Autumn Recipes

As days become shorter and rain keeps falling during the night, it seems a good time to review some seasonal recipes. I had to smile last week when chef, Nigel Slater, went to his local green grocer to buy blackberries as part of his “Simple Cookery” series.  I don’t understand people who are fit and healthy buying blackberries from a shop when they are freely available from hedgerows. Even in the largest city, no-one is too far away from a canal or other open space where such fruit should abound.

Over the past month we’ve spent many hours picking blackberries and last weekend even the rosehips were finally ripe. I’ve discovered that blackberries cooked with sugar and cinnamon with a little water make the most wonderful sauce to add to natural yoghurt or eaten with other fruit and covered in cream. I’ve also made a hedgerow jelly using mainly blackberries.

Friary Jelly

Put whatever hedgerow fruits you have gathered and washed  into a large saucepan and just cover with water. (I had picked elderberries, blackberries, apples  and sloes. I chopped the apples into quarters/small chunks leaving the peel and pips.) Add a couple of sticks of cinnamon or cassia bark broken up or 2 tsps powdered cinnamon plus half a grated nutmeg.

Bring the fruit to the boil and simmer for half an hour until everything is very soft. Mash everything with a potato masher, then pour everything into a muslin strainer or jelly bag and leave to strain overnight. If you want a really clear jelly, don’t squeeze the bag but if you’re not bothered about having something cloudy (and because the jelly is going to be purple anyway), then squeeze the last drops of juice out and measure the volume.

Wash the saucepan and return the liquid into the pan. For every pint of liquid add 1lb sugar. Heat the mixture slowly until the sugar dissolves then bring it to a rolling boil for ten minutes or until the jelly has set. (Drop a tablespoon of hot jelly onto a pyrex saucer and put it in the freezer. Take another sample after 5 more minutes. If the first sample has a skin on it when you press the back of your forefinger nail through it, it has set. If it hasn’t, keep repeating every five minutes until it does.)

I had 2pints of liquid and it made 6 1/2lb jars of very tasty jelly.

I’ve also been adding blackberries to elderberry syrup and was interested to learn that one of the US Herb suppliers adds fresh blackberries to their St John’s wort tinctures macerated in grain alcohol and water to improve flavour and increase anti-oxidant levels.

One of my apprentices recently sent me some autumn recipes which I shall be trying out soon. I may use some of the elderberries frozen from last year to make this recipe for Elderberry Balsamic Vinegar from Eat Weeds. If you don’t already know the Eat Weeds website, it has some very interesting recipes including one for hawthorn jelly. I also like the sound of the BoxingDay chutney recipe which is available on Kirstie’s Homemade Christmas site from Chanel 4.

After our busy weekend at the farm, the last four days have been spent processing all the herbs I picked or dug. Solomons Seal Root is macerating in a jar of Overproof Rum (£24 from Tesco’s, ouch!). Dandelion roots are either tincturing or making Jim Macdonald’s bitter with cardamom and orange peel while the remainder dry in the cupboard.  Photos from the weekend can be found on Facebook 

All the aerial plant parts (marshmallow, ashwagandha, white horehound, New England Aster, chamomile and Calendula) are drying, along with some rosehips. The wild bergamot went into a tincture. This morning it was the turn of the ashwagandha roots to be vigorously scrubbed and are now air drying on the patio table in the warm wind and sunshine. The large bag of nettle roots, horseradish and the single Himalayan poke root are still waiting their turn which will probably come tomorrow.

I’ve also discovered another favourite soup recipe I thought I would share – very simple, hearty and frugal. es, it can take 2 days to cook, but it costs very little and tastes wonderful!

Pea and Ham Soup (for vegetarian and vegans, omit the ham)

1 pkt of green or yellow split peas

2 bay leaves

2 onions

2 carrots

2 sticks of celery

(Or 1 carrot, 2 parsnips and half a celeriac root)

4 ozs of chopped ham

Tip the packet of split peas into a large bowl and cover with lots of water.  (I usually fill a mixing bowl to the brim.) Leave to soak overnight. The next day, peel and chop the onions and sauté in a large saucepan (at least 5 pints) until soft. Peel and chop all the vegetables and add to the onions along with the bay leaves and strained split peas. Cover with around 3-4 pints of cold water. Season. Bring to the boil and either simmer for about 1hr until the split peas are soft or pour contents of saucepan into a cookpot and cook on high for one hour or so then on low for several hours until peas are soft. (Don’t remove lid from cookpot/slow cooker during cooking or you will increase the time by an hour or so.) Remove bay leaves. Return soup to the large saucepan and whizz using your favourite utensil until smooth. Add your diced ham and bring back to the boil. Serve with fresh bread. (Feeds 8-10 people).

The original recipe for this soup comes from the Good Housekeeping Cookbook. They use a smoked ham bone to make stock before you add the vegetables, but I haven’t been able to obtain a ham bone yet and if you did this, you couldn’t offer it to any non-carnivores.

Autumn is a busy time, but I’m looking forward to snuggling up with my many potions when winter comes.

Autumn Root Harvest

Next weekend I shall be running a roots workshop at the Sanctuary to dig up Himalayan pokeweed, nettle, dandelion, elecampane, solomon’s seal and ashwagandha roots. I may send someone off to search for a first year burdock root, but I’m not entirely hopeful.

I would never have thought three years have passed since I last wrote about working with roots. It seems such a natural thing to do and I still feel you don’t know the entirety of a plant until you have worked with its roots as well as its aerial parts. Even yarrow roots have medicinal properties when I’ve always considered the parts above ground to be the most useful.

It has to be said that some roots are more difficult to work with. US herbalists talk of taking their axes and other heavy equipment to dig up plants such as Oregon Grape root (which apparently must be worked before it dries out otherwise you will destroy whatever grinder you are trying to use!). I’ve also seen pictures of poke root which seem to wind at least three times the length of the person holding it.

Pokeweed (Phytolacca Americana) is one of the indigenous east coast North American plants about which people argue.  The seeds are poisonous so the whole plant is often listed that way. The ripe seeds are used to dye the most beautiful purple colour and the root is tinctured and used in drop doses to help move the lymphatic system or anything which needs “poking”.

I’ve been fascinated by the plant for several years. It was one of the first herbs I bought but it soon disappeared from my parents’ garden. Last autumn we saw it growing wild in the Native American village at Plimouth Plantation and marvelled at the subtle colours it produced on headdresses and matting.

I ordered some pokeweed seeds from Poyntzfield Herb nursery last year but what came was Himalayan poke, (Phytolacca acinosa). According to the literature they are medicinally interchangeable, being used in Traditional Chinese Medicine for various ailments and in Japan as a diuretic. The roots of the Himalayan poke appear to be nowhere near as thick and long as the p.americana, but it may be the growing conditions are not exactly what they would be used to in a tropical climate!

The seeds germinated well last spring and the majority were planted at the Sanctuary. I thought I’d lost them all as there was no sign of any plants when Jo and I dug over the new bed in March. Much later in the year I noticed several plants coming up amongst the prolific strawberries and they have continued to thrive during the year. We shall discover what size the roots have got to next weekend.

I have three plants which overwintered in the summer house last year but only one has survived the horrendous summer producing the most beautiful dark purple flower stalk. Debs Cook is growing American pokeweed in her greenhouse, so we are talking about trading seeds next spring.

Nettle root tincture is a staple in my medicinal arsenal. Many herbalists in the UK prefer it for prostate health and management to the more publicised saw palmetto. The latter can only be found in North America and the tincture is one of the casualties from the European debacle which means you can’t buy it any more. I have made my own from dried seeds purchased from Baldwins, but I’ve always made Chris’s tonic with a mixture of both herbs. I’ve also made some willowherb tincture from weeds in the garden this year, so shall be adding that to his daily dose.

Back in the spring, I talked about making a dandelion bed. I think the plants in the Sanctuary heard me. I have never seen such strong and energetic specimens as those which have grown this year. I am excited to see what their roots are like and am looking forward to tincturing, drying them and making Jim MacDonald’s dandelion bitter. It is always a surprising favourite when people taste it for the first time. (Surprising as in, “Goodness, that doesn’t taste as bad as I was expecting!”)

I love elecampane root. It is so spicy and makes a really delicious infused honey. I usually slice the root into thin segments after washing thoroughly and then put half into runny honey and dry the other half. You can then make the dried root into a useful child’s cough syrup when the need arises. We made one at a workshop last winter using thyme and marshmallow leaves. You could also add some dried Echinacea seed heads if you want to add an immune stimulating effect.

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 (I’d use equal amounts of elecampane root, thyme and marshmallow leaves)

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. (This takes time. 1 fluid ounce evaporates about every hour.) If making a syrup with more liquid, the general rule of thumb is add 1lb sugar or honey to every 1pint of liquid.

Solomon’s seal root is going to be infused in strong rum this year to see what difference it makes extracting in a higher alcohol content.

The Ashwagandha plants have struggled with this year’s weather. Most of the tiny plants have disappeared, probably succumbing to an invasion of slugs, but there are still some large plants which have flourished next to the calendula patch. They will be harvested for both roots and leaves, the latter being used to make a double infused oil.

The roots are normally ground into a powder once they are dried, but I have kept all mine whole. During a tonic workshop, we experimented with a rose/ashwagandha milk by doing a cold water overnight extraction first before heating the roots in milk with rose petals.

The cold maceration produced a really viscous liquid and this was added to the pint of milk along with the roots and a handful of dried apothecary’s rose petals. The mixture was then brought to the boil and simmered gently for 15-30 minutes before straining and drinking. It produced a flavourful nourishing drink which everyone enjoyed.

I’m looking forward to the weekend when we can celebrate another harvest with a wide variety of herbs.

Herbal updates

Anyone trying to discover what I was up to by following my blog this summer would have been sorely disappointed. A dearth of posts resulted from a plethora of stress, knitting and gales (although not necessarily in that order!). Now the autumn equinox has passed and life has quietened just a little I can look backwards and forwards to various herbal exploits.

The weather has been atrocious. There is no other word for it. No sun, no warmth and almost continuous rain. I really thought I would not be gathering anything but I was wrong. It may be small and not as rich as I’d like but there is a harvest and I am grateful.

I have gathered rose petals whenever and wherever I can. There are jars of rose elixir, rose vinegar and rose honey infusing in the larder and two large jars stuffed full of dried petals waiting for autumn or winter inspiration. I also discovered a beautiful bag full of apothecary’s rosebuds dried to perfection. I’d picked them after one of the summer workshops when I felt sure I’d lose the entire crop because of the rain. They smell amazing and I’m looking forward to using them in some ashwagandha milk over the winter.

The calendula crop was initially disappointing. I blamed myself for not supervising the apprentices who sowed the seed then I blamed the weather. I picked yellow and orange flowers and began to be grateful for the limited bounty I was able to gather. We even made a double infused oil from wet flowers – something I never thought I’d do – and yes, it was paler than usual, but not without merit. You have to use what you have when you can.

I was also incredibly grateful for the self -seeded row of plants which offered a rich and healthy crop of flowers without any thought or effort from me. When I went down to the Sanctuary last Tuesday, both calendula beds were looking the best I’d seen them all year and I was able to pick a large basketful of flowers and a whole pile of seeds for next spring.

One of the things I’ve tried to do this year is not panic. Ok, there were very few St John’s wort flowers in my garden. I have given away so many plants, the marjoram has completely overwhelmed the few I have left.  Bees adore the marjoram. Luckily there have been plenty of flowers at the Sanctuary and, even more exciting; I found a real sufficiency of small wild plants when I was foraging in Cornwall. There were enough blossoms to dry for our German friend who can’t use alcohol. They grew next to ragwort, so you really had to be able to identify your plants to wildcraft in safety.

The St John’s wort oil is not as crimson this year as others but that’s ok. I still have loads left from other years so I don’t think I’ll run out and there’s always next year.

There have been a lot of plants I have not harvested this year, ladies mantle and agrimony being but two. I don’t know either of them well enough, so maybe next year I shall choose a new ally to get up close and personal with. Anne MacIntyre’s comments about agrimony’s digestive properties have already got me thinking. I’d like to be able to tie them in with its energetic properties and Matthew Wood’s use for pain where there is tightness/contraction.

Even when I was so miserable and frustrated because of the weather and my mother’s deterioration, the Sanctuary still held me and gave me hope. 

I was picking St John’s wort flowers in a howling gale one August afternoon, thinking how dreadful everywhere looked because we hadn’t been able to mow or weed.The hops completely sheltered me from the wind and the message in my head was, “Never be ashamed of what you have.” 

It made me realise I don’t have to compare myself with other herbalists. Just because they have stunningly beautiful, manicured gardens with easily identified and labelled herbs, it doesn’t mean my piece of land is any less valuable or beautiful, it’s just different.

It was one of those days when nothing went right, but when I touched one of the oak trees it told me to “remain steadfast”. I don’t spend enough time talking to my trees but they are always generous with their support and advice when I do listen.

It’s sad to see branches so bare this Autumn. Oak trees covered with knopper galls instead of acorns. Apple, plum, pear, meddler and quince trees devoid of fruit. Even the sloes, damsons and haws are scarce. I guess the trees are resting after last year’s bumper crops but it’s still difficult to see empty spaces in the freezer and know they won’t be filled anytime soon. I’m grateful for our Autumn raspberries which are cropping for the first time this year – not enough for jam but a real dessert delight mixed with natural yoghurt and honey.

I’ve already wildcrafted two baskets of windfall apples in public spaces this year, one in Cornwall and one locally and I can see me hunting for more in the coming weeks to turn into jams or jellies. It’s frustrating that none of the rosehips I’ve found are ripe yet as I want to restock my dried hips this year. I’ve already made one batch of elderberry and blackberry cordial from fruit leftover after my festival workshop and a muslin bag of “hedgerow juice (sloes, blackberries and elderberries)” is currently dripping quietly into a bowl over the cooker top as I type. Tomorrow I shall turn it into jelly to add to our growing stock of preserves.

The hot cupboard in the kitchen is still full to the brim with paper bags drying herbs and seeds plus a few infusing vinegars. It has taken weeks to process dried herbs from bags into glass jars on my larder shelves but the kitchen table is finally clear. Only one of my ashwagandha plants has produced the familiar red cherries this year but there will be plenty of seed for next spring. I also managed to save lettuce seed from plants which bolted; the first time I’ve done this.

As I was looking at my French beans flowering in the new raised beds today, I noticed chickweed was growing again to be added to autumnal salads. There are still bright green nettle seeds to harvest and dry towering over the mint and raspberry canes and fresh nettles are taunting me to make soup from underneath the patio.

Everywhere I look there is something to gladden my heart and prompt gratitude. It would not be real life if bounty were not balanced by lean times. It is all part of the cycle of life and death and rebirth. We could not learn if we did not experience and could not grow if those experiences did not feed us and grant us riches. We do not always appreciate the lessons we are offered but they make us who we are.

Book Review: 365 Ways to get you writing by Jane Cooper

Several months ago an email popped into my inbox advertising “365 ways to get you writing: daily inspiration and advice for Creative Writers”by Jane Cooper.  Although I write many different things, I’m always interested in new ways to learn so I asked for a review copy and it quickly arrived. Unfortunately the last few months have been somewhat busy, so I haven’t been able to get around to posting the promised review until today.

Jane Cooper is not an author I’m familiar with. She lives in Edinburgh where she teaches English and Creative Writing. She has written six school text books as well as poetry and short stories. I wish I lived a little closer to her because I suspect she is an inspiring and supportive teacher.

I love her book. It is split into over one hundred chapters ranging from “Googlewhack” to “Taboo” and other more familiar topics such as “Show, don’t tell” and “Changing tense”. Each chapter is split between information and practical tasks, giving the reader simple yet efficient ways of improving and inspiring their writing.

Cooper is a very subtle teacher. Within the chapters are suggestions about other books or TV shows the reader can investigate and if they follow her lead, they will find they have devoured a comprehensive diet of literature from both past and present which cannot help but influence their own writing in a positive way.

I was very impressed by the subjects included in the suggestions. As well as the usual five senses, Cooper shows how personal experience can be accessed to provide inspiration and depth when writing. She also includes areas you might not have considered before such as song lyrics, writing spells and first times.

She also includes standard creative writing techniques in her chapters – using different perspectives, increasing tension and conflict, using hypothetical subjects and writing dialogue between family members or other scenarios. The whole book contains a wealth of experience and expertise the reader can dip into at any time and, if the exercises are completed, personal skills cannot help but be improved.

Not everyone can attend creative writing classes or courses. Not everyone has a supportive writers group they can join.  I count 365 Ways to get you writing by Jane Cooper as a useful tool for every writer, no matter their level of competence. Published by How to Books at £10.99 (or £6.37 from Amazon), it is a worthwhile investment.

Celebrating Herbs Festival Programme now available

The exciting programme for the 2012 Celebrating Herbs Festival 7-9 September held at Springfield Sanctuary in the Cotswolds is now available to download. We welcome a wealth of experience and enthusiasm to delight you. There will be opportunities to listen to herbal elders, make your own medicines from personally harvested herbs, sit back and enjoy the music or kite displays or just soak up the peace of the English countryside.

We look forward to seeing you there!

Herbal sunshine: Scenting my world with colour

This post is part of the UK Herbarium July blog party hosted this month by Debs Cook at Herbaholics Herbarium

It would be easy to write about the issues leading to a summer of despair. It is more difficult and therefore more rewarding to discover small moments of joy which shine their rays upon a dark and soggy world.

For me, these fleeting glimmers concern colours and scents. Not the ubiquitous green of mature summer leaves hanging down from thick canopies or the lighter green of sodden grass which squelches underfoot, but the fresh green of teasel, shooting up from spring rosettes to spear the air with their pointed arrows.

On a rare dry evening I hunted dog rose petals. The wind was not content to let me walk along the lane regardless of his strength, tossing my new cardigan and paper bags into the deepest, mud-filled puddle. Briars offered no shelter as I plucked their pale pink petals, so when my bag was full I retreated across a field of stunted lucerne, to fill my basket with white treasure. With this first harvest of elderflower, I suddenly remembered how much its scent delighted me, sucking its perfume into memory for another year.

There have been other white jewels offering themselves to me. Stunning yarrow flowers, coloured by feeding insects whose scent is only released when you touch the leaves. The pink-tipped valerian, whose perfume strokes me as I sit nearby. It calls me to remember other times, other scents which lift the darkness.

The rain has damaged so many of my roses and St John’s wort, yet yellow stars continue to shine despite the moisture. I watch honey and several varieties of bumble bee brush their legs against anthers, adding to the yellow pillows carried there. The brilliance of yellow against mugwort’s green delights me with gold emerging from hidden depths.

There is something special about gathering herbs whilst surrounded by bees. They visit each tiny flower with industrious diligence, no matter what else happens around them. The catnip continues to blossom despite weeks of downpours and every time I visit, their blue haze is filled with buzzing.

Now is the time to play with flowers; to drink deep of red clover blossom or purple self-heal. Their mineral-rich tea slides smoothly over my tongue bringing calm and appreciation. Clutching my basket, each flower calls to me, not for their own sake but to bring happiness together. Pinks, yellows, purple and electric blue pierce my heartstrings, searing colours on my brain, assuring me their honey-drawn essence will continue to soothe and uplift a struggling soul into happier times.