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!
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
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!
Thursday, 27 November 2008
The Boring Bits
Pick up any cake recipe and it will tell you to prepare the cake tin before you start measuring or mixing ingredients. You wonder why until you’ve ignored the instructions a few times and realise how annoying it is to arrive at the time when you pour the cake mixture into the tin and it isn’t there. Then you have to mess around with cake tins, greaseproof paper and scissors when your hands are covered with flour and fruit and other odd bits.
It’s the same with herbs. You’ve gather large amounts of various herbs and you need glass jars to put them in so each herb has its own jar in which to macerate and you realise that there aren’t any empty jars around. Or you’ve made a wonderful syrup and you need more than one bottle to store it in.
Several times this year, when I’ve scheduled a particular amount of time to sort out herbs or tinctures or dried herbs, I’ve had to spend the first hour finding jars, washing them and then scrubbing off the label. This process can make me very frustrated! However, if you can approach the washing and de-labelling task without gnashing your teeth, you do end up with a load of sparkling glass with their attendant lids ready for their next appointment with a herb or its extraction.
Do be careful if you’re washing jars and lids which have contained strong smelling items like Branston pickle or mango chutney. Make sure you wash both items until the smell is removed. Sometimes a single hand wash is not enough. You don’t want your herbal product tainted with curry or something similar!
It is best to take the label off before you put a jar or bottle inside the dishwasher, if you use one, because the washing process will only remove part of the label, which then gets lodged in the filter and bakes the rest more firmly onto the glass. If you are methodical, you can put each jar in a series of hot water baths (plastic jugs are good).
Most glues will dissolve or start to dissolve after 30 minutes or so. At this point the label will either peel away completely or you can rub gently with a wire saucepan scrubber and some washing up liquid until the glue is completely removed.
Sometimes you need to score the paper to allow the hot water to reach the glue. Some modern glues are vicious and won’t dissolve no matter how long you leave them. These will respond to brute force and washing up liquid, but you have to rub away like crazy until all the patches of glue are removed, otherwise you are left with sticky globules which are not aesthetically pleasing!
If a jar has a label both back and front, both need to be removed, otherwise you can fall into the “Can you bring me the mustard, it’s in the coffee jar” trap.
I once had to snatch a jar of St John’s wort oil from an unsuspecting workshop participant who was about to pour it into her herb tea. The oil was in a honey jar and I hadn’t removed the honey label! We all laughed about it at the time, but it would have been dreadful if she had poured it into her tea and then drank it!
The moral of the story is: you might know exactly what is in every jar or bottle, but unless you live in total isolation, you need to ensure there are ways for other people who may come in contact with those items to be sure what they are handling is really what it says on the label.
Everyone has their favourite jar or bottle in which to store a particular item. I tend to use 1lb or 2lb clear glass jars for my dried herbs, covering the most fragile herbs with brown paper bags to exclude light. Tinctures I am trying to ensure go into green or brown glass jars. Oils go into clear glass jars, as do vinegars. I love putting syrups into salad dressing or oil bottles or the 'one glass' wine bottles. Somehow it makes them look more official that way.
Where do you get all these glass jars and bottles from? I hear you ask. Most of them have been household items I’ve kept after using – large and small honeys jars, sauce jars etc. Every time we go and stay at a hotel which provides jams and marmalade in individual glass jars, I make a point of asking for any spares.
The last time we stayed at a hotel in Cheltenham during the February Folk Festival, I came back with 16 little jars which I’ve only just got around to cleaning out and washing. Now I feel secure in having sufficient jars to use for salves – mostly for workshops, but some to give away to family and friends when needed. Pickled mussel jars from the chippie are another great source of beautiful glassware in which to display larger amounts of salve.
Just occasionally I will buy glass items which are specific to requirements, but only if I can’t obtain them through any other form of recycling. A recent purchase was dropper bottles. They were handy to carry around during my recent cold and it didn’t look too strange dosing myself with a dropperful of elixir every half hour. I could have done it with a teaspoon, but the dose is more accurate and when you’re ill, you want to make things as easy as possible!
It’s the same with herbs. You’ve gather large amounts of various herbs and you need glass jars to put them in so each herb has its own jar in which to macerate and you realise that there aren’t any empty jars around. Or you’ve made a wonderful syrup and you need more than one bottle to store it in.
Several times this year, when I’ve scheduled a particular amount of time to sort out herbs or tinctures or dried herbs, I’ve had to spend the first hour finding jars, washing them and then scrubbing off the label. This process can make me very frustrated! However, if you can approach the washing and de-labelling task without gnashing your teeth, you do end up with a load of sparkling glass with their attendant lids ready for their next appointment with a herb or its extraction.
Do be careful if you’re washing jars and lids which have contained strong smelling items like Branston pickle or mango chutney. Make sure you wash both items until the smell is removed. Sometimes a single hand wash is not enough. You don’t want your herbal product tainted with curry or something similar!
It is best to take the label off before you put a jar or bottle inside the dishwasher, if you use one, because the washing process will only remove part of the label, which then gets lodged in the filter and bakes the rest more firmly onto the glass. If you are methodical, you can put each jar in a series of hot water baths (plastic jugs are good).
Most glues will dissolve or start to dissolve after 30 minutes or so. At this point the label will either peel away completely or you can rub gently with a wire saucepan scrubber and some washing up liquid until the glue is completely removed.
Sometimes you need to score the paper to allow the hot water to reach the glue. Some modern glues are vicious and won’t dissolve no matter how long you leave them. These will respond to brute force and washing up liquid, but you have to rub away like crazy until all the patches of glue are removed, otherwise you are left with sticky globules which are not aesthetically pleasing!
If a jar has a label both back and front, both need to be removed, otherwise you can fall into the “Can you bring me the mustard, it’s in the coffee jar” trap.
I once had to snatch a jar of St John’s wort oil from an unsuspecting workshop participant who was about to pour it into her herb tea. The oil was in a honey jar and I hadn’t removed the honey label! We all laughed about it at the time, but it would have been dreadful if she had poured it into her tea and then drank it!
The moral of the story is: you might know exactly what is in every jar or bottle, but unless you live in total isolation, you need to ensure there are ways for other people who may come in contact with those items to be sure what they are handling is really what it says on the label.
Everyone has their favourite jar or bottle in which to store a particular item. I tend to use 1lb or 2lb clear glass jars for my dried herbs, covering the most fragile herbs with brown paper bags to exclude light. Tinctures I am trying to ensure go into green or brown glass jars. Oils go into clear glass jars, as do vinegars. I love putting syrups into salad dressing or oil bottles or the 'one glass' wine bottles. Somehow it makes them look more official that way.
Where do you get all these glass jars and bottles from? I hear you ask. Most of them have been household items I’ve kept after using – large and small honeys jars, sauce jars etc. Every time we go and stay at a hotel which provides jams and marmalade in individual glass jars, I make a point of asking for any spares.
The last time we stayed at a hotel in Cheltenham during the February Folk Festival, I came back with 16 little jars which I’ve only just got around to cleaning out and washing. Now I feel secure in having sufficient jars to use for salves – mostly for workshops, but some to give away to family and friends when needed. Pickled mussel jars from the chippie are another great source of beautiful glassware in which to display larger amounts of salve.
Just occasionally I will buy glass items which are specific to requirements, but only if I can’t obtain them through any other form of recycling. A recent purchase was dropper bottles. They were handy to carry around during my recent cold and it didn’t look too strange dosing myself with a dropperful of elixir every half hour. I could have done it with a teaspoon, but the dose is more accurate and when you’re ill, you want to make things as easy as possible!
Sunday, 16 November 2008
Quince – A Tale of Abundance
Many authors mention the ancient nature of the quince tree, Cydonia oblonga. They refer to biblical references about apples actually referring to quince, showing how the fruit of this small, deciduous tree has been valued for thousands of years.
I first came across quince when my friend, Jean, who was my child-minder for many years when Stephen and Kathryn were small, talked about making quince jelly for Christmas. My second experience was at a
Quince is related to both apples and pears. The five-petalled flower is pink tinged and as the year progresses, it turns into a small, green, lemon shaped fruit which eventually grows into a large yellow aromatic pear.
During my tree’s first year, the flowers dropped off and the leaves drooped. It wasn’t happy. Over the following years, it grew in size and always flowered, but produced no fruits.
This year was different. During one summer visit, I discovered a small fruit forming and was overjoyed. The next month, my father asked if I had seen my five quinces. This time I took pictures to record the momentous event.
At the end of October, one of the quinces had fallen off onto the floor, so we knew they were ripe to pick. The five quinces were reverently laid in a basket and more pictures taken. Then we brought them home and left them in the cool section of the fridge to wait until I could concentrate on turning them into jelly and cheese.
It would have been better if I had stored them in a cool, dark, dry place as they would have kept indefinitely. One of quinces was starting to go bad when I took them out of the fridge.
Surprisingly, Mrs Beeton doesn’t have any recipes for quince jelly, neither does the 1960s picture version of Good Housekeeping (my mother’s standard cookbook). I knew I’d seen recipes in my Good Housekeeping cookbook which I’ve had since before we were married, so even in the 1970s, people were using quinces.
I found another recipe on The Cottage Smallholder website which suggested cooking the quinces for many hours and using the juice for jelly and the flesh for cheese, which she referred to by its Italian name, membrillo. In the end, I used a combination of both recipes which yielded around 4lbs of cheese and 5lbs of jelly – not a bad quantity from 5 quinces!
Quince Jelly and Cheese
Wash the quinces. Chop into small pieces using a sharp, heavy knife as they’re very hard. I cored mine as I didn’t want the pips in the cheese, but you don’t have to. You don’t have to peel them either. Add the juice and grated peel of two large lemons. Cover them with cold water (I used 3 pints of water for 5 quinces). Bring to the boil and simmer on the lowest heat until the quince flesh is tender (between one and three hours). Strain.
You should use a jelly bag and strain overnight to ensure the jelly is cloudless. I didn’t have the appropriate equipment so I strained the juice into a plastic bowl and left it for a couple of hours so all the sediment fell to the bottom. Then I measured the juice and poured it back into the cleaned saucepan after I’d finished making the cheese, leaving the sediment in the bottom of the bowl.
Add 1lb granulated sugar to each pint of quince juice. Heat gently until the sugar is dissolved stirring with a wooden spoon continuously. Then heat to a rolling boil for ten minutes. Spoon several spoonfuls of jelly on to a pyrex saucer and place in the freezer to cool for 5 minutes. Keep doing this every five minutes until the jelly has a wrinkled skin over the top of it when you gently push it back with your finger nail. This is the setting point. Take the saucepan off the heat and pour jelly into sterilised glass jars heated in a low oven for ten minutes. Seal with jampot covers.
To make the cheese, place the quince flesh with a small amount of liquid in a liquidiser until you have a puree. Weigh the puree and return it to the saucepan with an equal weight of granulated sugar. (5 quinces produced 2 1/4lbs of puree and 2 ½ pints juice.) Cook on the lowest heat, stirring occasionally so it doesn’t stick or burn for another couple of hours. (I went away to start writing a new short story and returned for a stir every 15-20 minutes and it was fine.)
The cheese will turn a deep crimson and have the consistency of a thick soup you can stand a spoon up in. Apparently membrillo is cut into slices, so to achieve that consistency you need to cook it for at least three to five hours. I only cooked mine for two. You don’t need to cook at a rolling boil because you aren’t looking for a setting point. When the cheese is thick enough for your liking, pour into sterilised glass jars and cover in the usual way.
The cheese has a slightly gritty texture because of the stone cells which are also found in pears. It tastes aromatic and unique and very moreish! I’m looking forward to trying it with feta or other salty Greek cheeses. The jelly tastes very much like an aromatic pear and will be wonderful as an accompaniment to meat, cheese or just spread on toast.
Apparently the energetic properties of quince are linked to purification, protection and exorcism, but I prefer to look to the energies associated with apple – abundance. Quince is a veritable cornucopia and I am so pleased the tree has finally gifted me with its fruit.
Sunday, 9 November 2008
My first award and other excitement!
Debs Cook, who writes Herbaholic's Herbarium kindly awarded me the Uber Amazing award last week, which was a wonderful surprise. I love knowing that other people read my blog and enjoy sharing the information and experiences I post about.
The rules of this award are:-
* Put the award logo on your blog or post (right click on award, save as)
* Nominate at least 1 blog that you consider to be Uber Amazing!
* Let them know that they have received this Uber Amazing award by commenting on their blog
* Share the love and link to this post and to the person you received your award from.
I'm going to nominate Tammy from The Witchen Kitchen Beginner Herbal for inspiring me to try making herbal products I hadn't thought of before and Cathy from Growing Curious who isn't afraid to mix emotions with her developing knowledge of the growing world.
I have another piece of exciting news I wanted to share. My first book of poetry was published by Romance Divine on Friday 8 November. It's very rare for poems to find a publisher, so I'm grateful to Greg Causey for giving me the opportunity to share my poetry more widely.
The book is available as an ebook, a paperback and an audio CD featuring my dulcet tones(!) reading and singing plus my daughter, Kathryn, playing a couple of my tunes on her flute. You can find it on http://www.romancedivine.com/AtHomeAndAway.html if you're interested in purchasing a copy. The paperback is also available on Amazon.com
Email me at sarah@headology.co.uk if you're interested in details of my other published books, which include an Arthurian Romance, an Iron Age romance and a book of short stories from the dark side!
Friday, 31 October 2008
Song for Samhain
Remembering the dead
“They will always be there, it is our sight that grows weaker”
Drummer beat the measure slow
Soft the pipes let horns sound low
Then rise to greet all those who come
Drawn now towards us by the drum.
All around they wait for those
Whose sight has faded with their woe
Who cannot hear the loved one’s call
Who weep for those who went before
We bear their love, their pride, their joy
Upon ourselves until that day
When, as the sparks, we too will rise
To join our loved ones in the skies
Then beat the drum and blow the horn
Remember we are always one
With those before and those to come
A universe of light and love.
SJH 1995
At this time of year, when the earth is preparing for the long sleep of winter, I find it helpful to spend time thinking of endings and beginnings. All change is scary, but it is the one constant factor of our lives. Nothing stays the same, no matter how much we wish it to do so.
So many times I find myself paralyzed considering what may happen or what needs to be done, only bringing myself back to normality by realising I don’t have to worry about that particular event or issue at this moment in time. What is important now is what is happening now or what needs to happen to enable me to do the next small thing which has to be completed in the immediate future.
Herbs are great allies in helping me focus. Not just medicinally when I’m feeling emotionally fragile or stressed, but reading or thinking about them helps to calm me down after dealing with a difficult situation.
Last Tuesday night I decided to pamper myself with a long, hot bath after a draining four hour car journey following a workshop where I’d been on my feet for most of the day. My brain decided to target a particularly frustrating argument I wouldn’t be able to engage in and I found myself becoming increasingly agitated rather than relaxed!
Then, out of the blue, I suddenly realised I did have the ingredients to make a nettle and rose petal cordial I’ve been wanting to try for two years. I was so happy, all the negative emotions completely disappeared and I felt sufficiently content and relaxed to fall asleep once I got into bed.
For the second year running, I have no special celebrations to attend this weekend, but I know many family members will be dropping by. There are two large bags of nettle and horseradish roots waiting to be scrubbed clean and processed along with five huge, yellow quinces – the first harvest from my quince tree.
I wish you all a peaceful and contemplative Celtic New Year as we travel together into another new season.
“They will always be there, it is our sight that grows weaker”
Drummer beat the measure slow
Soft the pipes let horns sound low
Then rise to greet all those who come
Drawn now towards us by the drum.
All around they wait for those
Whose sight has faded with their woe
Who cannot hear the loved one’s call
Who weep for those who went before
We bear their love, their pride, their joy
Upon ourselves until that day
When, as the sparks, we too will rise
To join our loved ones in the skies
Then beat the drum and blow the horn
Remember we are always one
With those before and those to come
A universe of light and love.
SJH 1995
At this time of year, when the earth is preparing for the long sleep of winter, I find it helpful to spend time thinking of endings and beginnings. All change is scary, but it is the one constant factor of our lives. Nothing stays the same, no matter how much we wish it to do so.
So many times I find myself paralyzed considering what may happen or what needs to be done, only bringing myself back to normality by realising I don’t have to worry about that particular event or issue at this moment in time. What is important now is what is happening now or what needs to happen to enable me to do the next small thing which has to be completed in the immediate future.
Herbs are great allies in helping me focus. Not just medicinally when I’m feeling emotionally fragile or stressed, but reading or thinking about them helps to calm me down after dealing with a difficult situation.
Last Tuesday night I decided to pamper myself with a long, hot bath after a draining four hour car journey following a workshop where I’d been on my feet for most of the day. My brain decided to target a particularly frustrating argument I wouldn’t be able to engage in and I found myself becoming increasingly agitated rather than relaxed!
Then, out of the blue, I suddenly realised I did have the ingredients to make a nettle and rose petal cordial I’ve been wanting to try for two years. I was so happy, all the negative emotions completely disappeared and I felt sufficiently content and relaxed to fall asleep once I got into bed.
For the second year running, I have no special celebrations to attend this weekend, but I know many family members will be dropping by. There are two large bags of nettle and horseradish roots waiting to be scrubbed clean and processed along with five huge, yellow quinces – the first harvest from my quince tree.
I wish you all a peaceful and contemplative Celtic New Year as we travel together into another new season.
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