Solidago in Winter

It's a mild, overcast day in January. I have seed packets to organize into a "calendar" of action, as some will be getting started very soon. But I thought I'd catch up on vinegar (and other) infusions that got pushed to the back of the priorities shelf. What you see here is the plant matter marc of a local Solidago (goldenrod) species left from an infusion made on a sunny August day. So lovely, isn't it?

Before you ask how to make such a thing, let me say that my spouse made this batch by filling a quart canning jar with flowering tops, filling to cover with organic, living apple cider vinegar, screwing on a lid and labeling the jar. It was placed on a shelf, out of direct sunlight, where it's been given gentle, loving shakes every so often. Today it gets strained, bottled, and labeled for use. That's how it's done. So simple, right? After all herbalism is The People's Medicine: It belongs to all of us. All. 

Normally I'd strain this infusion after 6-8 weeks, but this had been macerating some 5 months, and it's a lovely yellow, with gorgeous, golden pollen that settles to the bottom of the jar, and while I've made this before, I don't remember it being quite so bitter as this batch. Whoa. The sip I took woke up parts of me that have been resting since... well... summer!

One of the things I love about this infused vinegar is enJOYing it in deep winter as the daylight is lengthening in the cuore of cold winter; that time of year that here in southern New England we know spring is on the way, even as winter's roots are still sunk deep. To me, this mirrors the Medicine that was harvested in summer, as daylight was waning in the heart of hot summer. Know what I mean? No wonder it warms and wakes my late-January cockles, right?

I'll likely add this to water to drink as a delicious bitter beverage through these winter days leading toward spring. I may combine it with the Rumex crispus radix (yellow/curly dock root) infused vinegar, which I blend with other botanicals into a personal mineral 'n' vitamin supplement. But it's a fine addition to many a food preparation, salads, vegetables, meats, and - oh my yes - soups.

Whatever I do with it, I will honor and offer gracious gratitude for the generous Food and Medicine of Nature.

[a version of this post was shared 1/22/19 at When Weeds Whisper]

Peace. 🕊

A Dark Winter Botanical Brew

 

Welcome to an herbal ramble...

I sip botanical beverages every day. I start most every day with the ubiquitous cup of Coffea arabica - coffee, my morning Medicine (some might say poison) of choice. Given the horrific history of this beloved botanical (among others), a history that's still alive today, I choose organic, fair trade coffee beans, grown in traditional ways, and I'm grateful for and honor the privilege to be able to make that choice, and invite you to do the same if/when you are able. But that's a ramble for another time, and that's not what's in this cup you see.

During the winter months I brew chaga (Inonotus obliquus) about once a month. Once a month? Yep, that's right. I take a couple/few chaga bits, which my spouse sawed into chunks from a chaga conk gifted by a friend from the land she stewards, and simmer them for several days, adding water every time I pour a cup. This can go on for a week, or more, depending on how much and how often I sip. Chaga is generous like that, and one-take adaptations of chaga brews feel disrespectful as well as selfishly wasteful. Anyway, as the days progress I add other botanicals suitable for decoction (that simmering process), and they vary, depending on what calls to me. This cup is chaga and codonopsis root (Codonopsis pilosula) which I added to the brew on the second day. Tomorrow I'll like add some of our homegrown, roasted chicory root (Cichorium intybus), and as the brew weakens I'll leverage the last of the fluids to make an infusion - a steeped beverage - with whatever leafy botanicals call to me in that moment. The spent plant matter is added to the compost where it continues adding value. Our rooted kin are so, so generous.

All these botanicals offer benefits in broad and specific ways, which is why I encourage folx to research and study and experience what is conventionally called herbalism - The People's Medicine. If you've studied with me, you know I recommend getting to know no more than three botanicals at a time. And by "getting to know" I mean not only intellectual research (heavy on actual herbalist sources), but experience as well; leveraging the botanical as food and/or Medicine, growing it, observing or getting to know its growing behaviors and preferences, and so on. So if you're called to start or renew your studies, this ramble offers three botanicals. ::nods:: That said, from a birds view... 

I enjoy brewed chaga for its appearance, neutral flavor, as well as its many medicinal offerings. It calls to me in winter because decocting herbals indoors is a winter practice for me, as it adds welcomed heat and moisture to our living environment. Plus, it's the cool seasons when sipping hot beverages throughout the day calls to me. I could drink chaga every day, I like it that much, yet once a month is plenty for reasons of respect for the botanical, respect for diversity, as well as medicinal considerations. I have arthritis, so I'm conscious of certain foods 'n' Medicines that might exacerbate the undesirable symptoms of that "condition," and chaga offers, along with other constituents, oxalates - some research indicates high content - which can, among other things, exacerbate arthritic symptoms. I've not experienced this with chaga, but it's part of my conscious awareness to respect the botanical and my body, and to do my best to make harmonious choices. Know what I mean? Plus I have a wall of herbs, and I want to honor most of them in my warming beverages.

As for codonopsis, it's a root I started leveraging less than ten years ago when I engaged it in a tonic formula inspired by the late Stephen Buhner, focused on respiratory and immune support, though it holds other values as well. I find myself often adding it to my cool-weather decoctions.

And chicory... common chicory root, harvested and gently roasted until dried, is a decocted beverage that I've long loved, like so many of our rooted kin that are classified as bitter herbs. A chicory root brew is often described as a coffee substitute, which inspires shivers in me since, aside from some of the bitter flavor it offers, like coffee, it tastes nothing like it, and offers no caffeine. I'll admit, though, that something about this brew must satisfy some receptor site that identifies with coffee and satisfies cravings. For me, anyway. 

And yeah, I do love coffee... the aroma of fresh ground beans, the scent of it brewing, the color and flavor, and yeah, the morning caffeine jolt all appeal to me in a deep way, and have since I was a kid who was only allowed to smell it brewing, and later when my Nono would make me a demitasse of warm milk with a splash of coffee, the love affair really took root. Yet, my physical constitution doesn't always appreciate added stimulation, so sipping a dark brew that offers some delicious bitters sans the caffeine is a welcomed warm beverage during the months warm beverages are enJOYed all day long. And that's why I'm sharing this tale of one dark winter botanical brew with you. 

I hope you will explore, learn, and perhaps brew one or all of the three botanicals I share here. And please, if you do, do your best to acquire them respectfully, sustainably, and with reciprocity, be it from land you tend, a local herbalist, or other source. ::nods::

Peace. 🕊