• Hops (Humulus lupulus). Robust perennial vine, may grow 30 feet in one season. Antibiotic and anti-inflammatory, hops have been used in salves and wound compresses. The plant has a sedative action and has been used in teas, as well as sleep pillows. Used in brewing beer.
• Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata). Vigorous perennial vine. Widely used to treat sleep disorders, nervousness, headache; it is favored because it is effective without narcotic after-effects. Native to South and Central America and first documented in the 1560s, this plant is available in most nurseries. Not reliably hardy in colder climates.
• Love-in-a-puff (Cardiospermum halicacabum—see February 6). A fast-growing annual or tender perennial. In Chinese medicine, a tea brewed from the leaves is used to treat skin ailments and promote wound healing. In India, the leaves are mixed with castor oil and used to treat rheumatism and joint stiffness. The leaf juice soothes earaches.
Read more about native vines, many of them herbal:
Native Trees, Shrubs, and Vines: A Guide to Using, Growing, and Propagating North American Woody Plants, by William Cullina
Ivy, ivy, I love you, in my bosom I put you. The first young man to speak to me My future husband he shall be. —TRADITIONAL LOVE CHARM
JULY 17
With all the rain we’ve been having, the Hopi dye sunflowers were taller and larger than usual, their orange-rimmed heads plump with purple-black seeds. The safflowers too, were vigorous and woody, while the unruly madder (a distant cousin of that all-important cinchona tree) was thigh-high and sprawling.
—INDIGO DYING: A CHINA BAYLES MYSTERY
Seeing Red
I didn’t know much about the dye herbs until I began doing the research for Indigo Dying, China’s full-color mystery. Then, as I usually do with these novels, I did as much hands-on research as I could find time for. I discovered that many of the plants in my herb garden are good to dye with—goldenrod, tansy, mint, mullein, marigold, and yarrow—and that a great many of the wild plants growing at Meadow Knoll yield natural dyes: coreopsis, Joe-Pye weed, dock, burdock, black-eyed Susan, milkweed, osage orange, and sumac. I also planted two dye herbs that were new to me: coltsfoot and madder.
Madder (Rubia tinctorum) really likes my garden. Really. China wasn’t kidding when she described it as “thigh-high and sprawling,” although she might have added “plain-Jane and homely,” to boot. Madder would probably like your garden, too, but do think twice before you plant it. Once it has put its roots down, it’s here to stay. If you don’t want it to colonize your entire neighborhood, be ruthless.
But this plain-Jane plant has a secret personality. It can make you see red. Literally. Dried and chopped, that tangle of woody roots yields a clear, bright, gorgeous red, which has been treasured for centuries. A fragment of madder-dyed cloth found in India is some 5,000 years old; a belt found in Tutankhamun’s tomb was put there in 1350 BCE and the whole of the ancient world was mad for madder. In the Far East, it was a major cash crop and, by the mid-1600s, it was being planted across Europe. In 1865, worldwide production had risen to about 70,000 tons a year. But in 1869, German chemists synthesized alizarin, the pigment that turns madder red, and the new chemical dye became available at half the price of madder. The madder market crashed, and madder plantations around the world were abandoned.
Madder is more difficult to use than to grow, and it may be a challenge to get that clear, bright color. But once you’ve seen madder red, you’ll want more of it. For instructions and encouragement, read the section on the plant in A Dyer’s Garden.
Read more about the colorful herbs:
A Dyer’s Garden, by Rita Buchanan
Beware of wearing red in the garden
For bees dislike that color.
—TRADITIONAL LORE FROM THE CHANNEL ISLANDS
JULY 18
On this day in 1861, the Battle of Bull Run was fought.
Now, if we only had some china-berry trees here, we shouldn’t need any other grease. They are making splendid soap at Vicksburg with china-balls. They just put the berries into the lye and it eats them right up and makes a fine soap.
—LETTER, CITED IN CIVIL WAR PLANTS & HERBS
Making Do and Doing Without
In 1861, when the Civil War began, people in the North and the South began a time of making-do and doing without. For Southerners, however, the times were exceedingly difficult, and the women—many of whom had been accustomed to fine foods, clothing, and plenty of household help—discovered resources in themselves and in the land that they had not suspected.
• Coffee (that all-important herbal stimulant) rose to fifty dollars a pound. Roasted and ground rye, wheat, corn, sweet potatoes, beans, groundnuts, chestnuts, chicory, okra, sorghum, and dandelion—all were used as substitutes. One woman reported that sliced potatoes were dried, toasted, and ground, and made into a “really delicious” beverage.
• The leaves of currant, raspberry, and blackberry bushes, and of willow, holly, sage, and garden herbs were dried and substituted for tea.
• Sorghum molasses, honey, and even a syrup of watermelon juice were substituted for sugar.
• Parthenia Hague also reported that dogwood berries were substituted for quinine, while the bark of the wild cherry, poplar, and wahoo tree were used to treat dysentery. A syrup made of mullein, globe flower (Trollius Europaeus), and wild-cherry bark was a cough remedy. Sassafras treated bronchitis and pneumonia, and boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum ) was administered to malaria patients.
• Ladies grew poppies to make laudanum and made a painkiller from jimsonweed.
• The North had problems, too. “I will not move my army without onions,” General Grant wired the War Office in 1864, perhaps in a double entendre: Onions were another prized laxative. The War Office sent him three boxcar loads.
From the Confederate Receipt Book, 1863:
Table Beer: To eight quarts of boiling water put a pound of treacle, a quarter of an ounce of ginger, and two bay leaves, let this boil for a quarter of an hour, then cool, and work it with yeast as other beer.
Acorn coffee: Take sound ripe acorns, wash them while in the shell, dry them, and parch until they open, take the shell off, roast with a little bacon fat, and you will have a splendid cup of coffee.
Read more:
Civil War Plants & Herbs, by Patricia B. Mitchell
JULY 19
I believe that if ever I had to practice cannibalism, I might manage if there were enough tarragon around.
—JAMES BEARD
Tasteful Tarragon
I’m not sure I’d go as far as the esteemed Mr. Beard, but of all the artemisias, tarragon (Artemisia dracunculus var. sativa) is without a doubt the tastiest. In fact, its distinctive taste—a complex amalgam of anise, licorice, mint, grass, and pepper, with a resinous tang—is the reason that tarragon is still around, since it is one of a very few culinary herbs that never made a medicinal name for themselves. Tarragon is congenial with vegetables, salads, fish and chicken, and especially happy in vinegar. In your northern garden, you’ll want to start with plants, for the true tarragon rarely flowers and hence does not set seeds. At the nursery, give them the pinch test, and only buy plants that have the distinctive tarragon taste. Avoid Russian tarragon (Artemisia dracunculoides ) ; it doesn’t have much taste. Tarragon sulks in Southern gardens, so if you live where the summers are very warm, try Mexican Mint Marigold (Tagetes lucida ), which has a bonus of pretty yellow flowers.
If you’re experimenting with tarragon, try this easy recipe.
GRILLED TARRAGON CHICKEN
1 tablespoon chopped fresh or ½ tablespoon dried
tarragon
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2-3 minced garlic cloves
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons lemon juice
salt and pepper
2 tablespoon olive oil
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
In a small bowl, place all ingredients except c
hicken. Whisk together. Pound chicken to about ¾-inch thickness. Arrange in a shallow pan and pour marinade over it, coating both sides. Refrigerate for 2-3 hours. Grill chicken until cooked through, turning to brown all sides. Serve immediately. Serves 4.
Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French. Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good.
—ALICE MAY BROCK
JULY 20
Where there are herbs even the smallest of gardens has a human past and is a human thing.
—HENRY BESTON
A Wheelbarrow Herb Garden
My favorite small herb garden is planted in a wheelbarrow, instantly gratifying to create and easy to maintain. I made mine from an old wheelbarrow that had outlived its usefulness and has several rusted-out spots in the bottom, perfect for drainage! I covered the bottom with old window-screening, to prevent the soil from washing out, and half-filled the barrow with a light, fast-draining potting medium.
I chose herbs that have the same requirements for water and sun (with herbs, that’s fairly easy) and set the purchased plants or transplants into the half-filled wheelbarrow, putting the taller plants at the back, the shorter ones in front, and tilting the smaller plants in front so that they drape over the rim. I layered in a slow-release fertilizer and finished filling in the soil, then watered it well and stood back to admire. One important asset of this garden: you can wheel it into the sun, into the shade, or simply park it outside the kitchen door.
PLANTS IN MY WHEELBARROW HERB GARDEN
• Onions. I’ve chosen Egyptian Walking Onions, which are perennially green in my Texas garden.
• Sage doesn’t have much of a chance to grow tall, because I keep snipping off the top-most leaves!
• Dill. “Fernleaf” is slow to bolt (set seed) and fairly short, topping out at 18 inches. It has a long taproot, so I plant it in the deepest part of the barrow.
• Lemon thyme is planted at the front, where it can spill over the edge.
• Lemon balm, a favorite tea herb, basks in the middle.
• Chives. I grow them for their edible blossoms and spicy green leaves.
• Pansies, Johnny-jump-ups, and violas provide cool weather color, and are pretty in a spring salad.
• Nasturtiums. “Dwarf Jewel” is my favorite, a summery accent in my mostly green garden. I pickle the seeds.
Basil? It grows in pots on my deck. Parsley? In the border, along with the lavenders, fennel, marjoram, lemon verbena, chervil, coriander, and garlic. The bay tree and lemongrass live in a barrel, and the mint is magically multiplying under the cypress trees along Pecan Creek. But that wheelbarrow garden is overflowing with just about everything I need to make supper special.
I never had any other Desire so strong, and so like to Covetousness, as that one which I have had always, that I might be Master at last of a small House and large Garden, with very moderate Conveniences joined to them, and there dedicate the Remainder of my Life to the Culture of them, and study of Nature.
—ABRAHAM COWLEY, 1618-1667
JULY 21
I never set eyes on a clover-field now,
Er fool round a stable, er climb in the mow,
But my childhood comes back jest as clear and
as plane
As the smell of the clover I’m sniffin’ again . . .
And so I love clover—it seems like a part
Of the sacerdest sorrows and joys of my hart;
And wharever it blossoms; oh, thare let me bow
And thank the good God as I’m thankin’ Him
now. . . .
—JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, “THE CLOVER,” 1901
“And So I Love Clover . . .”
The Indiana poet, James Whitcomb Riley, was one of my favorites when I was a child. I checked his books out of the Carnegie library in Danville, Illinois, and can remember reading “The Clover” aloud to myself, swinging with its Midwestern cadences and its familiar colloquial dialect. To this day, I think of Riley’s poem when I see clover—which is often, because we can hardly walk across the lawn or through a meadow without seeing one of the many Trifolia, all of which are much beloved by bees. Clover honey is one of the most popular honeys. And red clover (Trifolia pratense) is one of our most useful herbs.
Red clover has been used as a pot herb for eons; the young leaves and new flowers have appeared in both salads and soups; and the sprouted seeds add a crisp texture and robust flavor to salads. It has been used medicinally for centuries in many cultures. Recently, researchers from the National Cancer Institute have found that red clover contains four antitumor compounds, and it is being recommended as a complementary cancer treatment by some herbalists.
To make a medicinal tea, put a handful of clean red clover blossoms and leaves into a teapot, add two cups boiling water, cover and steep for 10 minutes. For additional flavor, add lemon balm or mint and sweeten with some of that delicious clover honey.
RED CLOVER REMEDY FOR CHAPPED LIPS
Combine 1 tablespoon dried red clover flowers, 2 teaspoons honey, and ¼ cup water. Bring to a boil and simmer 2 minutes. Remove from heat and strain. Add ½ teaspoon cornstarch. Cool, stirring occasionally. Use to moisten lips.
Read more about clover and other wild herbs:
Herbal Remedies from the Wild: Finding and Using Medicinal Herbs, by Corinne Martin
If the down flyeth off coltsfoot, dandelion and thistles when there is no winde, it is a signe of rain.
—SIXTEENTH-CENTURY ENGLISH WEATHER LORE
JULY 22
The marigold, whose courtier’s face
Echoes the sun, and doth unlace
Her at his rise, at his full stop
Packs and shuts up her gaudy shop.
—JOHN CLEVELAND, 1613-1658
The Calendula
The marigold of John Cleveland’s poem is the orange flowered Calendula officinalis, sometimes said to be named for the Virgin Mary. Here’s what Maud Grieve (an avid collector of herb tidbits) had to say about this in her Modern Herbal (1929):
The Common Marigold . . . is said to be in bloom on the calends of every month, hence its Latin name. It was not named after the Virgin, its name being a corruption of the Anglo-Saxon merso-meargealla, the Marsh Marigold. Old English authors called it Golds or Ruddes. It was, however, later associated with the Virgin Mary, and in the seventeenth century with Queen Mary.
Calendula (also called pot marigold4) was used as a stimulant and wound treatment. An infusion of dried petals was said to raise the spirits and to “bring out” measles and chickenpox. In the kitchen, the leaves and petals were added to salads and soups for flavor, and baked goods, puddings, butter, and cheeses were colored with the dried petals. Hence, Marigold Custard, in Gardening with Herbs for Flavor and Fragrance, by Helen Morgenthau Fox.
MARIGOLD CUSTARD
1 pint milk
1 cup of marigold petals4
¼ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons of sugar
small piece of vanilla bean
3 egg yolks
teaspoon nutmeg
teaspoon allspice
½ teaspoon rose water
Pound the marigold petals in a mortar, or crush them with a spoon, and scald with the milk and vanilla bean. Remove the vanilla bean, and add slightly beaten yolks of eggs, salt, and sugar mixed with the spice. Cook until the mixture coats the spoon. Add rose water and cool. This makes a good sauce for a blanc mange [white pudding]. It may be poured into a dish without cooking, and then baked like a custard. Serve with beaten cream, and garnish with marigold blossoms.
JULY 23
Today, the Sun enters the sign of Leo.
The fifth sign of the zodiac, the masculine sign Leo (the Lion) is ruled by the Sun. A cardinal sign, Leo is associated with creativity, authority, achievement, and executive ability. It is a fire sign, suggesting that Leo people are energetic, commanding, self-assertive. They may also be occas
ionally blind to the effect their energies have on others.
—RUBY WILCOX, “ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS”
Leo Herbs
Traditionally, Sun-ruled Leo is associated with the cardiac system, but also with the spine, the thymus gland, and the eyes. Herbs related to Leo are said to strengthen and tone the heart, regulate blood pressure, and raise the spirits. Some plants and herbs have been traditionally associated with Leo because of their color (orange or bright yellow) their shape (radiating, like the sunflower), or their association with victory (bay laurel). Some of the Leo herbs:
• Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis). Rosemary is one of the most beloved herbs, and is sacred to the Sun. During the Middle Ages, a twig of blossoming rosemary given to a sweetheart preserved love. Now, we know that the powerful antioxidants in the herb make it a preservative. Drunk as a tea, it is also a pleasant picker-upper. Enliven your solar spirit with a cup of hot rosemary tea each morning.
China Bayles' Book of Days Page 29