them, which does not bode well.
I thought I would clear the weeds from them (red dock, chickweed and various others) when I saw some rustling and a huge frog made its way into the safety of the compost bins which are overgrown with potatoes and bindweed. I did apologise for taking away his shelter, but he has lots of other places to hide. I've seen a couple of tiny froglets in the past month, but it's really good to see the adults back again.
The real surprises were the fennel tincture and the chive vinegar, both of which came out a beautiful red. The fennel tincture had a rose glow to it, while the vinegar was almost scarlet. I didn't think the tincture would go red as it looked a dark green when I first poured the vodka in. It was such a surprise! I hope the liqueur will also have a red tinge, but I shall have to wait another month before that is ready to decant.
The chive vinegar smelled strongly of pickled onions (which is not surprising!), but has almost a sweet flavour to the vinegar. I can see we're going to have fun at the next Vinegar workshop!
At the last one, we made fire cider vinegar and I was thinking of that when I saw some horseradish leaves sticking up above a patch of weeds surrounding some courgette and squash plants. The courguettes are flowering and have set one fruit, which already has had a bite taken out of it. The butternut squash plants don't seem to have grown at all since I planted them, which does not bode well.
I thought I would clear the weeds from them (red dock, chickweed and various others) when I saw some rustling and a huge frog made its way into the safety of the compost bins which are overgrown with potatoes and bindweed. I did apologise for taking away his shelter, but he has lots of other places to hide. I've seen a couple of tiny froglets in the past month, but it's really good to see the adults back again.
Tuesday, 29 April 2008
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.
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.
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