A new friend: Red Shiso

Our local natural foods supermarket had a number of starts for sale this season, both veggies and herbs. Despite my best efforts, my lemon cucumber didn't make it, which I think isn't too shabby considering I only lost one start out of the many I planted this year, and our soil isn't spectacular. I returned to the store looking for a squash start to place in the trellis instead, since my young crookneck squash vine is growing like weedy gangbusters and seems quite happy. They were fresh out of squash, but they had other items -- including this noble-looking, impressive dark red herb. Red Shiso? I'd never heard of it. But one taste transported me straight to south Asia, where I might sample a Vietnamese or Thai plate with lemongrass and bamboo shoots, or perhaps an Indian curry. It's delicious! Sometimes, being bold and trying "that weird new thing" has great hidden rewards.

Also called Perilla, and sometimes nicknamed Beefsteak Plant, Red Shiso has a unique, mildly spicy taste a bit reminiscent of cumin. It goes well in meat dishes, Asian stir-fries, or simply in a salad where you desire a certain extra flavor. The leaves range from maroon-tinged green to pure, deep bloodred. Perhaps I'll try it in pulled pork or with steak and beets ...on the rare occasions I take meat in my meal. Otherwise, lovers of meatless tacos, saute and salads will find much to like about this plant. Its interesting taste, for instance, could provide added exotic zing in place of cilantro for those folks who dislike cilantro's occasional "soapy" flavor (personally, I love the stuff).

Finally, let's face it: Red Shiso is a handsome plant. It's also rumored to be quite hardy, even escaping its confining pot. My start wilted partly in our two recent scorching days while waiting to be planted, but immediately perked up on being watered, its broad leaves fanning out overnight. This winter, I hope to keep it going in our greenhouse.

Some forms of Perilla are outrageously beautiful. I mean, *???!* Yow.

Welcome, new friend, to my wild little plot of earth!

Happy Surprises

As a businessperson, healer or writer we sometimes wonder how we will be received (or some of us, make that a lot) by the public ...especially when first starting out. So how happy I was to find two little reviews on one of my Wild Brews e-booklets, both five stars! Two reviews is, of course, not a lot. But both these humble little statements and their attendant rankings mean the same thing, one that's of paramount importance to me: I provided information that some person, somewhere, found to be helpful. That's why I'm in this business to begin with. Success is nice, but a passion you believe in that also helps people -- and planet -- has no equal.

Thank you, readers, for showing some love! I  wish you good health always.

Wild Brews' "Cold and 'Flu" issue seems the most popular so far, and for obvious reasons: Nearly all of us get these all-too-common conditions at some point or other, and some of us get them nearly every season. But we don't have to ...nor are we bereft of ways to ease our suffering.

Gold stars! A new writer's best reward, along with a dollar and a hug. But as always, a good expert keeps learning just as a student does... which means feedback is helpful, especially with a book meant to be an easy-to-use guide. I keep my eyes open for ways to improve Wild Brews, from updating information to adding inner-book hyperlinks.

There is an email for contact,

wildbrewsherbalseries (at) yahoo (dot) com,

...sorry, spam-guys...

as well as Wild Brews on Facebook.

Thank you, dear ones all.

"What are you grateful for today?"

A Genteel Cup

At Wild Brews, I'm all about the... well, brews -- including tea. Add to this a cheerful brigade of Steampunk friends, and you get a lady with an interest in things Victorian as well as herbal. I've begun going to a Tea and Handwork meetup every week or two, where I and a few friends enjoy a variety of teas: A Japanese sencha with strawberry notes or a chocolate chai one week, a South African rooibos or rare Silver Needle white tea from China the next. In addition, we snack on crackers, berries, fruit and sometimes even scones, while relaxing with crafts such as embroidery (my current project, an edgy Sabers sports logo for my team scarf, may not be feminine even if the craft itself is, so don't feel like this sphere is too prissy for you), knitting, sewing or crochet. Our humor is warm, our talk at times bawdy, and most importantly, bonds of community are strengthened. As is said in the book "Three Cups of Tea," with the first cup, you're a stranger; after the second you're a friend; after the third, you're family. Would that we should be so linked at heart.

Naturally, as a result of my interests, I've begun writing a couple of little Wild Brews booklets about tea and Victoriana. Did you know Victorian-era folks had a whole code language based on flowers? Half those flowers have healing properties in addition to secret meanings. Then there's Tea itself, Camellia sinensis: the single plant responsible for the hundreds of different brews that fall under the heading of true teas, unlike so-called herbal "tea," which is more properly a tisane, or infusion. Tea culture is rich, subtle, elegant, flavorful, beautiful... and begs to be explored.

Watch for my two upcoming books on the topics of traditional and flower-based teas.

A delicate cup of pale yet surprisingly pungent strawberry sencha tea. Note the pinky finger, not stuck out ludicrously (one of many misconceptions) but in the position to best achieve a balanced hold on the cup with its small handle

Rooibos tisane and afternoon teatime snacks

Don't miss Trader Joe's delightful new blueberry poppyseed cookies! Tasty yet not too sweet, bite-sized, I find them perfect for tea.

Vegetables are Gorgeous!

Too long since my last post, which featured leeks as a choice "herb". Did you know the word "herb" refers not just to savory cooking sprigs, but to any plant with a part used for food or medicine by people? Even trees can be considered herbs, as in the case of the white willow, whose bark is used for aspirin. Of course, flowering plants can also be herbs.
My month-old, "teenage" leeks are still small and lithe, about a foot tall at most (the package read: "Days to maturity, 110"). My photo was of my friend's leeks; she has several sizes of allium, i.e. onions, elephant garlic, regular garlic and chives, and they all have similar, lovely globe-shaped blossoms of respective size. I also saw a leek specimen in our grocery with a stem *two inches* across! Leeks get BIG.
I'll say it again:
I think alliums are gorgeous, and I can't wait till my leeks look like *this*!

Note the presence of pollinators on this bloom; each flower is a feast for a bee.

Pinky-purple *and* white! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous! Can't wait!

I had a bit of a freak-out the other day, when my poor plants, including the leeks, laid down flat after two days of 90+degree heat, thanks to myself being kept busy and away on consecutive night shifts. But I took a special trip at dusk to water them, and they're back to standing strong again.

"Herb" of the Day: Leeks

I've always loved leeks, those tall, graceful, green relatives of the onion with a sometimes outrageously thick stem. These days, I've bought them frequently at our local Farmers' Market. But today I just purchased a pot of leek starts, and so hope to grow my own crop of the svelte, white-footed alliums.
Mind, until recently I'd only known leeks in their truncated form, lying butchered for purchase on market shelves. It wasn't until I started gardening that I knew what a leek in full flower looked like. And they're gorgeous!

These leeks in the backyard garden I share with a friend show the round flower heads of a delicate purple color, resembling oversized garlic or onion blooms.
Besides a giant pretty stem, why grow leeks? Or for that matter, eat them? Like all alliums, they're good for boosting immunity to nasty things like cold and 'flu. Leeks are wonderful in soups and stews, but can also be added raw to salads so as to get their full health benefits (i.e. vitamin C is destroyed by heat), yet without quite the raging kick of raw onion or garlic. A cup of raw leeks (although this is more than most people may wish to eat at once!) supply half the RDA of vitamin K, and are also rich in vitamins A and C, plus 10 percent each of your daily vitamin B6 and iron. Then there's that cute way a leek parses itself out into handy little bite-sized rings when you slice it.... if you like a bit of fresh green spice and are all right with alliums, what's not to like?
I'm already wondering how big my leeks will get; I'd better give them lots of room.

Tough guys: Urban Weedz

My route today had one primary goal in mind: Picking up some tasty herbs and vegetable starts for my garden (although I didn't say no to a couple of fruit and a Virgil's black cherry cream soda for lunch).

Somewhere between our local co-op and the large natural grocer on 33rd Street, I spotted a rugged gang of plants clinging to a hard-scrabble life in a dry alley. I realized I knew them all: Bravely vanguarding the end of the group in this photo --- and getting stepped on meanwhile --- is Burdock, while just behind, Lemon Balm, Wild Mallow and Plantain crouch for shelter under the graffitied meter box. Just across the alley from them I found Yellow Dock, plus a few grasses.

Plants, I've discovered, are like people in that you get to know them after you've hung out with them long enough. From the moment I clapped eyes on them, the hood-tough plants in this alley weren't just weeds to me --- not any more.

Burdock, a powerhouse of a plant that can reach ten feet high and led to the invention of Velcro with its clever burr-hook technology, is one of our best cleansing herbs for liver, blood, lymph glands, skin, poisoning cases, and even cancer, as is Yellow Dock, which is also great for stimulating bile to detoxify the internal organs. Plaintain is soothing and healing for the skin and mucus membranes, giving relief for bites, stings and wounds. Wild Mallow or Cheeseweed, like its cultivated cousins, is also good for soothing throats and all sensitive bodily membranes. And Lemon Balm is a champ at both calming and uplifing you, improving the digestion while taking care of nervous issues like stress, anxiety and depression.

With all of these plants already in my garden, I left these particular specimens alone. Not just because they had been exposed to high traffic exhaust from busy Alberta Street, either. I figured these tough urban weedz, after rooting out a place for themselves in the concrete jungle, deserved to make a proud statement of their survival abilities and not suffer the added stress of relocation (which must make human moving seem fluffy in comparison). They're not the only ones of their kind; I've spotted each of these plants all over our city. Like our own species, they're adaptors and survivors.

Burdock, Lemon Balm, Yellow Dock, Mallow, Plaintain: Not just weeds! Get to know these plants and what they can do for you. Give the first a week to clear up those zits on your chin, while a single cup of the second just might make your day brighter, or that exam go just a bit easier. Coming to a 'hood near you.... if they aren't already there.

A Summer Garden

Today was a gorgeous day in my opinion. Skies of a bright gray, somewhere between sunshine and rain; a moderate temperature and light breeze; and an early start out of the house and into the world. Why should a day without direct sun be so grand and appreciated? In my case, it's a great day for doing vigorous work outside.

Because I've no yard of my own, a friend kindly lets me plant various green growing things in a part of her backyard. But with over a month dedicated to serious improvement on a snowboard, followed by a couple of trips, my spring garden didn't amount to much! My garden's overgrown, super-weedy status changed over the past two days, which saw the full ploughing and turning of the entire patch, save for a few gangly stems of St. John's Wort and floppy-leafed Yellow Dock plants. After a few intense hours with a spade fork (a wonderful tool for breaking up earth), in which I extracted multiple taproots of lengths over a foot, my backyard garden is a beautiful sight: A big expanse of rich brown earth, eagerly awaiting new tenants.

So who will I find to dwell in my new Summer and Autumn Garden? I'm big on healthy organic food and herbs, both of which I promote in my Wild Brews book series. If I'm not growing them, I try to purchase them at our local Farmers' Markets. But now, with a garden ready, why not? So vegetables like beets, onions, and carrots are definitely on the list.

Heading home, I ducked into all the nurseries and herbariums on the way to get ideas. In doing so, I added the herbs Lady's Mantle, Pineapple Sage and Horehound to my tenant list; I already have seeds for Anise Hyssop, a favorite of bees. I also found some lovely young broccoli starts, plus vines of lemon-cucumber and yellow crookneck squash.

Simply put, I'm incredibly excited and can't wait to start planting... then to watch the magic of Earth, Sun and Water unfold all over again.

Plant love! Stalking the healthful herbs.

A whole lotta tillin' going on... It's weedageddon out here today, but helpful weed-herbs like blooming St. John's Wort and (background) Yellow Dock are allowed to stay. Some weed-herbs, such as Burdock and Fennel, I actually brought into the garden earlier this spring.

Yikes! So what is with these gigantic taproots? Besides a successful method of plant entrepreneurship, the stout, deeply-reaching roots of Viper's Bugloss (which also put out thick lateral runners to propagate more plants) are a result of my allowances earlier this year. When I began my planting, the Bugloss was in full bloom... and covered with bees. Obviously, Bugloss, with its bright blue, star-shaped flowers, is an important nectar source for honey and bumble bees. Rather than whack it all up, I let the Bugloss bloom, so those roots just kept getting bigger and thicker.

Now, with the blooming over, and the bees partaking of my St. John's Wort, Catmint and Perovskia, I didn't feel as badly about uprooting the pretty but pernicious Bugloss --- easier said than done, as Bugloss taproots also have an outer sheath that sometimes slips right out, leaving most of the root in the ground. In any case, you'll be hard-put to root out every piece if you've got Bugloss in your garden. The Bugloss family, incidentally, are all cousins of Borage, and share many of the same benefits and properties. I can't blame Bugloss just because it's good at doing a brisk business! Not when that business benefits bees and other wildlife. As an author of a book about bees, I prefer to walk my talk ...and dig my dirt.

Last but not least, a surprise that reveals a happy and thriving ecosystem: A bird's nest built in a mingled clump of Viper's Bugloss and Lemon Balm. Empty when I found it, the nest received careful weeding around its supports as I prepped the patch, and hasn't been subjected to the demo crew yet. Maybe I'll leave it up as a blessing.