Maitohorsmat, ystäväni maitohorsmat. Jo vuosia olen katsellut teitä, muistellen sitä mehevän mahevan ihanaa teetä, jota kerran teistä tein. Mutta en ole saanut uudestaan kerätyksi.
Kerrottakoon, että mustan teen ja maitohorsmanlehtien sekoitusta kutsutaan koporje-teeksi (Koporje sijaitsee vähän Pietarista itään), että aikanaan on yritetty ansaita rahaa myymällä horsmanlehtiä teenä, ja että nuorta maitohorsmaa voi käyttää kuin parsaa (siis sitä oikeaa parsaa, ei parsakaalia). Ja kerrottakoon, että Alaskassa maitohormasta tehdään karamelleja ja siirappia. Ne tehdään kukista—ja se on hyvä sellaisille kuin minä, jotka ovat surullisesti unohtaneet maitohorsman koko alkukesäksi. Siirapin ohje löytyy englanniksi täältä, ja kerron lisää heti, kun olen ehtinyt sitä kokeilla.
p.s. Eikö olekin viehättävää, että maitohorma on englanniksi fireweed?
Näytetään tekstit, joissa on tunniste herbs. Näytä kaikki tekstit
Näytetään tekstit, joissa on tunniste herbs. Näytä kaikki tekstit
19 heinäkuuta 2012
17 heinäkuuta 2012
While I've just gone drowsy / Kun minusta vain tuli raukea
Drowsiness of long, rainy days. The summer before—and the one before that and the one before that—was hot and dry, endless buckets of water to the vegetable garden, endless trips to lakes to dip in the cool water, endless days of sunshine. This summer I've thought I'm in a novel by Garcia Márquez, mold spreading from the corners of the tub I bought to cool down in on too hot days that never came, water pouring down from rooftops, damp wood in the stove. I'm already used to wearing thick woolen socks and yellow rubber boots, to covering myself with my yellow raincoat when I go outside to do the dishes or pick strawberries. Like in one hundred years of solitude, rain has become something that simply is. I bake cookies and drink endless cups of tea, read a book and see from the kitchen window how the forest draws closer when I don't weed tree saplings and lupines. Roses, bluebells, hays, tansies, thistles, all kind of flowers and bushes and trees, they have all gone wild, wild, while I've just gone drowsy. Rain fills my head with an heavy emptiness.
What I managed to do yesterday, however, except for not finding the murderer before Poirot, was to gather bunches of meadowsweet in the rain. Most of them I'll use later to dye wool, but some five litres of flowers I'm going to make into a drink today. I thought the recipe would be something like this,
Meadowsweet drink
2,5 litres meadowsweet flowers, buds are fine too
5 litres water
500 g sugar
25 g citric acid
Bring water and sugar to boil and pour the liquid on flowers. Let it sit over night. Sieve and add the citric acid. Bottle and store in a cool place.
Or, if I'd rather make it sima-like, then this,
Meadowsweet sima
5 litres water
1 liter meadowsweet flowers
1-2 lemons
400 g sugar
a pea-size clod of yeast
Rinse the flowers and leave them in a big pot. Peel the lemon and slice it on the top of flowers. Bring water to boil and pour on flowers and lemon slices. Add sugar. Let it cool until handwarm and add yeast. Let it brew approximately for 24 hours, then sieve and bottle. Store in a cool place.
Pitkien sateisten päivien uneliaisuus. Viime kesä—ja kesä sitä ennen ja sitä ennen—oli kuuma ja kuiva, loputtomia ämpärillisiä vettä kasvimaalle, loputtomia matkoja järvelle kastautumaan viileään veteen, loputon auringonpaiste. Tänä kesänä on tuntunut kuin olisin Garcia Márquezin romaanissa, home leviää paljun nurkista kuin ivaten ajatustani viilentyä siinä kuumina kesäpäivinä, joita ei koskaan tullut, vesi valuu katoilta, polttopuut ovat aina hieman kosteita. En enää kummastele, että vedän jalkaani paksut harmaat villasukat vielä heinäkuussa, kun menen ulos tiskaamaan tai poimimaan mansikoita vedän jalkaani keltaiset kumisaappaat ja niskaani keltaisen sadetakin. Niin kuin sadassa vuodessa yksinäisyyttä, sateesta on tullut jotakin, joka vain on. Leivon pikkuleipiä ja juon loputtomia kuppeja teetä, luen kirjoja ja näen keittiön ikkunasta, kuinka metsä lähestyy kun en jaksa kitkeä puidentaimia ja lupiineja. Ruusut, sinikellot, heinät, pietaryrtit, ohdakkeet, kaiken maailman kukat ja pensaat ja puut, kaikki ovat villiintyneet, villiintyneet, kun minusta on vain tullut raukea. Sade täyttää pään raskaalla tyhjyydellä.
Kaikesta huolimatta onnistuin eilen, sen lisäksi etten keksinyt murhaajaa ennen Poirotia, keräämään sateessa kimpuittain mesiangervoa. Suurimman osan niputin ja laitoin roikkumaan puutarhamajaan jotta värjään niillä myöhemmin villaa, mutta viitisen litraa kukkia jätin juomaan, jonka aion tehdä tänään. Ajattelin, että se voisi olla jotakin tällaista:
Mesiangervojuoma
2,5 l mesiangervonkukkia, myös nuppuisia
5 l vettä
500 g sokeria
25 g sitruunahappoa
Kiehauta vesi ja sokeri ja kaada huuhdeltujen kukkien päälle. Anna seistä yön yli. Siivilöi ja lisää sitruunahappo. Pullota ja säilytä viileässä.
Tai jos enemmän simankaltainen juoma, niin sitten näin:
Mesiangervosima
5 l vettä
1 l mesiangervonkukkia
1-2 sitruunaa
400 g sokeria
herneenkokoinen pallura hiivaa
Huuhdo kukkaset ja laita kuorittujen, viipaloitujen sitruunoiden kanssa suureen kattilaan. Kiehauta vesi ja kaada kukkien päälle. Lisää sokeri. Anna jäähtyä, kunnes se on kädenlämpöistä, ja lisää hiiva. Anna käydä noin vuorokauden ajan, siivilöi ja pullota. Säilytä viileässä.
What I managed to do yesterday, however, except for not finding the murderer before Poirot, was to gather bunches of meadowsweet in the rain. Most of them I'll use later to dye wool, but some five litres of flowers I'm going to make into a drink today. I thought the recipe would be something like this,
Meadowsweet drink
2,5 litres meadowsweet flowers, buds are fine too
5 litres water
500 g sugar
25 g citric acid
Bring water and sugar to boil and pour the liquid on flowers. Let it sit over night. Sieve and add the citric acid. Bottle and store in a cool place.
Or, if I'd rather make it sima-like, then this,
Meadowsweet sima
5 litres water
1 liter meadowsweet flowers
1-2 lemons
400 g sugar
a pea-size clod of yeast
Rinse the flowers and leave them in a big pot. Peel the lemon and slice it on the top of flowers. Bring water to boil and pour on flowers and lemon slices. Add sugar. Let it cool until handwarm and add yeast. Let it brew approximately for 24 hours, then sieve and bottle. Store in a cool place.
Pitkien sateisten päivien uneliaisuus. Viime kesä—ja kesä sitä ennen ja sitä ennen—oli kuuma ja kuiva, loputtomia ämpärillisiä vettä kasvimaalle, loputtomia matkoja järvelle kastautumaan viileään veteen, loputon auringonpaiste. Tänä kesänä on tuntunut kuin olisin Garcia Márquezin romaanissa, home leviää paljun nurkista kuin ivaten ajatustani viilentyä siinä kuumina kesäpäivinä, joita ei koskaan tullut, vesi valuu katoilta, polttopuut ovat aina hieman kosteita. En enää kummastele, että vedän jalkaani paksut harmaat villasukat vielä heinäkuussa, kun menen ulos tiskaamaan tai poimimaan mansikoita vedän jalkaani keltaiset kumisaappaat ja niskaani keltaisen sadetakin. Niin kuin sadassa vuodessa yksinäisyyttä, sateesta on tullut jotakin, joka vain on. Leivon pikkuleipiä ja juon loputtomia kuppeja teetä, luen kirjoja ja näen keittiön ikkunasta, kuinka metsä lähestyy kun en jaksa kitkeä puidentaimia ja lupiineja. Ruusut, sinikellot, heinät, pietaryrtit, ohdakkeet, kaiken maailman kukat ja pensaat ja puut, kaikki ovat villiintyneet, villiintyneet, kun minusta on vain tullut raukea. Sade täyttää pään raskaalla tyhjyydellä.
Kaikesta huolimatta onnistuin eilen, sen lisäksi etten keksinyt murhaajaa ennen Poirotia, keräämään sateessa kimpuittain mesiangervoa. Suurimman osan niputin ja laitoin roikkumaan puutarhamajaan jotta värjään niillä myöhemmin villaa, mutta viitisen litraa kukkia jätin juomaan, jonka aion tehdä tänään. Ajattelin, että se voisi olla jotakin tällaista:
Mesiangervojuoma
2,5 l mesiangervonkukkia, myös nuppuisia
5 l vettä
500 g sokeria
25 g sitruunahappoa
Kiehauta vesi ja sokeri ja kaada huuhdeltujen kukkien päälle. Anna seistä yön yli. Siivilöi ja lisää sitruunahappo. Pullota ja säilytä viileässä.
Tai jos enemmän simankaltainen juoma, niin sitten näin:
Mesiangervosima
5 l vettä
1 l mesiangervonkukkia
1-2 sitruunaa
400 g sokeria
herneenkokoinen pallura hiivaa
Huuhdo kukkaset ja laita kuorittujen, viipaloitujen sitruunoiden kanssa suureen kattilaan. Kiehauta vesi ja kaada kukkien päälle. Lisää sokeri. Anna jäähtyä, kunnes se on kädenlämpöistä, ja lisää hiiva. Anna käydä noin vuorokauden ajan, siivilöi ja pullota. Säilytä viileässä.
Aphantopus hyperantus
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| A ringlet, Aphantopus hyperantus, tesmaperhonen. Unlike many butterflies, they don't mind cloudy weather, but esteem it by spreading their wings. Toisin kuin niin monet perhoset, tesmaperhosia ei haittaa pilvisyys, vaan ne juhlistavat sitä levittämällä siipensä näytille. |
 | |
| My glutenfree experiments have led to my husband asking pancakes for breakfast when he comes here for weekends. This time soy and quinoa flour with a nut and herb topping. My favourite teacup on the side. Gluteenittomat kokeilut ovat johtaneet siihen, että mies kinuaa aamiaiseksi lättyjä aina viettäessään viikonlopun luonani mökillä. Tällä kertaa lätyissä on soija- ja kinuajauhoja, päällä pähkinäyrttimöyhö. Vieressä lempiteekuppini. |
 | ||
| I thought forest strawberries would prefer sunshine, but on this
terribly rainy summer they have decided to spread everywhere, wherever
you look, strawberries. Luulin metsämansikoiden pitävän auringosta, mutta tänä järkyttävän sateisena kesänä ne ovatkin levinneet kaikkialle, minne ikinä katson, mansikoita. |
 | |
| Strawberries. Litres and litres of tiny strawberries. Mansikoita, litroittain, litroittain pieniä mansikoita. |
 | |
| Oh, the stupid ants. Not only the clary sage, but also thyme. Pahkapäiset muurahaiset! Paitsi että ovat valloittaneet myskisalviamaan, ne ovat peittäneet timjaminkin. |
13 heinäkuuta 2012
July garden. Heinäkuinen puutarha.
 |
| Chamomile. Kamomilla. |
 |
| My blackberry's yet only a sapling, but she decided to make buds. Karhunvatukkan nuppuilee, vaikka on vielä taimonen. |
 |
| First calendulas. Ensimmäiset kehäkukat. |
 |
| Ants made their nest under the clary sage. Muurahaiset tekivät pesän myskisalvian alle. |
 |
| Lettuce goes wild this time of year. Näihin aikoihin lehtisalaatti villiintyy. |
 |
| Foxglove. I was told not to prepare digitalis by myself. Sormustinkukka. En kuulemma saa kokeilla digitaliksen valmistusta. |
 |
| Chickweed. It's a wonder herb and I've got a field full of it. Pihatähtimö eli vesiheinä. Se on ihmeyrtti ja mulla on sitä kuin pellossa. |
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| I'm afraid carrots will need some help soon. Aivan kuin porkkanat tarvitsisivat apua. |
12 toukokuuta 2012
Welcome, dandelions!
The first dandelions are rising their wrinkled heads. When I approach my vegetable garden in May, I sigh in deep despair when I see dandelions, persistently sprouting everywhere and apparently planning to occupy all the carefully nurtured, fertile soil. Like this very individual. She's bound to die.
But, outside my tiny vegetable patch, I love them. Their leaves are excellent salad and tasty in soups, and they clean your liver when drunk as infusion. Dandelion roots I am to thank for dissolving my gallstones. For real. They should be gathered either in early spring or late autumn, cleaned, chopped and dried. For two weeks you drink a big pot of dandelion root tea the first thing in the morning—preferably with dandelion leaves, calendula, yarrow, peppermint and nettle—and don't eat for an hour or two afterwards. Dandelion root increases the amount of gall and slowly helps you to rid yourself of the stones.
Dandelion flowers, again, have this awesome, honey-like taste. They can be used in salads, but as they are usually full of those tiny black insects, they lose their shape and prettiness before you manage to get rid of the bugs. That doesn't matter, though, when you brew sima, a Finnish spring mead, as you can give the bugs hours to leave the flowers (if you stir the flowers once in a while, they evacuate themselves faster). Recommended to do outside, though.
Dandelion mead
2,5 l dandelions
5 l water
1 dl molasses
4 1/2 dl sugar
1 lemon
1/4 tsp yeast
In bottles
1/2 tsp sugar
4-5 raisins
Gather dandelion flowers when it's sunny (otherwise they tend to be half closed). After removing the bugs, bring flowers and water to boil and let simmer for 15 minutes. Add molasses, sugar and rinsed and sliced lemon. Let it cool until handwarm and add the yeast. Ferment for approximately 24 hours (that is, just leave it to be). Sieve and bottle: add a dash of sugar and a few raisins on the bottom of the bottle and then pour the liquid over them. Put the bottles in a fridge. Your mead is ready when the raisins rise to the surface.
But, outside my tiny vegetable patch, I love them. Their leaves are excellent salad and tasty in soups, and they clean your liver when drunk as infusion. Dandelion roots I am to thank for dissolving my gallstones. For real. They should be gathered either in early spring or late autumn, cleaned, chopped and dried. For two weeks you drink a big pot of dandelion root tea the first thing in the morning—preferably with dandelion leaves, calendula, yarrow, peppermint and nettle—and don't eat for an hour or two afterwards. Dandelion root increases the amount of gall and slowly helps you to rid yourself of the stones.
 |
| And they taste even worse than they look. |
Dandelion flowers, again, have this awesome, honey-like taste. They can be used in salads, but as they are usually full of those tiny black insects, they lose their shape and prettiness before you manage to get rid of the bugs. That doesn't matter, though, when you brew sima, a Finnish spring mead, as you can give the bugs hours to leave the flowers (if you stir the flowers once in a while, they evacuate themselves faster). Recommended to do outside, though.
Dandelion mead
2,5 l dandelions
5 l water
1 dl molasses
4 1/2 dl sugar
1 lemon
1/4 tsp yeast
In bottles
1/2 tsp sugar
4-5 raisins
Gather dandelion flowers when it's sunny (otherwise they tend to be half closed). After removing the bugs, bring flowers and water to boil and let simmer for 15 minutes. Add molasses, sugar and rinsed and sliced lemon. Let it cool until handwarm and add the yeast. Ferment for approximately 24 hours (that is, just leave it to be). Sieve and bottle: add a dash of sugar and a few raisins on the bottom of the bottle and then pour the liquid over them. Put the bottles in a fridge. Your mead is ready when the raisins rise to the surface.
02 huhtikuuta 2012
Self-admiration and spice
I honestly feel that all of my guests should admire my collection of spices. They should express their awe of both variety and quality and ask interested questions. This applies especially for couchsurfers, when I show them where they can find everything they might need during their stay. I imagine an ideal discussion would go approximately like this:
'And if you should need any spices, you find them here', I say.
'How much spices you've got!' goes the couchsurfer, with an expression of astonishment.
'Oh, I'm afraid it's not so much', I say modestly, pointing out some vital shortcoming.
'But such good quality too!' continues the awed couchsurfer, ignoring my remark.
I imagine s/he would also like to go through all the tiny jars, bursting sometimes with excitement commenting 'organic galangal!', 'organic French rosemary!' or 'oh my god, you even have organic ramsons and Cambodian black pepper!', nodding vigorously to him/herself.
I also expect to hear something about the way sage behaves when you try to pour it from a jar or a box, a little like a flock of sheep would fall from a cliff to the sea; or, if not that, at least something about the coarseness of Korean chili on the skin of your fingers. This happens quite rarely, however. Mostly they just nod without any interest and probably with no plans of cooking. Apparently they do not realize they could just prepare a raw cocoa drink with ground cardamon, clove, dry ginger and some oat milk, or spice up their sandwiches with green pepper and basil. Poor people.
But as I am left alone to admire my spiceshelf, I don't think I have much else to do than to list them. Spices and herbs are also one of my favourite souvenirs, and I like to remember where they come from.
Things I have on my spice shelves
- algae, from Portugal
- basil, organic
- bay leaves, whole
- black pepper, organic, ground
- black pepper, Cambodian, whole,
got from a friend met accidentally in a hostel in Saigon
- capsicum, organic, ground
- cardamon, organic, ground
- cardamon, green, whole
- chili, Korean, roughly ground, bought in London
- chives, from France
- cloves, ground
- cloves, whole
- coriander, ground
- cumin, ground
- curry, Panang style, paste
- fennel, whole
- fenugreek, organic, whole
- galangal, ground, from France
- ginger, organic, ground
- green pepper, from France
- lemongrass, organic
- mustard seeds, yellow
- oregano, from France
- parsley, organic
- pili-pili, ground, from France
- piri-piri, sauce, a souvenir from Madeira
- ramsons, organic, from France
- rosemary, organic, from France
- sage, organic
- salt, gray sea salt, from France
- Sichuan pepper, whole
- soybean paste, Korean
- star anis, whole
- thyme, grown by myself in Estonia
- turmeric, ground
- vanilla, from France
- wasabi, paste
- white pepper, from France
Spices I need to get
- some good quality Indian or Thai kind of chili
- fennel, ground (I'm not exactly sure what for but I feel I should have it)
- fenugreek, ground (it's difficult to grind it smooth enough by yourself)
- nutmeg, ground (for soups and baking)
- vanilla, powdered
- wasabi, powdered
Observations. First, spices I've been using most lately are, quite curiously, ground cardamon and rosemary. Second, listing your spices is just what one should do on April 2nd when it's [add bad words here] SNOWING.
'And if you should need any spices, you find them here', I say.
'How much spices you've got!' goes the couchsurfer, with an expression of astonishment.
'Oh, I'm afraid it's not so much', I say modestly, pointing out some vital shortcoming.
'But such good quality too!' continues the awed couchsurfer, ignoring my remark.
I imagine s/he would also like to go through all the tiny jars, bursting sometimes with excitement commenting 'organic galangal!', 'organic French rosemary!' or 'oh my god, you even have organic ramsons and Cambodian black pepper!', nodding vigorously to him/herself.
I also expect to hear something about the way sage behaves when you try to pour it from a jar or a box, a little like a flock of sheep would fall from a cliff to the sea; or, if not that, at least something about the coarseness of Korean chili on the skin of your fingers. This happens quite rarely, however. Mostly they just nod without any interest and probably with no plans of cooking. Apparently they do not realize they could just prepare a raw cocoa drink with ground cardamon, clove, dry ginger and some oat milk, or spice up their sandwiches with green pepper and basil. Poor people.
But as I am left alone to admire my spiceshelf, I don't think I have much else to do than to list them. Spices and herbs are also one of my favourite souvenirs, and I like to remember where they come from.
Things I have on my spice shelves
- algae, from Portugal
- basil, organic
- bay leaves, whole
- black pepper, organic, ground
- black pepper, Cambodian, whole,
got from a friend met accidentally in a hostel in Saigon
- capsicum, organic, ground
- cardamon, organic, ground
- cardamon, green, whole
- chili, Korean, roughly ground, bought in London
- chives, from France
- cloves, ground
- cloves, whole
- coriander, ground
- cumin, ground
- curry, Panang style, paste
- fennel, whole
- fenugreek, organic, whole
- galangal, ground, from France
- ginger, organic, ground
- green pepper, from France
- lemongrass, organic
- mustard seeds, yellow
- oregano, from France
- parsley, organic
- pili-pili, ground, from France
- piri-piri, sauce, a souvenir from Madeira
- ramsons, organic, from France
- rosemary, organic, from France
- sage, organic
- salt, gray sea salt, from France
- Sichuan pepper, whole
- soybean paste, Korean
- star anis, whole
- thyme, grown by myself in Estonia
- turmeric, ground
- vanilla, from France
- wasabi, paste
- white pepper, from France
Spices I need to get
- some good quality Indian or Thai kind of chili
- fennel, ground (I'm not exactly sure what for but I feel I should have it)
- fenugreek, ground (it's difficult to grind it smooth enough by yourself)
- nutmeg, ground (for soups and baking)
- vanilla, powdered
- wasabi, powdered
Observations. First, spices I've been using most lately are, quite curiously, ground cardamon and rosemary. Second, listing your spices is just what one should do on April 2nd when it's [add bad words here] SNOWING.
 |
| From left: chives, pili-pili, cardamon, rosemary, sage, cloves, piri-piri, Sichuan pepper, oregano, ramsons, black pepper, green pepper, algae, mustard, white pepper, fenugreek, coriander |
12 maaliskuuta 2012
Herbal plans for the garden
I thought the list of herbs that I am going to grow next summer would be interesting, but I realize now that it looks more like a view from someone's spice shelf. A list of herbs I am going to collect would probably be more fun, but I've not made it yet.
- basil: sweet basil, lime basil, mammoth basil, red rubin basil
- calendula: "Double Orange King" is supposed to have the best medical effects
- chamomile: common; I've not been able to find seeds of Roman chamomile
- coriander, Asian
- dill
- horehound
- lemon balm
- lemon verbena, if I'll be able to find seeds
- mint: at least peppermint and spearmint; Dalmatian mint if I can find a sapling
- oregano, Greek
- parsley
- ramsons! moles hate it and I love it
- rosemary
- sage, common and clary
- thyme, common and wild
- valerian
There has to be something I've not thought of. What is it?
As for anything else, I can hardly grow anything that ripens late, as I will probably be leaving to Japan before I can enjoy it. I've ordered seeds of leafy goosefoot and butternut squash, but as Finland is quite uncivilized when it comes to squashes and pumpkins, it's impossible to find them in stores ̶ so, I will probably have to grow some more myself. And then of course spinach, lettuce, zuccini, sunflowers and hops. And I hope I will be able to find saplings of black elder and blackberries, too.
- basil: sweet basil, lime basil, mammoth basil, red rubin basil
- calendula: "Double Orange King" is supposed to have the best medical effects
- chamomile: common; I've not been able to find seeds of Roman chamomile
- coriander, Asian
- dill
- horehound
- lemon balm
- lemon verbena, if I'll be able to find seeds
- mint: at least peppermint and spearmint; Dalmatian mint if I can find a sapling
- oregano, Greek
- parsley
- ramsons! moles hate it and I love it
- rosemary
- sage, common and clary
- thyme, common and wild
- valerian
There has to be something I've not thought of. What is it?
As for anything else, I can hardly grow anything that ripens late, as I will probably be leaving to Japan before I can enjoy it. I've ordered seeds of leafy goosefoot and butternut squash, but as Finland is quite uncivilized when it comes to squashes and pumpkins, it's impossible to find them in stores ̶ so, I will probably have to grow some more myself. And then of course spinach, lettuce, zuccini, sunflowers and hops. And I hope I will be able to find saplings of black elder and blackberries, too.
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| Greek oregano sapling |
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