Lavender

When we built our house I knew I wanted a lavender hedge along the front. There is something about lavender bushes all in a row that feels good. Think how we love those pictures of Provence with fields of lavender stretching in the distance towards ancient abbey buildings. Part of me was after that heart-lifting feeling, the other practical part fixed on lavender’s antibacterial properties as a justification. Because it is a very useful plant in herbal medicine and household remedies.

According to Margaret Roberts, my favourite South African herb guru, lavender helps ward off fleas, flies, fishmoths and cockroaches – there was a reason for our grandmothers using lavender bags tucked into drawers of clothes and linen. I’ve been tucking bunches of fresh lavender behind books on shelves and into drawers for years now, except I’m not patient enough to sew it into bags, so tend to end up with lots of dried lavender flowers sprinkled all over the bottom of drawers months later. But it smells nice, so I don’t mind.

Lavender Tea
One of my favourite ways to use lavender is as a relaxing tea, when I’m stressed or anxious. It has a lovely calming effect and I quite enjoy the rather perfumey taste. Try it for insomnia too. It’s also a good antispasmodic, so eases headaches, muscle aches and stiffness. Plus lavender has antiseptic properties, so a tea is useful for washing out scrapes and scratches, and for cleansing oily skin. And it’s good as a hair rinse for hair bothered by the oily scalp of adolescence!

To make lavender tea, simply pick quarter of a cup of flowers, pour over a cup of boiling water. Leave to steep for five minutes. Then remove the flowers (or leave them in if you prefer) and sip.

Lavender Play
Our lavender hedge, ten years on, is getting very ragged and uneven with bare patches here and there. Youngest found it a perfect place to play with her horses and figures, creating gardens and landscapes in the shady secret gaps. A few months ago, when it was still winter, I announced that it was time to dig out the hedge out and start again with new little bushes. She was horrified, “But that is where I play.”
I let it rest for a week or two before bringing it up again. She then, in a very grown-up way, suggested,
“Can’t you leave it till next year. This is probably the last year I’ll be young enough to want to play in the lavender and if you plant new ones now they won’t be big enough to play in before I’m too old.”

How could I argue with that poignant plea. The lavender hedge remains. The fairy/horse landscapes haven’t been refreshed for a while now, but the space is still there for her last fling with childhood. Sigh.

Wild forests in the making

for these guys to explore and roam free

ancient twisted trees and magic groves

and they make great places for kittens to stage ambushes from

Lavender recipes
Here are two recipes that use lavender flowers for a subtle and elegant flavour, perfect for something different at Christmas, something that’s not spice, chocolate or rich dried fruit, to give your tastebuds a spot of light relief!

Lavender biscuits

Lavender and Apple Cake

Note: There are lots of different varieties of lavender. The best to use for medicinal and cooking purposes are the varieties usually sold as English lavender Lavandula angustifolia or lavandula intermedia.

Seeds

The mornings have a touch of autumn now, an occasional chill mist thrusting tendrils in through the door as we eat breakfast. The sun gets up after us on school days, surprised to find us already at the table as he beams in blindingly over the cereal boxes. Not to say that summer is over. Hot days still demand sun cream and water bottles filled with ice cubes. We are just getting the first hint that we need to make the most of summer now, as its days are numbered.

In the herb garden I can see a progression. Summer profusion is gradually being supplanted by the need to make seeds, as the herbs, more aware of the harshness of winter than we are, make plans for survival next season. When I planted, I hadn’t really thought of a seed harvest. I was looking for leafy flavour for the kitchen, and gentle herbal remedies for family ailments. The seeds are an unlooked for bonus. Because now I can harvest even more flavour from the garden.

The coriander that bolts to flower all too easily, is now busily working on a harvest of coriander seed, spicy but with an orangey tinge, perfect for curries and vegetable stews.

The fennel plants, so tall and grand, are bowing over as their seeds ripen, sweet aniseed goodness for digestion, also good as a pinch of seed thrown into a veggie casserole.

The dill seeds too, similar but with a slightly less sweet flavour than fennel , are ready to harvest and if I can get round to cleaning them and removing the husks can be sprinkled ion rolls and loaves of bread.

I will keep some seeds over for planting next season and save the rest for eating. The rocket looks like it is busy sowing its own seeds for next season, so maybe my herb garden will be less ordered next year. Fewer neat geometric rows and more profusion of herbs all intertwined where they sowed themselves? I don’t know, but will wait to see, and remain in awe of the abundance that just a few packets of seeds  brings forth in one season. I haven’t even finished up the original seed packets yet, despite having more than enough of everything for a far bigger family than ours.

As a total co-incidence, or auspicious timing, whatever you will, after writing this post I have just looked up my moon gardening calendar for the best time to harvest seeds. A waxing moon in Leo it said. I check the date and guess what! Today and tomorrow the moon is in Leo just before the full moon on Friday so the timing is perfect.(edited to add – this was last week, as I never got round to posting!)  I’ll be cooking with seeds for sure this weekend!

Tomato Sauce - Fresh From The Garden

Every year when tomato season comes round again, I tell myself it’s time to learn the art of canning. Now we’re surrounded by trays of tomatoes, taking over the shelves where my pots and pans used to be stored and ripening too fast, and I still haven’t got around to it. It’s something about having to go out and buy canning jars seals and whatnot, that makes it seem like a huge undertaking. Or maybe it’s that simmering the filled jars in water. Anyway I’m still resorting to the freezer when it comes to preserving our tomato crop and the freezer is crammed to the gills.

When my mother was here we picked, peeled, chopped and froze kilos of tomatoes. They sit in a heap in the freezer in bags of the equivalent size to a tin of tomatoes, so that I won’t have to buy a tin for months. I made a huge batch of tomato sauce for pizza and froze it. A couple of double batches of Jane-Anne’s Roast Tomato and Onion soup are crammed in next to containers of stock, ready for slightly cooler weather. And still the tomatoes are ripening ready to harvest.

But there’s something so nice about having fresh ripe tomatoes with flavour always on hand for pasta sauce or salads. Our son may not agree when it’s pasta with tomato sauce again for supper, but the fresh tomatoes with fresh herbs from the garden are a hundred times better than any other tomato sauce in the world.

I’ve picked up a great tip from Marcella Hazan for a tomato sauce with tuna - start off the sauce with several tablespoons of chopped parsley fried in olive oil with a little garlic. It gives a wonderful depth of flavour to the sauce, mellowing it slightly and anchoring that fresh tomato sprightliness. Then you can throw in other fresh herbs to cook with the tomato and try different combinations to ring the changes. A little lemon thyme, or oregano, a sage leaf or a sprig of rosemary all give a slightly end result. Or a scattering of torn basil leaves thrown in at the very end.

Recipe For Fresh Tomato Pasta Sauce with Herbs and Tuna

About eight ripe tomatoes peeled and chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove of garlic peeled and chopped
3 tablespoons fresh parsley finely chopped
A few sprigs of mixed fresh herbs – oregano, thyme, sage, rosemary according to your whim
170g / 6oz can tuna drained
500g / 1lb pasta

Gently fry the chopped garlic in the olive oil until just starting to colour.
Add the chopped parsley and cook for about a minute stirring now and then.
Add the chopped tomatoes with the other  fresh herbs and a seasoning of salt and pepper.
Bring to a steady simmer and cook for about 15-20 minutes until the liquid has reduced and the tomatoes have reached a sauce like consistency.
Meanwhile cook the pasta to be ready at the same time as the sauce.
At the very end of the sauce cooking time add the tuna and stir it into the tomato sauce, giving it just enough time to warm through, but not letting it cook for any length of time.
Immediately the pasta has drained toss it with the sauce and serve. No need for parmesan with a tuna sauce, but you could sprinkle it with some torn basil leaves for extra flavour.

I sometimes have a little extra tomato and tuna sauce left over. It makes a delicious spread for bread at lunch time and Youngest loves it in her school sandwiches too.

Marigolds

Pottering with intent in the herb garden is the best way to start a summer’s morning, knowing that soon it will be too hot in blazing sunshine, enjoying the caress of cool air on bare shoulders while it lasts.

The smell of marigolds wafts from my hands as I type, an hour and several hand washings since my early morning pruning spree. Midsummer and the herb garden is burgeoning. The marigold seeds that I planted to ward off bugs, have lived up to their name; a name that I never bothered reading on the seed packet: Sunset  Giants. And they are still growing, overshadowing the parsley, surrounding the little rosemary bush, so that its destiny as part of a hedge is now threatened by an inferiority complex. I can hardly squeeze past on the path to pick rocket, where two thickets of marigolds meet and try to push each other out of the way.

It’s the last day of the old moon waning; it’s still in Capricorn and my moon planting calendar says prune, transplant trees. As soon as the children are safely bundled off to school, I forget about breakfast dishes on the table and wander out with secateurs and spade in hand.

Two tiny self seeded white stinkwoods need moving into pots, until winter, when maybe I can plant them elsewhere on the farm to grow into big trees one day. A sprig of yarrow comes with one, so I leave it in the pot. I love how rich the once-dry, sandy soil has grown since starting the garden in August. It’s nothing like the rich loam of some areas but it has a darker richer feel than before, like a sprinkling of cocoa in a sponge cake, and it is smoother and softer in texture.

The mulberry trees are reaching to the sky and need a trim to encourage bushing out, so that I can pick next spring’s crop of finger-inking berries without a ladder. I feel cruel cutting off tips that are so fiercely full of life. It takes a while to get used to that cruel to be kind aspect of gardening. I still can’t bring myself to thin out rows of vibrant rocket seedlings, so they end up growing thickly, vying for space and elbow room.

But I steel myself to deal with those pushy marigolds, planted to protect the other plants and now threatening to engulf them, deprive them of sunshine and air and take everything for themselves. A little trimming later, they look as huge as ever, but at least the path is clearer and the parsley and thyme now have some light. There is a vase of bright orange blooms on the dining table and a scattering of marigold prunings thrown on to an empty space, destined to hold garlic in a month or two, as mulch.

I never used to like the smell of marigolds much, but it’s growing on me, taking me out to my herb garden even when I am back inside, doors closed against the heat, typing away at the computer and gearing up for the dryer, dusty piece of work that awaits.

Herb Story

Lush growth, rampant flowering, overpowering greenness. The success story of my herb garden this summer has been inspiring, filling me with joy every morning, as I gather a handful of herbs to treat the children's bunnies with. The parsley is so abundant that I can feed it to them with no regrets, in fact they are doing me a favour, as I hate to waste it and it needs picking to keep it growing throughout the season. They even get basil as I nip off the heads about to flower

and they love the rocket, which spirals out of control and into flower in no time.

Yet all this burgeoning fertility conceals a few sadder stories that escape the eye at first glance, concealed by the outsized swathe of marigolds, planted to repel bugs and expected to be half the size that they have achieved so far.

The row of coriander seeds, that I planted a month ago to succeed a defunct row of rocket, struggled to make it through to the light. While the adjacent new row of rocket germinated and grew strong,

only one seedling of coriander emerged. I weeded around it tenderly, straining my eyesight to see if any other seedling would emerge next to it. I watered it every day, determined to preserve this one precious plant, and yet, last week’s several days of over 40C must have overpowered its delicate new leaves. When I looked for it on the weekend, it seemed to have shrunk back into itself, almost back into the ground, its early braveness as a lone survivor fading too timidly to make it in the harsh world I’d exposed it to.

As gardener in chief I could only mourn it briefly, before looking at the moon calendar to find a propitious day to plant a new row of seeds, in hope that they would have a luckier start in the world. The coriander planted in October has totally gone to flower,

so a new row is sorely needed to keep our salads and curries supplied with fresh zingy flavour.

But I empathise with that one brave but vanquished seed – sometimes I feel like shrinking back under a comfortable layer of soil too, away from the harsh light of day. It is having the support of the rest of the row, a family supporting and offering companionship, that raises spirits enough to survive the heat, put out new leaves and brave each new day as it comes.

So fingers crossed that the latest row of coriander germinates prolifically and grows apace with plenty of company.

My herb garden back in September...

rampantly spilling over the paths in January...

Calcium for the Nearly Teens

Our son is growing fast. No longer a child, he is on the brink of a growth spurt, lanky limbs and no spare flesh. Last year he managed to fracture one wrist playing soccer and on Christmas Day he sprained the other falling from his new J-board. Growing bones are apparently prone to green stick fractures and lanky limbs tend to be uncoordinated, though I think we just need to teach him to fall more gracefully – acting classes or judo?!

He’s been a picky eater since toddlerhood and shows no signs of voluntarily taking to vegetables. Rice and baked beans is a favourite dish. After the fracture we suddenly became more conscious of the fact that he probably needs more calcium than he’s getting from his chosen foods, to build his growing bones properly. He eats yoghurt but not milk. Green leafy vegetables are totally yuk. Eggs bleagh. Nuts ditto. Seeds...don’t even think about it. Sardines, no way!

So I started researching the amounts of calcium required for a growing teen and alternative sources that he might just possibly consider.

The good news is that his bowl of yoghurt, as long as he has it every breakfast, provides 400mg of calcium, so that is a third of his 1200mg minimum daily requirement sorted.

His cheese sandwich for school lunch provides another 150-200 mg.
When oranges are in season right through winter we’re in luck, as one orange provides about 70 mg calcium and he will happily eat a whole one at breakfast. Strawberries in summer have 25-30mg per cup and we’ve had a bumper year, but even strawberries can get boring after a while.

Now we’re scouting around for another 500 mg. The only green vegetable he’ll eat without protest is broccoli and that is good for 180mg per cup... so if he would just eat a few more florets it would make a difference. But there are plenty of other things he eats which have some calcium in – apple juice has 17mg per cup, a baked potato about 26 mg, Even his staple baked beans have a decent amount of calcium.

So it looks like I don’t have to force feed him sardines just yet... thank goodness, because I don’t even like them much myself! For the rest, meat has some calcium, so does wholewheat bread and my herb garden is a calcium supplement in itself. Parsley has plenty of calcium as well as other vitamins and minerals, rosemary and thyme provide calcium too in small amounts, plus are packed with other valuable nutrients. I haven’t persuaded him to accept chopped parsley sprinkled over his food just yet, but he did drink some of my rosemary tea this morning without complaint, so I think he has a chance of growing some strong bones after all.

And the mother’s devious strategy of cooking up mince with loads of chopped vegetables in it works for him, as long as he can swallow the vegetables without having to chew them! So onions, garlic, carrots, tomato paste, herbs and maybe even some shredded spinach will all add plenty of calcium and other nutrients to the meat.

And the vitamin D essential for absorption of calcium is in abundant supply at the moment – the sun is shining and it is way too hot – we’ve had over 40C for three days now, without a cool night breeze to bring relief, but at least he is down at the swimming pool absorbing some bone-building vitamin D and collecting freckles... so now I guess we just have to worry about sun-damage.. those anxious parent blues!

A belated Happy Christmas and Happy New Year to you! My blog has managed to totally ignore the whole festive season this year, but now the tree will be coming down today, I seem to have time and thoughts for writing again. Looking forward to catching up with reading all your blogs again too!xx

Stevia and Mint Tea For Cold Sores

 Ever since reading about stevia in Margaret Roberts’ herb book I have been fascinated. A herb that is sweeter than sugar, but is also good for blood pressure, blood sugar, cholesterol and even fights against tooth decay? Too good to be true, it had to be. So when I was compiling a wish list of plants for my herb garden I added it in, not at all sure that it would be available in our area. To my surprise my sister-in-law returned with it that very day, along with two tea tree plants, which I’d also thought would be a rarity item.

Now my stevia plants have had a couple of months to settle in, I am finally daring to pick their leaves and try out some of Margaret Roberts’ recommendations. Her 100 favourite herbs book makes it incredibly easy to use fresh herbs for gentle medicinal use. Usually all you need is a quarter cup of leaves infused in a cup of boiling water for five minutes. Then sip. I’m constantly surprised at the flavours, which are mostly refreshing and delicious, not needing any honey, which is an optional extra, to sweeten them.

One of stevia’s properties is as an antiviral and antibacterial herb. I’ve just had a chance to test its mettle against cold sores. Horrible things, making your life miserable just when you thought you were getting over the cold that brought them on. Louise Hay says cold sores are caused by angry thoughts and sure enough this time one showed up on Monday when I was seething about the iniquity of banks. So now I’m a guinea –pig. Will a cup of stevia and mint tea a day help prevent the cold sore from developing, or at least reduce its ferocity? Re-reading the book I see it should be peppermint rather than garden mint and she also recommends adding elderflowers:

Margaret Roberts' tea for Cold Sores
1 tablespoon fresh or dried elderflowers
1 tablespoon peppermint sprigs
2 stevia leaves
Crush and chop the stevia leaves to release the sweetness. Pour one cup of boiling water over the herbs. Allow to steep for five minutes. Strain (or not) and sip.
Drink one cup three times a week to clear the Herpes simplex virus from the body.

So now I have two more herbs to add to my wish list. In the mean time I’m going to carry on drinking my stevia and mint tea. I think it may be helping and anyway it’s delicious; fresh and minty with a bit of sweetness that bursts into intensity whenever you bite into a little bit of the chopped herb floating in the tea. Perfect for sugar cravings too, as it has almost no calories and you can just pick a leaf and chew it whenever the need for a sugar fix overtakes you!

I’m looking forward to making a sweet syrup from stevia in summer to add to cool drinks and lemonade instead of sugar. All it needs is 10 leaves to a litre of water boiled for 15 minutes and you have enough sweetness to save you several cups of sugar. I’ll let you know how it goes and more to the point whether it passes the child-taste-test.

Cultivation of Stevia
Stevia is native to South America where it has been used since the earliest civilizations discovered it and named it honey leaf. It grows fairly easily in South Africa, being quite tough and just needing deep watering twice a week. It dies down in winter and sends up new shoots in spring.

Edited to add, two weeks on: I really do think this tea helped keep the cold sore under control. Although this was far from a scientific experiment, and I also drank a few cups of Melissa tea which helps too, the cold sore never developed into a full blown, crusty, miserable beacon and has healed fairly quickly. It also was less painful and tingly than usual. Margaret Roberts recommends drinking the tea three times a week over a period of time to clear the virus from the body, so I will continue and hope that I get fewer as time goes by!

Herb Garden Growing

Has anyone seen my creativity?

I was sure I had it somewhere around here a while back...

Unless I buried it all in the herb garden and it still hasn’t sprouted.

Everything else is sprouting nicely. My rocket is ready to pick already and I’ve got some recognizable parsley and coriander coming up in not very neat rows. There is still a thrill in planting little tiny seeds and seeing them transform into real plants.

Which I will soon be able to pick. And use unstintingly in my cooking. It is however a lesson in patience. Each day I go out there and wonder whether I can just pinch one little leaf to put in a salad. And contain myself and wait.

Luckily some of the other  herbs I planted as bigger plants have settled in nicely.

I’ve been dosing my cold with lemon thyme tea, pinching sprigs of tea tree for gentle inhalation for the kids’ colds, taking a leaf of sage to go with thyme, lemon, honey and ginger for coughs and using the lemon balm/melissa in a soothing tea too.

There is plenty of oregano for tomato sauces and the stevia is getting big enough to try it out as a natural sweetener in cooking. I’ll let you know when I start experimenting.

The catnip is bushing out wildly, unmolested by the cats, who went mad over it and rolled it half to death when I first put it in. The fennel and chamomile have gone crazy and my established rosemary plant looks like an alarmed hedgehog with all its new spring growth.

And the new mulberries are ripening. We’ve been feasting straight from the tree a few berries at a time, but next year, moles allowing, there’ll be enough for berry muffins and summer pudding again.

It’s a growing patch full of wonderful energy, goodness and vitality.

I have a moon calendar on the wall and decided to go the whole way towards biodynamic gardening, planting by the moon, not just when it is waxing but in the most propitious astrological sign too. I know there is a lot more involved than that but am learning a little at a time.

There are a few rose quartz crystals tucked into beds and I’ve been moving them around nearer to any plants that seem to be struggling.

This little basil plant is lagging way behind its siblings, but is looking a little greener on top since yesterday when the quartz joined it... so maybe it really is working!

Even the grass, which is growing all over the garden from the compost we mixed in, has been useful. Whenever the children’s rabbits and guinea pig need feeding I go and weed a handful of grass for them. They convert it almost instantly back to compost!

I'm loving this whole sustainable cycle. Loving the fact that I can pick fresh herbs for teas as natural remedies for all sorts of ailments. Loving the fact that there are all those flavours growing just outside my kitchen.

Soon , soon, soon I’ll be able to try all those recipes that demand bunches of fresh coriander and parsley. Can’t wait.

Building A Herb Garden

Small seeds grow into bigger things. In the case of my herb garden, one seed of an idea has taken root, thrown out off-shoots and taken over completely.

All I planned to do was make another bed. The herb garden was looking neglected and all but the toughest herbs had shrivelled away in the heat of last summer, leaving just my stalwart rosemary and lavender bushes, as well as the scented geraniums that seem to thrive here whatever you do to them. Last year I ended up growing my basil and parsley in a pot, which is crazy seeing how much space we have here.

So this new bed was to be slightly raised, with lashings of compost and organic matter added to make a nice cushy home for the pickier herbs – basil, parsley, sage, oregano and so on. My sisters-in-law planned to give me some herbs for my birthday to re-stock the new bed. That was going to be all.

Then I thought of bricking the main path through the garden, basically just a sandy track worn by the dogs running through to chase cars, with some leftover bricks we had stacked in a corner.

That is when things took on their own momentum. Before I knew it, the whole family had taken the idea and run with it. Now one bed was nicely laid out the others needed to be raised to the same level. No point just bricking the one path, we’ll level all of them to be bricked. And what about the area beyond the bed.

We should lay out that at the same time, and round the rain-water tank… so we’d better make a proper retaining wall that side to build up the area around the olive trees, which is at a higher level than the main herb garden.

Our two farm-workers also joined in the enthusiastic makeover and have been working on the paths and beds all week making everything just so, asking me to decide things every step of the way, so my usual vague, see what happens, not quite ever finishing things off modus operandi has been thwarted. Now I have to live up to the garden, which is obviously planning to be finished and beautiful this year, rather than in some dim and distant future.

Seeing how things were taking shape so alarmingly quickly, I felt that I needed to put my own mark on the garden. The scarily straight and perfect motorway outline of the main path, so carefully worked out with string lines and levels, had to have something to slow it down, to keep the energy meandering among the herbs.

So I decided that I would lay the bricks for the path myself, in a herringbone pattern. And that is why I’ve stayed away from my blog for a couple of weeks. Last weekend I was putting in the time and putting in the bricks. Every day in the week while supper was cooking I’d nip out and put in a few more. This morning I reached the house end of the path. The only reason I’m here writing about it now is because the rain started bucketing down.

The only trouble is, our vision has expanded way beyond the leftover bricks in the corner. We’re going to have to go and order another shed-load of bricks to get all these paths paved and my weekends are sorted for the next month or so! But it’s going to look gorgeous. And once it is all planted up, I’ll have a medicine garden on my doorstep. There are already two tea tree plants waiting to go in and some buchu, as my sister in law couldn’t resist buying a few plants even before we got to my birthday.

So my next project is learning about herbs and their medicinal uses, courtesy of Margaret Roberts’ excellent books and hopefully a visit to the herb lady who lives on a farm quite near us.

I'll post some more photos when more paths are finished and the beds are planted up.