Leaning on Spring's Sill to Summer

This morning marked our first pea harvest. I sat on the deck, in the shade of the red umbrella, shucking these darlings, then blanched them. This beloved ritual yielded two pints for the freezer, plus some extra for nibbling. They’re so good.

This morning also marked the garlic scape harvest. The lesser-ripe, tender scapes went into making Maneuljjong Muchim (Spicy Garlic Scapes), an new annual ritual that started about two years ago when I discovered the recipe. It’s sitting in the fridge to macerate ‘til supper time. This seasonal dish is so freakin’ good, and it’s only here during the garlic scape season. I’ll be savoring it like a delicious madness to hold in my brain and heart ‘til - gods willing - next year this time. And those lesser-ripe scapes will be blended into a simple pesto to preserve them in the fridge for future kitchen witchery. Our annual garlic scape pesto rarely lasts long because we use it in all the things.

Yesterday, I finally got some pinto and red beans canned. This has been on my list since the chilly days of early spring. Eight pints of pinto beans canned with onion, garlic, bay leaf, fresh oregano, and fresh epazote (though one jar is in the fridge, ‘cause it failed to seal)… and nine pints of red beans with bay leaf. This morning I washed the jars, scribbled the labels, and will label them all before setting them on the basement pantry shelves.

These efforts feel good because I’ve been struggling with merging will, motivation, and physical ‘n’ mental energy to get things done. Yet here I am, leaning on spring’s sill, sipping iced tea, gazing into summer that arrives tomorrow evening. I offer big gratitude to the waning vernal season, as it, along with beloved Gaia, supported me gently in getting most every vernal seed and seedling into the earth. And when summer arrives with the solstice, I know I’ll be entering the "official" hurry-up-and-wait-season of daily, yet gentle harvesting, preserving and assorted kitchen witchery. Summer's fire ensures that my will, motivation, and energy meld in that gentle way that early summer dictates; harvests happen on Gaia’s schedule, not mine, so I offer thanks for these recent vernal preparations as I look forward to the season of hurry-up-and-wait.

Peace. 

the infinite generosity of Gaia

Yesterday was about addressing the last of our Tromboncino winter squash. This is one of those activities that inspires my mind and heart to wander, wonder, explore. I am fascinated by how such a ordinary activity can inspire so much heartfelt consideration. Yet, as a devotee to Gaia, I often pause to reflect on my activities – large and small, ordinary and extraordinary – and how they nourish and nurture my relationship with Gaia.

2024 was the first year I grew this particular squash, and I will grow it again. Throughout the summer I harvested a gardener’s ton, small, at around 12 inches long, to use fresh, as a summer squash, in all manner of cooking. Any overabundance was sliced and dehydrated. There was one squash, hiding, as all squash tend to do, that grew larger, and this delighted me because it chose to be the one to grow to maturity to be a winter squash. I love this about this particular squash, that it's wonderful as a summer squash, when small, and equally wonderful when mature as a winter squash. The squash pictured here has been feeding us for the last past couple of months. I would just cut off what we needed in the kitchen, and leave the squash in its place in cool storage in the basement. So simple. So generous. And like so many squashes, winter and summer, so versatile and useful in so many dishes.

So yesterday I cleaned, peeled and cubed the last of this Tromboncino, and filled two quart jars. I used a pint or so in a chickpea Thai curry soup that we enjoyed for supper. The rest will be used for this ‘n’ that over the coming days. And if I feel like I'm not gonna get to it, I'll dehydrate the cubes for later use. Or maybe feed them to the chickens. But if the stars align with my motivation and physical energy, I’ll likely roast and puree it to make some biscotti.

We shall see. In the meantime…

In this moment I feel the infinite generosity of Gaia. I could go on, and likely will in my blue ink journal (my writing journal) to give this particular gratitude more attention. But in this moment, this one right here, I’ll sit a spell in the gloaming of the morning to bask in the infinite generosity of Gaia.

Thanks for indulging me.

🕊️

Putting Off Today

As you may already know, every morning I draw a tarot card for guidance. This morning I drew the V Swords. My brain first went to - what I consider to be - the conventional interpretations which perplexed me, and nothing was landing. Know what I mean? When I'm perplexed like this, I relax my brain, engage intuition to invite personal, and unconventional messages from the pure imagery.

I landed, in summary here: Chill, stay focused... and aware of the internal 'n' external discord. It's OK to give it a rest, and return to it tomorrow.

That resonated. So I put off some (exhausting) adulting planned for this morning, and will revisit it tomorrow. I also pressed the pause button on some of the The Work in which I’ve been swirling. In its stead, I harvested the ripe-n-ready garlic, even though it was damp from last evening's delicious downpour. It's drying in the greenhouse, and will make its way in a day 'r two to the curing tables in the garage. I took a shower (outdoors, ahhhh) and am chillin' in front of the fan as I type.

…today’s garlic harvest, and yesterday’s french grey shallot harvest…

I'm gonna make some Thai dipping sauce to can - outdoors - using some of the previously harvested garlic. I failed to make any last year, and I need this on my pantry shelves. And I’m thinking I need to plan making the Monarda fistulosa (bee balm) jelly now that blooms are delighting. 

The rest today, though, will be wondering and wandering toward the calming shorelines of my mind (‘n’ intuition)... where secrets yet unknown to me may be whispered.

🕊

Hominy Harmony

 

Frolic is my current Moonshine focus, and given this world we share, it’s a mighty challenge. Yet, there it is. So tenacious me accepts it.

Yesterday I experienced an alignment of motivation, will, physical energy and opportunity, so I leveraged that uncanny blessing by frolicking with some hominy I’ve been meaning to can since the cold months; amazing, small batch, hardwood ash washed hominy from Dave Smoke-McCluskey. In the present tense, this is a practical activity of kitchen witchery, yet one that will, in a future tense, yield opportunity for frolic. How, you ask? Well, at some point in the future I’ll be able to pop open a can of ready-to-eat, heat-n-serve hominy, to add to soups, stews, salads, casseroles, pazole, and more - for us, and for others. But my point is, cooking hominy is a long, slow, simmer process, like cooking dried beans. So the magick - canned magick - is held in the freed-up time ‘n’ space in that future tense. Make sense?

I frolic in the present with my kitchen witchery. I’ll frolic in the future with the promise of freed-up time. And in these actions I acknowledge the ancestors with an honor of frolic in the food I create in the kitchen; food I know and understand, food that is unadulterated by a system that prefers to poison life for profit. And yes, I see and acknowledge the privilege in my capacity to frolic in this way, and I offer the gesture in prayer to Nona Gaia and all her kin… that we may all live and act in honorable, sustainable, healthful, and loving ways that may nourish all life - past present, future, and then some. And it's in this prayer that so much of the challenge resides; the challenge to frolic.

Challenge, or folic, or both, and more... we have twelve pints of Dave Smoke-McCluskey’s Becky Blanca Hominy, and four pints of Fat Red Hominy ready to go. Canned blessings, y'all. *nods*

Today it looks like the alignment is holding, so I’ll do the same with some cannellini beans that I likewise intended to can months ago. So today shall be filled with more honor ‘n’ frolic to all the times and beings that support us all - past, present, future, and then some.

🕊Justice.

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. 🕊

Bomba

This morning’s harvest expresses the first step in making a batch of Bomba, a traditional Calabrese preserved condiment.

There’s probably as many ways to make this, as there are Calabrians who make it, yet the process is pretty constant, and is used for preserving a number of garden harvests.

These beautiful fruits are washed, so we move onto the next steps of chopping and /or slicing, salting them, placing them to mingle in a colander over a bowl, and weigh them all down so they may shed their excess water, I will revisit them tomorrow.

Here’s a link to a favored source that offers written, imaged, and video guidance, which is so fab for the beginner.

🕊

rose

Lunga di Napoli Score

Today I processed one Lunga di Napoli squash because it had some nibbles that might have compromise long-term storage. It’s the largest of five, and it weighed in at 25 pounds 'n' 13 ounces.

So... there's 16 pints in the canner, 8 trays in the dehydrator, two quarts puréed, and another two quarts raw, for the oven tonight.

Not too shabby for one squash!

Peace. 🕊

Patience

We're perched on the rim of autumn's arrival in my part of the world, and my work table awaits me with projects, mending and repairs, art journaling, and some adulting to be addressed before November's arrival.  And even though November's arrival still feels a long way off, methinks we all know... tempus fugit. 

And it's because of that winged time that my focus points only to the gardens right now, on the harvests, and the preservations in progress. Today there's Lunga di Napoli, a winter squash, that needs harvesting so the curing may begin... there's harvested crabapples that need attention... autumn crops that need some love, and the daily garden harvests 'n' maintenance that go with growing 'n' preserving a lion's share of our food. 

It's work, no doubt, yet it is profound enJOYment and magical Medicine that nourishes 'n' sustains us in oh so many ways. Plus, I dig "shopping" in our pantries, in a far out way. 

So today, as my work table holds its pattern in this seasonal suspended animation, I'll be harvesting green beans for dinner as well as for the dehydrator... making crabapple juice... prepping tomatoes to dry, and bag for the freezer (for future purée), harvesting those winter squash, some amaranth, broom corn, various greens, summer squash, and more... and managing the seasonal lists for the days ahead. 

So for my creative friends participating in this week's What's on Your Workdesk? Wednesday, that's my deal... a work table in the waiting. And I do look forward to the days of opening a jar of homemade garden soup for a quick meal so I can catch up on those projects patiently waiting.

Peace. 🕊 

 

Garden Canning Season

The garden canning season has officially begun on our little acre, with 8 quarts minestrone soup, and 4 quarts of beans in highly seasoned water. This is roughly 24 meals. And I say that’s not too shabby.

Next up will be stuffed pepper soup, and stuffed cabbage soup. And other stuff. But not today. Today we wait patiently for these jars to process. Tomorrow we’ll wash them, label them, and put them on the shelves.

I’m already looking forward to our fast slow food this winter.

I’m feeling very grateful.

🕊

Tomato Bounty

 

Rain is in tomorrow’s forecast, so today is about getting out into the gardens to make sure harvests get harvested.

First, I have to get the harvested, fully ripened tomatoes into the dehydrator. Then, and only then will I have room for what’s to come.

I’m so grateful for this bounty. Bounty to share, bounty to enJOY in the moment, and bounty to nourish ‘n’ sustain us through the months ahead.

Peace. 🕊

Garden Gratitudes

 

Today I'm grateful for the beauty of the echinacea blooms that greet me as I enter the vegetable garden via the "main" gate. I'm grateful, too, for our makeshift outdoor kitchen - in essence, an up-cycled sink with hot 'n' cold running water, and an electric burner.

I've got ten trays of blanched collard greens sitting in the sun. It's not been long, and they're already mostly dried. I'll finish them in the dehydrator, and hopefully get a second batch done after lunch.

But before lunch I'll be harvesting some green coriander seeds to fridge, freeze 'n' ferment, all part of another bit of today's gratitude directed to the generous spirit of Alan the ForagerChef for this collection of coriander inspiration.

Later, I'll be harvesting the last of the shallots and making room for them on the curing tables in the garage... and transplanting the cruciferous babes into larger pots so they may grow strong before planting them in the earth in a week 'r two.

There's more, but you're done reading for now, right?

Peace. 🕊

Every Day There is Something

Every day there is something in life to harvest. 
Every day there is something in life to plant. 
Every day there is something in life to receive. 
Every day there is something in life to give.

~ A lesson from the plant realm.

Peace. 🕊

A version of this entry was originally posted June 10, 2019 at When Weeds Whisper.

Allaria petiolata - Garlic Mustard

Today I return to Allaria petiolata... garlic mustard, remember? I've been harvesting more roots to macerate in vinegar. To me, this is a wonderful way to attempt to tame this wild (and generous) invasive. The infused vinegar often ends up in some version of fire cider I make in autumn, among other formulations, and on its own.

I make a simple pesto with the greens (just ground via mortar 'n' pestle with a touch of sea salt) and freeze it in tablespoon-sized dollops for the freezer. These are a tasty addition to many a dish.

Already I see the bud stems forming on the second year plants, a few are flowering, and it won't be long before they explode into full bloom. At that point I often wander and pull up as many as I can (the stem seems to make them easier to grab and unroot) and pile them in the sun to dry well before composting. The plants that miss this culling will have their flowers leveraged (they make a lovely 'n' tasty garnish), and later, still, their seeds (to use like mustard seeds - which, in essence - they are.

With that, I challenge you to venture out in search of Allaria to leverage as the food that she is!

A version of this entry was originally posted May 9, 2015 at When Weeds Whisper.

Peace. 🕊

A Wee Spring Harvest

Earlier today, I harvested some lovage. The leaves are in the dehydrator. The stems have been blanched, and are now macerating in an organic cane sugar syrup. 

Once dried, the leaves will be jarred up to keep on hand as a dry alternative to the fresh stuff. The stems have a couple more days of processing to soak up that sugar syrup, and then they’ll be put on a tray to dry for a sweet treat of lovage stem candy.

Then I wandered the little acre to do some more harvesting...

The dandelion heads are sitting on a tray in the shade to dry ‘n’ wilt a bit, as well as to let any ants and other potential vermin crawl off and be on their way. These little flower clusters will be jarred up, covered with extra-virgin olive oil (because that’s all I have at the moment), to be processed for making an infused oil for my aches’n’pains 'n' such.

A handful of mint has been gently rinsed, and is resting on an absorbent towel to dry a bit. This will be made into a mint sauce to keep in the fridge. I’m actually scolding myself in this moment because I didn’t think to do this the other day, when we had lamb for dinner. Ah, well. 

And last but not least, beautiful Equisetum arvense, commonly called horse tail around here, is in the dehydrator with the lovage leaves, so that we can have dried horse tail to add to our nutritional teas throughout the year. I’ll likely harvest a little more tomorrow to dry, but I don’t need/use that much. This botanical - like so much of Nature - reminds me to take only what I need.

Peace. 🕊

Dandelion Citrus Jelly

 

I was gonna make dandelion marmalade, but opted for a fresh challenge of making a jelly minus any commercial pectin. The process I used followed - more or less - the process for making this Cramaillotte (there's many recipes out there, so look around for the one that resonates with you).

It all started with Mr. Spouse 'n' me harvesting a small bucket of dandelion blooms. Many hands - even just four - make light work!

I sat on the deck, under the umbrella, in meditation, separating the "petals" (florets) from the sepals, doing my best to get as little green as possible.

This, in case you're wondering, is the same beginning step for making dandelion mead or wine. 

We ended up with about a quart of gently packed dandelion "petals."

I chopped up a very ripe organic grapefruit and a half a lemon to add to the pot, because that's what I had, and then added water to cover, which was about a quart.

It all simmered together, covered, for about an hour.

I strained and squeezed as much juice as possible from the simmered brew, ending up with about 3 cups of liquid. So I returned the strained juice to the pan with 3 cups of sugar (equal parts by volume), and ended up simmering it another 50 minutes 'til it reached a thick thread stage.

Then it all got ladled into sterilized, hot jelly jars, and capped with hot lids. I used the ::gasp:: method of flipping the hot jars until they cooled and sealed, a process frowned upon my our USDA (which advocates the often wasteful hot water bath, even for steamy, wee batches like this. Us Americans must face and address our seemingly infinite addictions to waste).

So we ended up 3+ cups of jelly, to make these four jars, plus another not quite full for the fridge.

And I must mention that this pectin-free process can be used for other botanicals as well. Be creative!

It's quite lovely, a bit of spring sunshine in a jar and I owe my success to the spirit of Margaret Jean, my mother-in-law, who I invited to join me in the kitchen, because she was the jelly-maker of jelly-makers. ::nods::

Peace. 🕊

A version of this entry was originally posted May 19, 2020 at When Weeds Whisper.

October Peace

October enters my world with a signature chill 'n' damp... a day to stay indoors, out of the gardens, to tend to that which has been harvested. I'll honor the first day of this month by tying the corn to hang, a practice that adds seasonal decoration to our little home, as well as grain to grind when we crave polenta, cornbread, and the like. I'll check on the winter squashes that are curing in the greenhouse, to see if any are ready to join their family in the cellar. There are jars of dried food and Medicine to label and place on their respective shelves. I'll warm the house by making Scarpaccia and more zucchini-oatmeal cookies. 

In the breaking light of this October morning I view the gardens, still full of harvests to be made in the coming days as I keep watch on the forecasts for that first day of urgent gathering. I see beds to be tidied, garlic and shallots to be planted... seeds to drop... and the eventual rest that comes with this month.

I see the quiet, introspective, shadow work that October offers... the reflective 'n' projective work that prepares me for the new year at Samhain, and for the darkest days of the seasonal spiral that delivers us to winter, and for the eventual rest that I, and Nona Gaia, have earned. Together.

🕊

Autumn 'n' Cabbage

And just like that ::snap:: it’s Autumn! 🍃🍂

We’re celebrating this first full day of the fall season with about 40 pounds of cabbage. 🥬

First, we started with the sauerkraut. I prepped the kraut on the mandoline, and my spouse massaged the salt into it… we both checked for flavor, and I added a little bit of sweet onion, and caraway seed as we layered it in our 5 gallon crock. It’s all tucked under its own brine to ferment in our cool room.

We used 8 cabbages for that (I think), and next I’ll be preparing three cabbages (with some red onion, peppers, and carrots) to sit overnight for the canned coleslaw I’ll be making tomorrow. Also tomorrow, or the next day, I’ll be making cabbage soup to can. And we’re leaving one head of cabbage aside to make my Nono’s Italian boiled dinner – cabbage, pepperoni, and potatoes in tomato sauce. A perfect autumn dinner!

We love cabbage. Can you tell?

Autumn blessings to you!

🕊

Seasonal Gratitude

I give thanks to this harvest, to the spirit of these plants, to the spirit of their Medicine… tansy, summer savory, and peppermint, and to all their kin, allies, and comrades of every kind.

As I move through these waning days of Summer, toward, and into the days of Autumn, I honor the harvests… the spirals of birth, life, death and renewal. I honor the soil, the air, the warmth 'n' light of the sun, the waters, and the very spirit that keeps me true to my purpose, true to all life, true to the Earth that nourishes and sustains all of us.

🕊 Peace.

Dried Genovese Basil

This harvest of Genovese Sweet Basil is headed for the dehydrator.

Dried sweet basil is so different from fresh, yet I do love to keep it on hand. I’ve been trimming it throughout the season to use fresh, and to toss in the dehydrator with whatever else was in there. This respectable harvest should now pack the jar I have started to keep us in dried sweet basil till next year.

Plus, I sometimes make a sweet basil tea with the dried stuff. Sometimes I drink it with honey, or with one of my syrups... sometimes I sip it salty, like bouillon.

There’s more to harvest, and those will become a simple basil ‘n’ olive oil pesto that will be packed in a glass jar with a nice sealing layer of olive oil on top. And this will last for months in the refrigerator. ::nods::

I’ll be doing this with Shiso as well!

🕊 Peace.

Black Currant and Black Raspberry Juice

Yesterday we freed up a little space in one of the freezers by processing our summer collection of black currants, and black raspberries.

So today… 3 quarts of black raspberry juice, and 7 quarts of blackcurrant juice are all washed in preparation for labeling and putting on the shelves. Plus there’s almost 3 quarts in the refrigerator.

There’s really no recipe for these these. I cook them down in equal amounts of water by volume, smashing the berries with a potato masher as they simmer for 20 to 30 minutes. Then I strain them, return the strained juice to the pot, add a little organic cane sugar - mostly to enhance the fresh flavor and sweetness of the berries. I do this by taste. I like adding this - as is - to plain or sparkling waters, though my spouse prefers them sweeter and can add more sugar to his at serving time, if he chooses.

These were hot packed, and pressure canned, but folx do HWB sweetened juices.

So now there’s the tomatoes in the freezer to tackle, plus some lovely chicken necks and backs, not to mention cabbages on their way, and the other garden tasks. I guess I better get prioritizing, plotting, 'n' planning! 

🕊 Peace.