I once absent-mindedly ordered Three Mile Island dressing in a restaurant and, with great presence of mind, they brought Thousand Island Dressing and a bottle of chili sauce.
—TERRY PRATCHETT, BRITISH SATIRIST
OCTOBER 12
But those which perfume the Aire most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being Trodden upon and Crushed, are Three: That is, Burnet, Wilde-Time, and Water-Mints. Therefore you are to set whole Allies of them, to have the Pleasure, when you walke or tread.
—FRANCIS BACON
Salad Burnet
If you haven’t yet set out Bacon’s fragrant Allies—burnet, thyme, and mint—now is the time. Mint and thyme are most easily started from cuttings and transplants, but you can sow the seeds of salad burnet (Sanguisorba minor) seeds now, in full sun and well-drained soil, for harvesting in early spring. If you already have burnet in your garden, you’re probably using it regularly, now that the weather is cooler. The pretty, cucumber-flavored young leaves, lacy and delicate-looking, are the most delicious now and in early spring, perfect for salads, as its name suggests. Burnet also lends an interesting flavor to vinegars, sauces, salad dressings, and creamy soups. Added to a pitcher of iced punch, the leaves are decorative and cooling.
Like its larger medicinal cousin (Sanguisorba officinalis ), salad burnet has been used for more than two thousand years, primarily as an astringent. Sanguisorba means “blood-absorbing,” so called for the plant’s ability to contract small blood vessels. Roman soldiers drank burnet tea before battle, hoping it might reduce bleeding if they were wounded; soldiers in the American Revolution drank New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus) for a similar purpose. Burnet was also used (with some two dozen other herbs) in wine and vinegar as an deterrent to plague infections.
BURNET VINEGAR
1 cup burnet leaves, packed
2 cups white wine vinegar
Pack leaves into a clean jar and cover with vinegar. Put on a tight lid and set on a sunny shelf, turning frequently. Taste in two weeks. Continue steeping (if it’s not quite intense enough) or strain and rebottle. Not necessarily helpful in preventing plague, but super on salads.
A DILLY OF A BURNET BUTTER
½ pound unsalted butter
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ cup chopped burnet leaves
3 tablespoons minced fresh dill
Blend all ingredients thoroughly. Use on steamed vegetables, fish, or sandwiches.
To make water for washing hands at table: Boil sage, then strain the water and cool it until it is a little more than lukewarm. Or use chamomile, marjoram, or rosemary boiled with orange peel. Bay leaves are also good.
—LE MENAGIER DE PARIS, C. 1393
OCTOBER 13
Things chick’ny and mutt’ny
Taste better with chutney,
Which leads to the mystery eternal:
Why didn’t Major Grey make Colonel?
—UNKNOWN
Major Grey’s Chutney
The word chutney derives from the Indian chatni, a fresh, fine-ground paste of coconut, spices, chiles, and herbs (often ginger, garlic, coriander, and mint), served as an accompaniment to rice and curries. Chutney first appeared in English around 1800, after British colonial officers returning from India began bringing home their newly acquired tastes for spicy curries and flavored rice. The most famous of the commercial British chutneys is called Major Grey. The major himself seems to have been a fiction (there is no copyright or trademark on the name), but his mango-based chutney has had a strong appeal for the past two centuries. Unlike the uncooked Indian chatni, chutney is usually made of mangos, apples, or pears, simmered in vinegar with onions, raisins, brown sugar, spices, and chiles.
This is my adaptation of the chutney that Bill enjoys. Shortly after I made it for him, he proposed. Of course, the two events may not have been related, but there it is.
MAJOR GREY’S MANGO CHUTNEY: SUSAN’S VERSION
6 cups mangos, peeled, chopped
1 onion, chopped
1 cup raisins
½ cup peeled, diced fresh ginger
1 lemon, sliced thin and seeded
2 large cloves garlic, minced
1-2 teaspoons chile powder
1¼ cups granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 cups cider vinegar
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cinnamon stick, about 2 inches
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon whole peppercorns
Combine all ingredients in a heavy pot. Bring to boil. Lower heat to simmer and cook about 2 hours or until thick, stirring often to keep from sticking. Seal in sterilized jars. Refrigerate after opening. Makes about 3 pints.
More Reading:
Hints and Pinches: A Concise Compendium of Aromatics, Chutneys, Herbs, Relishes, Spices, and Other Such Concerns, by Eugene Walter
OCTOBER 14
Today is National Dessert Day.
Cake is one of the luxuries of the table, and, like all luxuries, must be sparingly indulged in order to be enjoyed, its value depending chiefly on its rarity.
—SARAH JOSEPHA HALE, THE GOOD HOUSEKEEPER, 1841
Let Them Eat Pears
The evenings are shorter and crisper, fall is in the air, fresh pears are in the market, and there’s still some cinnamon basil in the garden. On Dessert Day, what could be more elegant and easier than this fruit-and-herb delight?
OVEN-POACHED PEARS WITH CINNAMON BASIL CRÈME FRAÎCHE
6 ripe pears
¾ cup light brown sugar, mixed with 1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons butter
½ cup dark rum
garnish: slivered almonds, sprigs of basil or basil blossoms
Peel pears, quarter, and core. Arrange in a baking dish. Sprinkle brown sugar/cinnamon mixture on top and dot with butter. Pour rum over pears, and cover with foil. Bake at 350° for 15 minutes. Remove foil, baste, and bake until pears are cooked and tender, about 10-15 more minutes. Divide among six dessert bowls and serve with cinnamon basil crème fraîche, garnished with slivered almonds and sprigs of basil or basil blossoms.
CINNAMON BASIL CRÈME FRAÎCHE
Mix together in a small bowl:
1 cup crème fraîche
½ cup minced fresh cinnamon basil leaves (sweet basil can
be substituted)
Pinch of nutmeg
TO MAKE CRÈME FRAÎCHE
Crème fraîche can be purchased, or you can make it yourself. Heat 1 cup heavy whipping cream to 105°. Stir in 1 tablespoon buttermilk. Cover and set in a warm place for 8-36 hours, stirring and tasting every 8 hours or so. The crème is ready when it is thick, with a slightly sour, nutty taste. It can be kept in the refrigerator for about 10 days. Use to top berries, fruit, puddings.
For more herbal dessert treats:
Not Just Desserts: Sweet Herbal Recipes, by Susan Belsinger, available from www.susanbelsinger.com.
Just think of all those women on the Titanic who said, “No, thank you,” to dessert that night. And for what!
—ERMA BOMBECK
OCTOBER 15
Rosalind: How full of briers is this working day
world!
Celia: They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee
in holiday foolery. If we walk not in the trodden
paths, our very petticoats will catch them.
—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, AS YOU LIKE IT, I.3.13
A Great Bear of a Burr
Walk along an untrodden path this weekend, and when you get home, you may find your sweater studded with burrs. You’ve had a brush with burdock: Arctium lappa. Burdock is aptly named, for the Greek word arctos means “bear,” while lappa derives from the Celtic word for “to seize.” In 1948, George de Mestral, looking at the tenacious burrs under a microscope, noticed the tiny hooks that the plant has developed to hitch a ride on passersby. The result of de Mestral’s observations? Velcro, a fastener with stiff hooks o
n one tape and soft loops on a matching tape.
The burdock has inspired a great many other uses, as well. Over the centuries, herbalists from many cultures have recommended it as a blood purifier, helpful in the treatment of gout and gallbladder and liver ailments. An infusion of the leaves eases indigestion, and a poultice heals burns and bruises. The root is used to treat skin disorders such as eczema and psoriasis. It has both anti-inflammatory and antibiotic properties. And if you ever run short of vegetables—or if you just want to try something different—burdock is a good choice. The young stalk, leaves, and flowers, steamed, taste like artichoke. In Russia, the leaves are used to wrap fish for steaming. In Japan, the taproot (called gobo) is a common vegetable, served raw or in soups and stir-fries.
And that Shakespeare bit about “holiday foolery”? The bard may be referring to an ancient custom in the Scottish town of South Queensbury in which a flannel-clad man is completely covered with burrs from head to toe. It’s thought that the “burryman” may represent the spirit of the harvest, or that the ritual was a kind of catharsis, the burrs symbolizing evil.
More Reading:
Healing Wise, by Susun S. Weed
Burdock is like a cleaning woman or a garbage collector: essential to modern life, but underpaid and undervalued. She’s the old black raga-muffin of herbs.
—ELLEN GREENLAW, QUOTED IN HEALING WISE
He that hath a good harvest may be content with some thistles.
—TRADITIONAL LORE
OCTOBER 16
For those at death’s doore and almost past breathing saffron bringeth breath again.
—JOHN GERARD, HERBAL, 1597
Sprightly Saffron
If you’re growing saffron (Crocus sativus) in your garden, this perky purple crocus is probably blooming just now. If you’re not, now is the right time to purchase and plant the corms, which are about the size of a garlic clove. Planted now, your crocus will put up leaves in the spring and will flower the following autumn. They need a half-day’s sun and well-drained soil, since the corms have a tendency to rot.
Saffron consists of the dried stigmata of Crocus sativus, which have to be picked by hand—laboriously, as you’ll discover if you’ve done it. Since these filaments are threadlike and only an inch long, it takes a lot of stooping to collect even a teaspoon. One ounce of saffron is said to require 4,000 crocus blooms. No wonder it’s the most expensive spice in the world!
Originally from ancient Persia, saffron has been used as a flavoring, a coloring agent, and a medicine. It has an earthy, bitter-honey taste, and is used in Mediterranean and Asian cuisines. It goes well with fish and seafood. In England, it’s best known for its use in saffron buns. An Essex town—Saffron Walden, where it was grown—is named for it. As a dye, it produces a distinctive yellow-orange color; Buddhist priests’ robes are dyed from it. Medicinally, it has been used topically to treat skin ailments; internally, it is said to improve blood circulation, reduce fever and inflammation, calm anxiety, and relieve depression. Francis Bacon wrote that saffron “maketh the English sprightly.”
To dry your garden saffron, lay the filaments on paper and put in the oven (pilot light only). When dry, fold the paper and rub to a powder. To use, steep in hot, acidic, or alcoholic liquid (depending on the recipe) for about 20 minutes, to extract all the aroma, flavor and color. Add to your favorite paella recipe, to sautéed scallops, or to biscuits.
Explore the exotic mysteries and adventures of saffron:
Secrets of Saffron: The Vagabond Life of the World’s Most Seductive Spice, by Pat Willard
It is reported at Saffronwalden that a Pilgrim purposing to do good to his Countrey, stole an head of Saffron, and hid the same in his Palmers staffe, which he had made hollow before of purpose, and so he brought this Root into this Realme, with Venture of his life: for if he had bene taken, by the Law of the Countrey from whence it came, he had died for the fact.
—RICHARD HAKLUYT, PRINCIPAL NAVIGATIONS, VOYAGES,
TRAFFIQUES AND DISCOVERIES OF THE ENGLISH NATION, 1582
In the floral calendar, today’s flower: yarrow.
OCTOBER 17
Going Places: Willow Pond Farm, Fairfield, Pennsylvania
Willow Pond Farm will linger long in your memory. You’ll recall with pleasure the many bright gardens and the fragrant lavender fields, home of the Pennsylvania Lavender Festival, a joyous June affair held each Father’s Day weekend. But once you’ve tasted Madeline’s splendid herbal jellies, you’ll never, ever forget them.
Tom and Madeline Wajda (pronounced Vy-da) have owned Willow Pond since 1994. Tom grew up on an Ohio farm and is happy to return to his roots after spending 30 years in the U.S. foreign diplomatic corps. While the Wajdas lived in Paris, Madeline studied classical French cookery, receiving her coveted Certificate of Excellence in French cuisine. You can sample her culinary talents at the “boardinghouse lunches” held on the farm’s patio or in the eighteenth-century stone farmhouse and followed by a workshop on herbs. Then visit the old summer kitchen (now the farm’s gift shop) and step back to a time when jam and jelly was cooked in an iron kettle over an open fire.
Madeline’s sweet and savory jellies are a farm specialty, and worth all the praise they get. “The most satisfying thing about making herbal jellies is watching people discover a new way to use herbs,” Madeline says. “Nearly everyone’s tried hot pepper jelly, but it’s a giant leap to garlic or horseradish jelly, used as condiments! Jellies bring out people’s creativity. Some use them with chicken and beef, but one inventive cook brushes garlic jelly over skewered shrimp on the grill, while another adds basil tomato jelly to a goat cheese-focaccia sandwich.”
Madeline reports that the best-selling jellies change with the seasons: lavender in spring and summer, spicy rosemary and sage cranberry in fall. She loves to experiment with unusual combinations, like her new lavender-kissed fruit jams: blueberry, strawberry, and peach, each with an irresistible lavender fragrance and flavor. “When the season allows,” she adds, “I make other flower jellies: rose petal, violet, apple blossom, and lilac. They are truly unique gifts.”
You’ll want to visit the farm in person, but you can also visit on-line, where you can purchase Madeline’s delightful jellies, honeys, vinegars, and teas. Willow Pond Herb Farm, just 20 minutes west of Gettysburg, is open April through December. You’ll find hours and directions at the web site: www.willowpondherbs.com. While you’re there, check out the helpful articles and recipes in the Potting Shed and Madeline’s Kitchen. (You’ll find Madeline’s recipe for Rosemary Walnuts in this book, on December 24.)
Oh, and don’t forget the Lavender Festival. China and I have definitely put it on our calendar!
OCTOBER 18
The English herbalist and astrologer, Nicholas Culpeper, was born on this day in 1616. He died in 1654, at the age of 38.
It is a base dishonourable unworthy part of the College of Physicians of London to train up the people in such ignorance that they should not be able to know what the Herbs in their Gardens be good for.
—NICHOLAS CULPEPER, A PHYSICAL DIRECTORY, 1650
The People’s Herbalist
Nicholas Culpeper may be responsible for giving medical herbalism its reputation for quackery. Vilified for his opposition to the powerful Royal College of Physicians, he is seen today as a proponent of herbal superstition. But if it had not been for Culpeper, the physicians and surgeons of his time might have succeeded in replacing herbal self-healing with their own “expert” forms of health care. We owe a great debt to this herbalist, who preserved the traditional uses of plant medicines in a clear and readable way.
Culpeper lived in a time when it was politically dangerous for anyone but licensed physicians to dispense medical knowledge. Trained as an apothecary and motivated by a desire to make medicines available to common people, Culpeper translated into English the Latin London Pharmacopoeia, a closely held handbook of medical preparations. He published his work as The London Dispensatory (1651),
naming and ridiculing the exotic “pharmaceuticals” that the Royal College prescribed: thirteen kinds of dung, the brains of sparrows, the hearts of stags, the horns of unicorns, powdered earthworms, fox lungs, horse testicles. Of one preparation, he says, “’Tis a mess altogether.” It’s no wonder that the enraged College put Culpeper on trial for witchcraft!
Culpeper followed the Dispensatory with the first English textbook on midwifery and childcare, emphasizing nutrition and cleanliness and recommending herbal remedies for common problems of pregnancy and childbirth. After that came his most famous work: The English Physician. The book listed the medicinal uses of plants found in the garden, hedgerow, and field, and indexed these to common illnesses, using astrological terms that his readers already understood. He recommended “simples,” rather than elaborate compounds, and wrote his recipes in a readable, humorous style. He sold his book for a mere three pence, so that even the poorest could buy a copy—and they did. The English Physician has appeared in more than 100 editions in the 350 years since its first publication.
China Bayles' Book of Days Page 41