Archive for the 'Blog party' Category

First Tastes of Goldenrod

tammy July 31st, 2008

For the July blog party on the topic of “bitters,” hosted by Kiva at Medicine Woman’s Roots.

I’ve had a love affair with Goldenrod (Solidago spp.) for the past year, since I first discovered its intoxicating scent and made an oil of it. So far, I’ve only enjoyed it as aroma therapy (not in any official sense; I just like to smell it!) and as a bath & massage oil. Now it’s time to take it to the next level and taste its medicine internally.

According to my book research, Goldenrod is considered a bitter. “The root, leaf, and flower of the Solidago is predominately bitter and pungent…” - Matthew Wood, The Earthwise Herbal: A Complete Guide to Old World Medicinal Plants

Many tend to think of bitters as digestive tonics, and they do have a wonderful reputation for that, but bitter also can be associated with other kinds of medicine, too. I know that “alteratives,” those herbs that can have a beneficial effect on almost every system of the body, often have a bitter component. Some of my most beloved herbal medicines are at least partly bitter. Burdock, dandelion, yarrow, sage, angelica… there are more… These are the plants that ease my “achy all over” symptoms, clear congestion in the lymphatics, improve overall circulation, among other wonderful things.

I don’t yet have a full picture in my mind of the mechanisms at work when these plants do their magical thing in the body (just a partial picture getting clearer all the time), but bitter definitely equals medicine in my mind. When I taste bitter in a plant, I intuitively know that there is strong medicine there.

The bitterness of Goldenrod tells me it has good medicine also. Below are my impressions from my first tastes of it. I sampled each of these different parts and preparations on different days so they wouldn’t all blend together and I could get a better sense of each form individually.

Chew a fresh flower - Slightly numbing on tip of tongue; bitter sparkles on the back. Sharp heat that diffuses and rises into nasal cavity and sinuses. Tongue slightly puckers indicating astringency. Lingering bitter aftertaste mixed with fragrant licorice-like flavor.

Chew a fresh leaf - Sharp and slightly numbing on entire tongue, diffusive (tingly). Less bitter, sharpness fades as you hold it in your mouth, leaving a slight buzz on the tongue and a pleasant taste.

Sip some fresh leaf and blossom tea - Taste is mildly the same as the fresh plant aroma, pleasant. Not very much bitterness (maybe more if left to steep longer). Lovely green-yellow color, which grew deeper the longer the tea sat. A few sips and a few minutes later, marked relaxation in shoulders and upper back. Sleepiness washes over, just want to take a nap, eyes gritty, heavy.

Sip dried leaf and blossom tea - Much, much stronger taste and smell of licorice. While the fresh plant is very complex with a strong note of licorice, the dried plant loses some of that complexity I think, but the result is a very concentrated licorice-ness. The tea turned the beautiful green-yellow color much quicker than with the fresh plant. Slight astringent pucker on the tongue. Sharp, sparkly, licorice heat rises, filling the nose and sinus; lingers pleasantly. Cannot taste any bitterness, primarily tastes of sweet licorice. Very, very slightly tingly/ diffusive on the tongue, much less than with chewing the fresh plant. Mildly relaxing to upper body, but not as pronounced as with the fresh tea.

Other notes and comparisons - The oil of Goldenrod is a darker shade of the the unique green-yellowness, the color of its medicine. I think I would use the fresh plant and/or the dried tea for cold nasal/sinus congestion. Headaches, colds, allergies, etc.

Tincture - I have also made a tincture of fresh leaf and blossoms, which I’ll report on as soon as I’ve had occassion to use it. I’m anxious to see how it compares.

In a future post, I’ll compile all my research on the traditional medicinal uses of Goldenrod as a reference for my ongoing experiments. I would love to hear your experiences with this plant also, so please leave a comment if you’ve worked with it at all.

Rose Toner and Spritzer

tammy June 15th, 2008

For the blog party on staying cool in the summer, hosted at Alchemille’s Garden

I spell “cool in the summer” a-i-r c-o-n-d-i-t…. oh, wait… that’s not herbal, hehe

As you probably know, there are literally hundreds of ways to use herbs and plants and food to stay cool in the summer. My favorite is just taking a lazy walk in the cool shade of big leafy trees, especially near a stream or a lake or a river or the ocean. Or better yet, taking a dip in that water or sitting and digging my toes into the cool mud or sand alongside it. Just getting close to the heartbeat of Mother Earth, where the growth is lush and the water runs free is enough all by itself.

I also like to add herbs and plants to almost every other thing I do in the course of living. I wanted to share one cooling thing I’ve been using lately that is so easy and simple. It’s a lovely rose petal toner that takes maybe 5 minutes to make, plus a couple weeks to sit before using.

I made herbal gifts for the holidays last December and had lots of dried rose petals left over. I wanted to use them before they lost their potency, so was wracking my brain for what would use up a lot of them all at once.

I decided to infuse them in witch hazel, which I also had plenty of. I just put the fragrant rose petals in a jar, poured witch hazel over them, and let them sit for a couple of weeks. The result is a heavenly scented, pink, cooling toner.

I use it on a cotton ball to cleanse my face and neck after my shower each day. I have to say that my skin has never been so soft and clear as it has since I began using this. Works better than any expensive facial product I’ve ever purchased.

I also put it in a spray bottle to spritz all over when ever I want to cool off a little. It’s nice spritzed right in the face (be careful not to get in eyes) and on the neck, arms, belly… where ever you need it. Freshens and cools instantly. And it smells soooooo good!

It’s now time to make some more with all the fresh blossoms that are blooming all over. I’m sure a fresh infusion wil be just as lovely!

Yummy Garlicky-Peppery Wild Greens

tammy May 15th, 2008

The blog party for May is being hosted by Darcey at Gaias Gifts. This month’s topic is “Spring Greens”!

My absolute favorite spring green (so far… I’m sure there are others I haven’t discovered yet) is Bittercress (Cardamine spp). I found this little beauty last fall growing in my yard. I’m not sure what made me notice it, but I remember being intrigued right away. The intrigue soon turned into an adventure of “let’s identify this plant!”

First, the taste

I started the identification process by tasting a small leaf. Since I had no idea what kind of plant it was, I had no intentions of swallowing it just then, just tasting it and then spitting it out.

When you first chew, it tastes garlicky, then as you hold it in your mouth you slowly start to feel peppery heat that continues to rise in intensity for about 15 seconds, then the heat subsides and leaves the absolute best garlic-pepper aftertaste lingering for a long time. Mmmmmm!

With that first taste, from somewhere in the depths of my brain out came the word Brassica. I had to go look it up, though, as I couldn’t quite remember what it meant, even though I knew it was one of the common plant families. I must have read about Brassica in one of my botany books and retained the sense of it, if not a full blown definition. For those of you who haven’t learned it yet, Brassica is a subdivision of the Brassicaceae family, which is the latin name for the Mustard family.

As my books reminded me, all of the Mustard family are edible. Yippee! I definitely wanted to eat some of this tasty little plant. But first I had to make sure it was indeed a Mustard before I would think about adding it to a meal. I felt intuitively that it was good for food, but as a beginner I didn’t feel confident enough to go on my gut feeling alone.

Next, observe carefully

It wasn’t in flower at that time, in the middle of Fall, so identification was going to be a bit difficult. If it had been in flower, I would have been looking to see if it they had 4 petals and 6 stamens, 2 short and 4 tall (identifying characteristics of Mustard family flowers, from Botany in a Day: The Patterns Method of Plant Identification by Thomas Elpel).

But alas, no flowers, so I had to look for other identifiers. I noticed carefully it’s physical characteristics and where it liked to grow. Below is what it looked like in the Fall when I found it. Notice the leaves are opposite and roundish along the stem. You may not be able to see in these photos, but the stems grow in a whorl from a central point. The leaves also have little hairs on them, easily felt with the tongue when tasting.

Bittercress

Bittercress

Finally, research it

I needed to start with some names of possibilities that I could then plug into Google and also look up in the indexes of my books. I did a general search for Brassica, but that was too broad to narrow down. To get some ideas, I posted my photos to one of the herbal forums I frequent and asked my online friends what they thought it was. I got lots of different suggestions, but the one that seemed closest when I looked it up was “Cuckoo Flower” (common name for the latin Cardamine pratensis), which was also a Brassica. It was a bit difficult at first to find any online photos of the Cuckoo that was even close in appearance to my specimen, because it looks quite different when it is flowering in the Spring than it does in the Fall with just leaves, and most of the pics I found were of the Spring flowering plant.

I determined after a lot looking and comparing different pictures that my little plant was definitely a Cardamine, but probably not the Cuckoo. The information on the Cuckoo did, however, lead me to information on some of the other species in the Cardamine genus. I determined from online photos that my plant was Cardamine hirsuta (hairy bittercress).

Below is a Spring pic of Cardamine hirsuta (white flowers) nestled around the Henbit (purple flowers). Notice how the leaves on the flower stalk are narrow and pointy and darker in color. You can’t see it in this photo, but the leaves nearer the ground are still similar to the way it looks in the Fall photo above.

henbit.jpg

How to eat Bittercress

So… plant identified safe to eat, now what to do with it? Well… it’s super yummy on sandwiches. It also ads a zesty kick to Chickweed pesto, which I think by itself tends to taste a little bland. And of course, it adds tons of flavor to a fresh wild greens salad. I haven’t tried it cooked yet, but I bet it would be delicious that way too. You can eat the entire plant, leaves, stems, flowers, seeds… the whole thing tastes great. The flowers and seeds are more peppery and spicy; the green leaves more garlicky, but still peppery.  I think this is the most savory wild green I’ve had so far.

Depending on where you live, you may have some nearby right outside your door. Why not go take a look? Go on now… and let me know if you find any!

Come, meet my new plant friends!

tammy April 1st, 2008

I’m excited to be participating for the first time in the herbal blog party this month, being hosted by Ananda at Plant Journeys.  This month’s topic is “Mythical plant personalities.”  Below is my contribution..

space

I’ve spent a great deal of time this last year trying to get to know the plants all around my house.  I want to know more than just what a book can tell me about their chemical make up, their botanical name, or how to use them for medicine or food.  No, that’s not enough.  I want to also know them as unique spirits.  My favorite herbalists, who often write about their own relationships with plants, assure me that plants do have unique personalities, and that they can communicate with us if we will learn how to listen to them.

So this past year I’ve been teaching myself to listen.   

Long walks, stepping gently.  Sitting in the grass, sitting in the forest, exchanging breaths.  Gentle touches.  Watching carefully.  Tuning into my heart, sending out love.  Responding with joy when they send some love back to me.  It’s all quite fulfilling.

The first plant to introduce herself to me was the Self-heal, last Fall.   I kept noticing it in passing, as I was rushing in or out of the house, off to that appointment or this errand. I kept saying I was going to look closer… just as soon as I could find the time.  When I finally did stop to pay attention the summer was gone and we were well into Fall, and the patch had nearly died back.  But there was this one beautiful stalk still flowering, thank goodness.  If there hadn’t been, I’m not sure I would have been able to identify her.

I sat with her and thumbed through my field guide until I found out her name.  I carefully examined the beautiful crown of flowers she wore, and was struck by how it seemed to want to sing, yet could not make a noise.  I almost thought if I could just listen a little bit closer I would actually hear the sounds.  It reminded me of myself and my painful shyness, and how difficult it often is for me to shout out my song, my truth.  I knew that there was much this plant could teach me. 

This interaction was so much different from all the times I had read my favorite herbalist’s account of a plant, and then gone out to find it and use it in the ways they had described.  No, in this case the Self-heal reached out to me, and not the other way around.  It spoke its truth to me directly.  I understood at least part of its medicine through my heart.

That was my first encounter with a plant spirit but since then I’ve met lots of other plants and began to get a taste of just how unique and varied their personalities can be.  After two years of sharing the same ecosystem, I sense that they are all finally getting used to me around here, and they convey themselves to me more and more often.  I am even beginning to discover certain “neighborhoods” around my land, each having a distinctly different energy. 

The young saplings in the forest on one side of the meadow are very playful.  Last week I was walking there where I discovered an evergreen plant growing at the base of many of the trees - the Spotted Pipsissewa, Chimaphila maculata (more on that soon!).  I bent down to examine it more closely and snap a photo.  Then when I stood up, the spindly branches of a skinny young tree caught in my hair and gently raked its boney fingers through, caressing my scalp as it moved along my head.  I had the distinct impression that the tree was intentionally petting me! 

When I stood up and looked around, still amazed and slightly awed at having been petted by a tree, the young Beeches nearby appeared to be giggling!  Every one of the faded dry leaves still clinging to their branches from last season were trembling and wiggling as if the tree was hopelessly caught in a fit of shaking laughter.  I couldn’t help but laugh myself.  It was a very joyful moment.

But on the other side of the meadow, the forest is ruled by a very wise and commanding Oak.  The moment you step among the trees the feeling of being in a sacred space is palpable.  There is no leaf litter in this neighborhood.  Only many ancient layers of spongy, peaty soil.  There is no sound when you walk.  The air is cool and permeating.  The holy silence is audible.  The Oak in the center is easily two of my arm spans in width. As soon as I saw it I was filled with pure awe. I walked up to it and put my arms around it as far as I could.  I felt loved and protected.  I just leaned into it and let the raw strength flow into me.  It seemed I was in the presence of a fearsome, yet gentle and wise, lover. My heart grew at least two sizes during that embrace. 

And then there’s the Poke that keeps showing up at my door.  Literally, it grew right by the front door last year, so that the storm door would knock into it every time we opened it.  My husband kept pulling it down, and it just kept growing back.  I find this plant the most intriquing yet, a little sharp around the edges and a bit of dark mystery and danger there.  It seems a little harder to get to know, not quite as friendly as the others so far, but I’m definitely drawn to it.  I think it, too, has much to teach me, so I’ll be spending a lot of time with it this year.  

I’ll keep you posted on the lessons it shares, as well as probably introducing many, many new plant friends during this growing season.  Stay tuned!