The equinox will be upon us in another few days. Light is increasing, stimulating new growth in so many different areas. Pink strands hang from the flowering currant in my garden, echoing the yellow forsythia flowers draped across the cherry tree. The first few dandelion flowers have appeared in strange places – one by the front door and another in the back garden. The latter found its way into my first fresh nettle soup of the year, mixing with onion, carrots and parsnips to brighten and lighten the heavier root vegetables from last year’s harvest.
Nettle and carrot soup
1 onion (peeled, diced and sweated in a tablespoon of vegetable oil)
8 carrots (scraped and chopped)
3 parsnips (peeled and chopped)
1 colander full of young nettle tops (washed)
zest and juice of 1 orange
parsley
All the ingredients fitted into my 5 pint saucepan, so I covered them with water and simmered for about 20 minutes after bringing to the boil. After whizzing in the liquidiser, it just needed some salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot with wholemeal or granary bread.
Spring is often a time to think of tonics. Matt Wood has defined a tonic as “a herb or food that acts on the body in a slow, nutritive fashion to build up the substance of the body.” Jim MacDonald has written a really useful paragraph on his website describing the many different kinds of tonic, showing how different herbs can be used to meet different bodily needs.
Tonics can be taken in many different forms, from the simple nettle tea, to the complex maceration of a tonic wine. Here are four different recipes for a tonic wine. Two came from one of Debs Cook’s collection of ancient books and the third from Juliette de Bairacli Levy’s basic herb book.
Nettle Tea
Gather two handfuls of fresh nettle tops, (preferably in Spring) and place in teapot or cafatiere. (Wash first if any soil or debris can be seen) Fill the teapot with just boiled water and leave to steep for ten minutes. Strain and drink. Honey can be used to sweeten to taste.
Aromatic Wine
2-pints red wine
1/2 Tbsp sage leaves
2 Tbsps thyme leaves
2 Tbsps hyssop leaves
2 Tbsps spearmint leaves
2 Tbsps wormwood leaves
2 Tbsps marjoram herb
Use dried herbs
Chop the herbs into a coarse powder. Moisten the powders with some of the claret. Pack into a coffee machine, using parchment paper. Pour the claret over the herbs. It should yield about 1 pint of filtered liquid.
This French formula possesses strong tonic and aromatic properties. It is useful for invalids with feeble digestions and will also help with flatulence and other digestive disturbances. Use 1 tablespoon at a time. For ulcers, use heated as a hot (external) compress (dip a cloth into the hot liquid).
Tonic Wine
1 pint Madeira
1 sprig wormwood
1 sprig rosemary
1 small bruised nutmeg
1 inch bruised ginger root
1 inch bruised cinnamon bark
12 large organic raisins
Pour off about an ounce of the wine. Place herbs in the wine. Cork the bottle tightly. Place the bottle in a dark, cool place for a week or two. Strain off the herbs.
Juliette de Bairacli’s medicated wine
Several sprigs of rosemary and wormwood
6 candied cherries
2 nutmegs
1 inch cinnamon
Candied angelica
Bruised ginger root
1 doz large raisins
Pour over wine and leave in warm place for 1-2 weeks
Sarah Head’s medicated wine
6-8 sprigs rosemary (fresh)
2 sprigs mugwort (dried, but can use fresh)
2 handfuls of organic apricots
2 grated nutmegs
1 inch grated ginger root
1 quill cinnamon bark broken into pieces
Place ingredients in a 2lb glass jar, cover with Madeira wine, seal with screw top lid, label and date. Leave in a warm, dark cupboard/airing cupboard for 2-4 weeks. Strain and bottle. Take one small shot glass full as required.
Having made all three tonic wines, I preferred the taste of my version of Juliette’s recipe.
Christopher Hedley has a wonderful nettle iron tonic which I’ve made for several different people. As with all nettle “medicines” the recipients tend to take it until they don’t like it any more or forget and stop, which usually means they don’t need it.
Christopher Hedley’s iron tonic
Soak equal amounts of fresh nettle tops and organic apricots in good red wine, with a little bitter orange peel added. Soak for two weeks, strain and store in a cool place, Dose 1 or 2 dessertspoons twice daily.
This last recipe made me start to think about how to develop a tonic for a specific person. Karen was involved in a serious car accident at the beginning of the year. Thankfully she is now on the mend and I was wondering what would be helpful for her once she comes out of hospital. I put a query out on Henriette’s herblist, describing what had happened and said I was thinking of adding plantain to Chris Hedley’s tonic.
Henriette has suggested adding something for the liver to counteract all the medication she’s been on (dandelion and burdock should be available) and something for the digestive system to help it start working again after all the opiate painkillers she’s taken. She suggested prunes, figs, mallow or plantain seeds. I inadvertently dug up a marshmallow root recently, so it can be added to the mixture along with some dried prunes and figs. These can be eaten in very small doses once they have macerated for a couple of weeks or whizzed up with the infused Madeira.
Henrietta also suggested rose petals and rescue remedy. I still have some dried dogrose and apothecary’s rose petals from last summer, so I can add those to the mix. Hopefully we should be able to gather everything else during the next workshop on March 28th then Karen’s friend, Julie, can take it home with her to give Karen when it’s ready.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Of canals and herons
A heron perched on roof tiles of a school building at the bottom of our garden last Saturday morning as we were eating breakfast. It was still very frosty and he fluffed up his feathers so they resembled a ragged blue skirt over his lower white plumage. This was the second time I’d seen him perch there recently. I suspect he uses it as a vantage point between the two patches of water in Robin Hood Golf Course and Olton Mere.
The Mere was built in the late eighteenth century as a holding tank for water from Hazel Brook to feed the local section of the Warwick to Birmingham canal. Now it’s owned by a private sailing club with no access for the public unless they are willing to pay annually for the privilege. You catch tantalising glimpses of open water from the train as it rushes past on its way from Olton to Solihull station.
Canals often provide me with a means of escape from city or suburban life. When the sun shines I disappear from the office towards the Convention Centre situated at the heart of the restored Birmingham Canal system. If I walk towards Wolverhampton I can check on shepherds purse, plantain, horseradish, nettles, blackberries, rosehips and, my favourite, elder trees.
Occasionally I turn left rather than right and walk towards the university. It was along this path I discovered wild rue and mugwort while a guardian heron slept on one leg on top of a brick wall next to a new block of flats.
It always makes me curious when a new animal or bird crosses my path more than once. I wonder what their presence might teach me. If you search the internet, herons are mainly described while they are standing in deep water, yet my encounters with them have mainly been perching on high places either on tall trees or walls/roofs.
Herons are often associated with balance and harmony, knowing when to connect and when to stand on your own. They teach active patience, learning to wait until what you need comes to you and then spearing it, grabbing opportunities when they arise.
Their slate blue feathers can be associated with the “third-eye”, the energy centre situated in the middle of the brow/forehead. This centre helps with intuitive perception, the “gut feeling” you learn to rely on or, in my case, the sudden understanding about why a person is acting a certain way without any prior knowledge or information. I call it “reading the silence”. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, the insight is profound.
The really good thing about finding a heron near a canal means there must be fish living in the water. Herons are the curse of every fishpond owner as they can clear a garden pond within a few minutes. I remember one eating all the trout in the Sanctuary pond before I left school in the mid-70s and we’ve never had fish there since.
I don’t know a great deal about fish, but someone I met by the Olton canal last October said there was a wide variety of fish living there including a large pike!
What did surprise me during my canal walk was the variety of herbs and trees. As well as elder, hawthorn and horse chestnut trees, there were hazel, holly and sycamore - all mature trees with lots of undisturbed saplings growing up in any available space.
On the banks were dog rose and blackberry briars with plantain, garlic mustard (jack by the hedge), false alkenet, coltsfoot and nettles on the lower slopes. What surprised me was the large bed of alpine strawberries. I wondered if they were wild or escaped from a nearby garden.
Despite the traffic travelling over intermittent bridges, the towpath itself was blissfully quiet; the only noise a gentle splash from moorhens and mallards swimming on the surface of the water.
It was not long after the Autumn Equinox when I walked along the canal basking in the peace and sunshine and thinking about the Irish navvies who created both the canal and the railway which runs alongside. There is still another month before the Spring Equinox. Although days are definitely longer now, I am curbing any impatience to be up and doing. The heron brings a timely lesson - it is enough to be resting, watching and waiting for a few weeks more.
The Mere was built in the late eighteenth century as a holding tank for water from Hazel Brook to feed the local section of the Warwick to Birmingham canal. Now it’s owned by a private sailing club with no access for the public unless they are willing to pay annually for the privilege. You catch tantalising glimpses of open water from the train as it rushes past on its way from Olton to Solihull station.
Canals often provide me with a means of escape from city or suburban life. When the sun shines I disappear from the office towards the Convention Centre situated at the heart of the restored Birmingham Canal system. If I walk towards Wolverhampton I can check on shepherds purse, plantain, horseradish, nettles, blackberries, rosehips and, my favourite, elder trees.
Occasionally I turn left rather than right and walk towards the university. It was along this path I discovered wild rue and mugwort while a guardian heron slept on one leg on top of a brick wall next to a new block of flats.
It always makes me curious when a new animal or bird crosses my path more than once. I wonder what their presence might teach me. If you search the internet, herons are mainly described while they are standing in deep water, yet my encounters with them have mainly been perching on high places either on tall trees or walls/roofs.
Herons are often associated with balance and harmony, knowing when to connect and when to stand on your own. They teach active patience, learning to wait until what you need comes to you and then spearing it, grabbing opportunities when they arise.
Their slate blue feathers can be associated with the “third-eye”, the energy centre situated in the middle of the brow/forehead. This centre helps with intuitive perception, the “gut feeling” you learn to rely on or, in my case, the sudden understanding about why a person is acting a certain way without any prior knowledge or information. I call it “reading the silence”. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, the insight is profound.
The really good thing about finding a heron near a canal means there must be fish living in the water. Herons are the curse of every fishpond owner as they can clear a garden pond within a few minutes. I remember one eating all the trout in the Sanctuary pond before I left school in the mid-70s and we’ve never had fish there since.
I don’t know a great deal about fish, but someone I met by the Olton canal last October said there was a wide variety of fish living there including a large pike!
What did surprise me during my canal walk was the variety of herbs and trees. As well as elder, hawthorn and horse chestnut trees, there were hazel, holly and sycamore - all mature trees with lots of undisturbed saplings growing up in any available space.
On the banks were dog rose and blackberry briars with plantain, garlic mustard (jack by the hedge), false alkenet, coltsfoot and nettles on the lower slopes. What surprised me was the large bed of alpine strawberries. I wondered if they were wild or escaped from a nearby garden.
Despite the traffic travelling over intermittent bridges, the towpath itself was blissfully quiet; the only noise a gentle splash from moorhens and mallards swimming on the surface of the water.
It was not long after the Autumn Equinox when I walked along the canal basking in the peace and sunshine and thinking about the Irish navvies who created both the canal and the railway which runs alongside. There is still another month before the Spring Equinox. Although days are definitely longer now, I am curbing any impatience to be up and doing. The heron brings a timely lesson - it is enough to be resting, watching and waiting for a few weeks more.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
New writing blog launched!
Ever wanted to steep yourself in English countryside or be wooed by a powerful warlord of the Middle East?
Interested in stories of the past which have lessons for the present and future?
Take a look at the new writing blog, Mercian Muse by Midlands writer, Sarah J Head. Here you’ll find extracts and links to romance, poetry and short stories, both published and free reads.
Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!
Interested in stories of the past which have lessons for the present and future?
Take a look at the new writing blog, Mercian Muse by Midlands writer, Sarah J Head. Here you’ll find extracts and links to romance, poetry and short stories, both published and free reads.
Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Keeping warm in the snow.
Whenever I’m worried about something I make soup. It seems to be a helpful way to stop my world coming to an end. It seems to work and my family and visitors appear to appreciate whatever version I put in front of them.
Many of us are experiencing a “real” winter this year with temperatures at or below freezing for days at a time and this week, substantial amounts of snow. I always enjoy watching flakes begin to fall and a white carpet slowly covering the garden and surroundings. As long as I know all my loved ones are safe, with access to shelter, food and warmth, I can relax and snuggle down to enjoy some restful time inside the house.
At this dark time of the year, we need to think about nourishing our bodies and nettle is the perfect ally. Outside in both gardens and fields, nettles have been growing for a month or more. I still have several jars of dark green dried leaves from last year’s harvest, so this seems a good time to indulge in Spiced Nettle Latte – an idea I got from Darcey Blue, the Sonoran herbalist.
Spiced Nettle Latte
To a handful of dried or fresh nettle leaves, add one cinnamon stick, 1 clove and a grated half of a nutmeg in a teapot or cafatiere. Fill with just boiled water and leave to infuse for ten minutes. Heat up milk and whisk to make it frothy. Add equal amounts of tea and milk to a mug, then sprinkle powdered cinnamon or nutmeg on the top of the drink. Sip while warm.
When I made this for last November’s workshop there was a very interesting reaction – those who normally didn’t like milk liked the nettle latte and those who normally didn’t like nettle tea, enjoyed the latte. Seems like a popular drink for many people! When I made it at another workshop, some people asked for a milk-free tea and also enjoyed it.
I make several different versions of Nettle and Potato Soup depending on what vegetables I have to hand. Here are two popular ones.
Nettle and Potato Soup
Ingredients (1) Nettles, 1 lb potatoes, 1 onion, 1oz butter, water, salt, pepper, a few sprigs of parsley and thyme
(2) A colander full of fresh, washed nettle tops, 2 large sweet potatoes, 1 onion, 2 leeks, 8 cardomon seeds, 6 carrots (scraped), 4 garlic cloves
Method: (1)Wash nettles under the tap to remove any insects, cobwebs, dust or other debris and shake to remove excess moisture. Peel and chop the onion and sauté in butter or oil in a hot saucepan for five minutes until soft. Peel and quarter the potatoes and add to the pan. Cover with water and add nettles, herbs and seasoning. Cook for about 20 minutes until potatoes are soft. Liquidise. Serve with bread and butter.
(2)Peel and chop garlic gloves and onion. Wash and slice leeks. Sauté these in hot butter for 5 minutes until soft. Add peeled and chopped sweet potatoes, carrots, nettles, cardomon pods to saucepan and season to taste. Cover with boiling water and cook until everything is soft. (about 20minutes) Liquidise.
Nettles can be added to any vegetable soup. They go well with tomatoes and red and yellow peppers and any other vegetables you happen to have lying around. Dried nettles can also be added to main meals as a crumbled topping over pizzas or bolognais or used to make a sauce with pasta.
Nettle and Tuna Pasta
This is a quick and easy recipe for one person and can be easily expanded to feed a family.
Ingredients: 285g tin of tuna in brine, dried or fresh basil, two handfuls of dried nettles, two tomatoes, 1 onion, cooking oil or butter, 3oz of pasta. (any other vegetables e.g. one sweet potato, small tin of sweet corn depending on how hungry you are.)
Method: Peel and chop onion finely and sauté in hot butter or sunflower/ vegetable/olive oil in a saucepan until soft. Drain tuna. Wash and slice tomatoes. Add both to onion and cook gently. Add dried nettles and dried or fresh basil. Cover and simmer until pasta is ready. Check regularly and add extra liquid if necessary. Cook pasta in separate saucepan in boiling salted water for 15 minutes. If you are cooking other vegetables these can be cooked with the pasta. Drain pasta and serve with tuna/nettle sauce.
Winter is very much the time to indulge in “comfort vegetables”. This is the recipe for the soup I made last Friday for Saturday’s tincture workshop. It fed nineteen people on Saturday and three on Sunday with a little left over for Chris’ lunch yesterday. Chris said his friend was very grateful for its warmth and heartiness when they were kite flying on Sunday. The soup is vegan and celiac - friendly. I might use butter another time to give a richer flavour and substitute parsley for coriander if I were using ordinary potatoes and parsnips instead of the sweet potatoes and squash.
Orange Soup
1 large head of celery, washed and chopped.
1 large butternut squash peeled, de-seeded and sliced
1 large onion, peeled and diced
4 large garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced ½ an hour before cooking.
4 large sweet potatoes peeled and sliced
8 large carrots, washed and scraped.
½ bunch of coriander leaves.
10 pints cold water
Pepper and salt to taste.
Sweat the garlic and onion in a little vegetable oil until soft in the bottom of a large cooking pot with the lid on. (About 5 minutes). Add the celery and chopped coriander leaves, stir, then add the water. Cover, bring to the boil and simmer for 30 minutes. Add squash, carrots and sweet potatoes together with a little salt and pepper. Cook for a further 30 minutes or until everything is tender. Liquidise, season to taste and serve with homemade granary bread.
Last, but not least, if you are looking to increase your omega-3 oils you could try this version of Rebecca Hartman’s flax seed tea
Warming winter tea
Place 1-2tsp flax seed together with a broken up cinnamon stick and maybe a couple of cardamom pods and some sliced orange peel, a handful of fresh or half a handful of dried rosehips and the juice of half an orange. Put all the ingredients in a small saucepan and fill the saucepan with cold water. Bring to the boil, then simmer uncovered until the amount of water has halved from evaporation. Strain, add honey to taste and sip while hot.
One word of warning. I made a large quantity of this tea on Saturday with 4 tablespoons of flaxseed in 5 pints of water with 2 sliced tangerines, but no spices. Several people were unable to drink the tea on its own until a cinnamon tincture was added which then made it palatable. I shan’t be making it without cinnamon again!
Many of us are experiencing a “real” winter this year with temperatures at or below freezing for days at a time and this week, substantial amounts of snow. I always enjoy watching flakes begin to fall and a white carpet slowly covering the garden and surroundings. As long as I know all my loved ones are safe, with access to shelter, food and warmth, I can relax and snuggle down to enjoy some restful time inside the house.
At this dark time of the year, we need to think about nourishing our bodies and nettle is the perfect ally. Outside in both gardens and fields, nettles have been growing for a month or more. I still have several jars of dark green dried leaves from last year’s harvest, so this seems a good time to indulge in Spiced Nettle Latte – an idea I got from Darcey Blue, the Sonoran herbalist.
Spiced Nettle Latte
To a handful of dried or fresh nettle leaves, add one cinnamon stick, 1 clove and a grated half of a nutmeg in a teapot or cafatiere. Fill with just boiled water and leave to infuse for ten minutes. Heat up milk and whisk to make it frothy. Add equal amounts of tea and milk to a mug, then sprinkle powdered cinnamon or nutmeg on the top of the drink. Sip while warm.
When I made this for last November’s workshop there was a very interesting reaction – those who normally didn’t like milk liked the nettle latte and those who normally didn’t like nettle tea, enjoyed the latte. Seems like a popular drink for many people! When I made it at another workshop, some people asked for a milk-free tea and also enjoyed it.
I make several different versions of Nettle and Potato Soup depending on what vegetables I have to hand. Here are two popular ones.
Nettle and Potato Soup
Ingredients (1) Nettles, 1 lb potatoes, 1 onion, 1oz butter, water, salt, pepper, a few sprigs of parsley and thyme
(2) A colander full of fresh, washed nettle tops, 2 large sweet potatoes, 1 onion, 2 leeks, 8 cardomon seeds, 6 carrots (scraped), 4 garlic cloves
Method: (1)Wash nettles under the tap to remove any insects, cobwebs, dust or other debris and shake to remove excess moisture. Peel and chop the onion and sauté in butter or oil in a hot saucepan for five minutes until soft. Peel and quarter the potatoes and add to the pan. Cover with water and add nettles, herbs and seasoning. Cook for about 20 minutes until potatoes are soft. Liquidise. Serve with bread and butter.
(2)Peel and chop garlic gloves and onion. Wash and slice leeks. Sauté these in hot butter for 5 minutes until soft. Add peeled and chopped sweet potatoes, carrots, nettles, cardomon pods to saucepan and season to taste. Cover with boiling water and cook until everything is soft. (about 20minutes) Liquidise.
Nettles can be added to any vegetable soup. They go well with tomatoes and red and yellow peppers and any other vegetables you happen to have lying around. Dried nettles can also be added to main meals as a crumbled topping over pizzas or bolognais or used to make a sauce with pasta.
Nettle and Tuna Pasta
This is a quick and easy recipe for one person and can be easily expanded to feed a family.
Ingredients: 285g tin of tuna in brine, dried or fresh basil, two handfuls of dried nettles, two tomatoes, 1 onion, cooking oil or butter, 3oz of pasta. (any other vegetables e.g. one sweet potato, small tin of sweet corn depending on how hungry you are.)
Method: Peel and chop onion finely and sauté in hot butter or sunflower/ vegetable/olive oil in a saucepan until soft. Drain tuna. Wash and slice tomatoes. Add both to onion and cook gently. Add dried nettles and dried or fresh basil. Cover and simmer until pasta is ready. Check regularly and add extra liquid if necessary. Cook pasta in separate saucepan in boiling salted water for 15 minutes. If you are cooking other vegetables these can be cooked with the pasta. Drain pasta and serve with tuna/nettle sauce.
Winter is very much the time to indulge in “comfort vegetables”. This is the recipe for the soup I made last Friday for Saturday’s tincture workshop. It fed nineteen people on Saturday and three on Sunday with a little left over for Chris’ lunch yesterday. Chris said his friend was very grateful for its warmth and heartiness when they were kite flying on Sunday. The soup is vegan and celiac - friendly. I might use butter another time to give a richer flavour and substitute parsley for coriander if I were using ordinary potatoes and parsnips instead of the sweet potatoes and squash.
Orange Soup
1 large head of celery, washed and chopped.
1 large butternut squash peeled, de-seeded and sliced
1 large onion, peeled and diced
4 large garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced ½ an hour before cooking.
4 large sweet potatoes peeled and sliced
8 large carrots, washed and scraped.
½ bunch of coriander leaves.
10 pints cold water
Pepper and salt to taste.
Sweat the garlic and onion in a little vegetable oil until soft in the bottom of a large cooking pot with the lid on. (About 5 minutes). Add the celery and chopped coriander leaves, stir, then add the water. Cover, bring to the boil and simmer for 30 minutes. Add squash, carrots and sweet potatoes together with a little salt and pepper. Cook for a further 30 minutes or until everything is tender. Liquidise, season to taste and serve with homemade granary bread.
Last, but not least, if you are looking to increase your omega-3 oils you could try this version of Rebecca Hartman’s flax seed tea
Warming winter tea
Place 1-2tsp flax seed together with a broken up cinnamon stick and maybe a couple of cardamom pods and some sliced orange peel, a handful of fresh or half a handful of dried rosehips and the juice of half an orange. Put all the ingredients in a small saucepan and fill the saucepan with cold water. Bring to the boil, then simmer uncovered until the amount of water has halved from evaporation. Strain, add honey to taste and sip while hot.
One word of warning. I made a large quantity of this tea on Saturday with 4 tablespoons of flaxseed in 5 pints of water with 2 sliced tangerines, but no spices. Several people were unable to drink the tea on its own until a cinnamon tincture was added which then made it palatable. I shan’t be making it without cinnamon again!
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
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!
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!
January Musings
Many people find winter difficult. In some respects, I’m one of them. Not because of Seasonal Affected Disorder (SAD), but because Christmas brings such a welter of responsibilities and activities that from the end of December I seem to lose the ability to think or create or do anything!
I say that, yet, looking back, the truth is I’ve done so much, I’m just exhausted. Sleep helps. Playing helps even more, but my kind of play usually results in much less sleep, so it’s a vicious circle! I’ve enjoyed myself and, from the fun, been able to kick start my creative muse and finish the adult romance I’ve been posting on the internet called Tears in a Dry Land.
It’s been a long time in gestation. Chapters 1-5 were written up in the caravan in Cornwall in 2007, Chapters 6 and 7 were completed during December 2008, but I’d never thought about the ending. I’m very bad at endings. I’m good at starting new projects, having new ideas, working on them until they are about half way through, but finishing them is like drawing blood out of a stone. I have to drag myself, kicking and screaming to ensure their completion.
Luckily I have two good friends, Steven and Matthew, who act as my editors. I can rely on them to spot not just spellings and bad grammar, but also parts of the story they’re not happy with. Their comments are usually very helpful and I’m able to change bits, add extra pages or cut things to make a much tighter, more interesting creation. It’s very satisfying when you’re happy with the last few pages and hope your readers will be too.
Chris flew off to the French Alps for a week’s skiing with his cousin and her friends last Friday. I decided to spend the weekend with my parents as they’d been suffering badly with colds since Christmas but are now much improved.
Despite the howling winds and lashing rain on Friday night, Saturday turned out to be a beautiful day (if you wrapped up warmly!). I spent time down at the Sanctuary pondering what needed to be done over the coming year.
The body responsible for maintaining live electricity pylons had written to my father the previous week, asking if they could bring a JCB into the Sanctuary to replace the wooden pole which holds the electricity cables. My initial reaction was one of shock and horror at the thought of the desecration which could be caused, but thinking about it more calmly, I realised this could be the opportunity I’ve been looking for.
The pylon sits in the middle of the top herb bed. It is completely out of place and I’ve worried about the energetic difficulties it causes to the plants. Now, if they are agreeable, we could move the live wires completely out of the Sanctuary, to the corner of the field which can’t be used for hay. The herb bed could be given a totally new lease of life.
The other major project which has to be completed before March is moving the white mulberry tree. It’s grown so large; it completely blocks the view of the valley from the summer house, so my parents decided it must go. I have asked Fiona Hopes, who came to one of my workshops three years ago, if she can find it a new home, so I am waiting to hear what she thinks.
Visiting the Sanctuary in winter is always difficult, because I see all the things which need to be done, but it’s too cold/wet/frosty to do anything about them. There is so much grass, thistles, fewerfew and other plants to remove from the main beds. Other beds have been totally overgrown and need to be reclaimed if any of the herbs I’ve planted there can flourish and be harvested next year.
The winter does allow me to see possibilities. If the ivy could be removed from under the “ancient woodland” area, we could plant English bluebells, primroses, ramsons/wild garlic and maybe other woodland plants. If the stream bed could be extended a little, we could start a watercress site – something I’ve wanted to do for a while.
There are several areas where fallen twigs and branches need tidying up into piles ready for burning, opening up other parts of the Sanctuary which we could perhaps use for storytelling or other events.
Despite all these plans running around in my head, it wasn’t until I began to stop and look properly; I began to see the wonder in the winter landscape. There were several patches of violets flowering underneath the hawthorn and crab apple trees. The bank was awash with thick, green daffodil spears and pristine drops of snow lay on the grass from snowdrops bursting into flower.
I took several photographs to prove Spring is on the way before resting for a while on the bench. A pair of buzzards were wheeling above the pasture in the next field and as they moved to other territory, I watched a kestrel and a rook battle with each other - something I’d never seen before.
The dried leaves of the Joe Pye Weed stalks (gravelroot) clattered in the wind, reminding me to listen, to be present, rather than consumed by my own thoughts. There was a tiny bird flying between the briars overhanging the fence and the tunnel of ivy sheltering the meditation space, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I know there are a pair of wrens, a robin and some finches, as well as blackbirds, hedge sparrows and other birds in the Sanctuary, but the movement was two quick to make an identification.
It was good to sit and feel the hum of the earth beginning to wake again all around me, giving strength to return to the real world, taking the confidence of new life and new energy with me.
I say that, yet, looking back, the truth is I’ve done so much, I’m just exhausted. Sleep helps. Playing helps even more, but my kind of play usually results in much less sleep, so it’s a vicious circle! I’ve enjoyed myself and, from the fun, been able to kick start my creative muse and finish the adult romance I’ve been posting on the internet called Tears in a Dry Land.
It’s been a long time in gestation. Chapters 1-5 were written up in the caravan in Cornwall in 2007, Chapters 6 and 7 were completed during December 2008, but I’d never thought about the ending. I’m very bad at endings. I’m good at starting new projects, having new ideas, working on them until they are about half way through, but finishing them is like drawing blood out of a stone. I have to drag myself, kicking and screaming to ensure their completion.
Luckily I have two good friends, Steven and Matthew, who act as my editors. I can rely on them to spot not just spellings and bad grammar, but also parts of the story they’re not happy with. Their comments are usually very helpful and I’m able to change bits, add extra pages or cut things to make a much tighter, more interesting creation. It’s very satisfying when you’re happy with the last few pages and hope your readers will be too.
Chris flew off to the French Alps for a week’s skiing with his cousin and her friends last Friday. I decided to spend the weekend with my parents as they’d been suffering badly with colds since Christmas but are now much improved.
Despite the howling winds and lashing rain on Friday night, Saturday turned out to be a beautiful day (if you wrapped up warmly!). I spent time down at the Sanctuary pondering what needed to be done over the coming year.
The body responsible for maintaining live electricity pylons had written to my father the previous week, asking if they could bring a JCB into the Sanctuary to replace the wooden pole which holds the electricity cables. My initial reaction was one of shock and horror at the thought of the desecration which could be caused, but thinking about it more calmly, I realised this could be the opportunity I’ve been looking for.
The pylon sits in the middle of the top herb bed. It is completely out of place and I’ve worried about the energetic difficulties it causes to the plants. Now, if they are agreeable, we could move the live wires completely out of the Sanctuary, to the corner of the field which can’t be used for hay. The herb bed could be given a totally new lease of life.
The other major project which has to be completed before March is moving the white mulberry tree. It’s grown so large; it completely blocks the view of the valley from the summer house, so my parents decided it must go. I have asked Fiona Hopes, who came to one of my workshops three years ago, if she can find it a new home, so I am waiting to hear what she thinks.
Visiting the Sanctuary in winter is always difficult, because I see all the things which need to be done, but it’s too cold/wet/frosty to do anything about them. There is so much grass, thistles, fewerfew and other plants to remove from the main beds. Other beds have been totally overgrown and need to be reclaimed if any of the herbs I’ve planted there can flourish and be harvested next year.
The winter does allow me to see possibilities. If the ivy could be removed from under the “ancient woodland” area, we could plant English bluebells, primroses, ramsons/wild garlic and maybe other woodland plants. If the stream bed could be extended a little, we could start a watercress site – something I’ve wanted to do for a while.
There are several areas where fallen twigs and branches need tidying up into piles ready for burning, opening up other parts of the Sanctuary which we could perhaps use for storytelling or other events.
Despite all these plans running around in my head, it wasn’t until I began to stop and look properly; I began to see the wonder in the winter landscape. There were several patches of violets flowering underneath the hawthorn and crab apple trees. The bank was awash with thick, green daffodil spears and pristine drops of snow lay on the grass from snowdrops bursting into flower.
I took several photographs to prove Spring is on the way before resting for a while on the bench. A pair of buzzards were wheeling above the pasture in the next field and as they moved to other territory, I watched a kestrel and a rook battle with each other - something I’d never seen before.
The dried leaves of the Joe Pye Weed stalks (gravelroot) clattered in the wind, reminding me to listen, to be present, rather than consumed by my own thoughts. There was a tiny bird flying between the briars overhanging the fence and the tunnel of ivy sheltering the meditation space, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I know there are a pair of wrens, a robin and some finches, as well as blackbirds, hedge sparrows and other birds in the Sanctuary, but the movement was two quick to make an identification.
It was good to sit and feel the hum of the earth beginning to wake again all around me, giving strength to return to the real world, taking the confidence of new life and new energy with me.
Saturday, 6 December 2008
Preparing for Christmas
Last Sunday was the traditional stir-up Sunday when everyone is supposed to bake their Christmas puddings and Christmas cake. My Christmas pudding recipe is special to us, using carrots instead of eggs. It was my Grandmother’s recipe born out of wartime rationing (we think) or in her case, because eggs were a source of income at a time of desperate poverty; they were for sale, not for consumption. Her three children were only allowed one egg a week on Sundays as a treat.
The beauty of this recipe is that it is suitable for vegans.
Nanna’s Christmas pudding
1/2lb flour,
1/2lb breadcrumbs
1lb chopped suet (vegetable)
1lb sultanas
1lb currants
1lb raisins
8oz candied peel
1 ½ lbs brown sugar
Juice and rind of 2 lemons
1 carrot (or 4 eggs)
Milk to mix (or orange juice)
½ grated nutmeg
Mix everything together with milk until of a stiff consistency. Place in 2x 3pint pudding basins with close-fitting lids inside a large saucepan filled 2/3rds full of water. Boil for 4 hours. When cooking for eating, boil for a further 3-4 hours. This pudding will keep in a cool, dark place for several years. It will become dried up after 3 years, but can be steamed in a steamer to moisten. Serve with cream, custard, brandy sauce or brandy cream according to your preferences.
If you still have any cooking apples stored, here is a German recipe for apple cake which needs no eggs or milk.
Ischi’s Apple Cake
12oz flour (1/2 plain, ½ wholemeal)
1tsp bicarbonate of soda and a pinch of salt
6oz margarine
6oz dark brown sugar
2oz walnuts (or mixed ground nuts)
10oz dates (or mixed dried fruit)
½ pint stewed apples (If you fill a pint measure with apple segments, it will make ½ pint of stewed apples after cooking with the minimum of water and no sugar.)
Add bicarbonate of soda and salt to flour. Rub in flour and margarine until it resembles breadcrumbs. Mix in sugar, nuts and mixed fruit. Add stewed apple and place in greased 8” cake tin. Put into oven as quickly as possible. Cook Gas Mark 5 for 1-1 ½ hours.
At the November meeting of Solihull Writers Group we were talking about our Christmas "party" on 10 December. Most of the meeting is spent on the adjudication of the short story competition before we break for nibbles. In past years I've brought bottles of Spiced Berry Cordial to use as a mulled wine since we're not allowed to bring alcohol onto
Spiced Hedgerow Cordial
1-2lbs of blackberries
1/2lb rosehips
1 large orange (sliced)
1 and a half inches of root ginger (grated)
1 nutmeg (grated)
2 large quills of cinnamon
6 cloves
3 lbs honey
Place everything in a large pan and cover with cold water (I used about 5 pints). Bring to the boil and simmer with the lid on for about an hour. Strain the liquid and push any juicy bits you can through the sieve. Discard the debris and wash the saucepan. Measure the liquid and put on a low heat to evaporate for an hour or so, depending on how thick you want your cordial to be. I had 4 3/4 pints liquid, so I evaporated it down to around 3 pints. A film will form on the top of the liquid, mix this back into the cordial before you add the honey. Heat very gently until the honey is dissolved. Sterilise bottles in the oven for ten minutes, then pour cordial into bottles, seal, label and date. To make the drink, add 1 tablespoon of cordial to a small cup/goblet of boiling water. Sip and enjoy.
You could use half elderberries and half blackberries and more rosehips. I had a box of blackberries I'd picked several weeks ago in the freezer and used a mixture of fresh rosehips which had been in the fridge for a while and dried rosehips from last year. I gave the cordial to some residents of an “extra-care” residential home yesterday and they thoroughly enjoyed it.
Another beverage to be enjoyed is hawthorn berry liqueur, but if you make it now, you will need to have the patience to put it away to mature for about two years or more.
Hawthorn Liqueur
To a jar full of infused hawthorn berry brandy, add 1 grated nutmeg, one cinnamon stick (crumbled), the chopped peel of one orange, 4 cloves and ½-1 cup full of sugar or honey. Seal the jar with a screw top lid, place in a warm, dark place for 8 weeks shaking regularly, then strain and pour into a sterile bottle. Seal the bottle with a screw top lid or cork and leave in a cold dark place to mature for as long as possible (at least two years). It really is worth the wait!
I’ve also been thinking about herbal gifts to make for various relatives or just to have as nibbles during the festive season. I was delighted to see Non Shaw and Christopher Hedley’s recipes for syrup of figs and crystallised ginger on the latest
I haven’t made the syrup of figs yet, but I have made two different kinds of crystallised ginger with interesting results.
I made the syrup by heating a cup of sugar in 4 cups of water, then added ginger root cut up into small segments. (I couldn’t work out how to cut cubes!). It seemed to take about two hours to simmer the root until it was soft and the syrup had reduced quite a lot, so I left it overnight in the saucepan and then lifted out all the ginger, hoping it might dry. It tasted wonderful, sweet and not so powerfully ginger.
I then cut up and diced another large root of ginger, using the peelings to make ginger tea. This time I reconstituted the syrup with a large chunk of brown sugar and another 1/2pint of water to try and make it back up to the original volume. Once the sugar had dissolved into the syrup, I added a handful of frozen elderberries, a quill of cinnamon, 4 cloves and half a grated nutmeg. I stirred it well as I added the diced ginger and left it to simmer for another two hours.
If I had thought about the logistics, I would have cooked the syrup for half an hour and then strained it before adding the ginger, but I didn’t, so when I came to remove the ginger pieces, I had to pick it all out carefully, discard the bits of cinnamon stick and elderberries and then wash the ginger pieces before putting them into a sterile glass jar. The spiced elderberry ginger was much hotter than the plain crystallised ginger, so I left it in the strained syrup and will use it for tasting during workshops or to cook with.
Finally, if you’re looking for a really nice aperitif to serve before your festive meal, try Rebecca Hartman’s Grapefruit Bitter Liqueur.
Slice up some grapefruit peel and remove most of the white pith. Put the slices of peel in a pot with enough water to cover them by about an inch. Add a pinch of salt. Bring the mixture to a boil and simmer it for 15 minutes or so. Drain the peels and set aside the cooking water to make liqueur. Return the peels to the pot, add fresh water, bring it to a boil, and simmer it for another 15 minutes. Drain again (don’t forget to reserve the cooking water).
Bring all the reserved cooking water to a boil and reduce it by about a third. Now add 2/3 cup sugar per cup of water. Stir to dissolve. Let it cool and then add 1 cup of vodka per cup of liquid.
You need to allow plenty of time both for the reserved cooking water to reduce and for the sugar water mixture to cool. Pour finished bitter into a glass jar with a screw top lid, label and date.
When using, take about a shot glass full or less and add fresh grapefruit juice. It tastes wonderful!
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