Diente de Leon Oxymel, Or How To Preserve Spring

Dandelions and liquid in a Mason jar
Teeth of the lion, indeed.

Can we talk about sunshine in a jar?

How strange and unusual this spring has been, not only for the coronavirus, but also for the weather which is one day bluest skies and sunny sunshine and the next blowing snow flurries and plant pots off decks with gusty winds bringing cold down from the still-frozen north?

Can we talk about how this weather is both a mirror and a portent of my state of mind and its wild fluctuations? And how a vata-person such as myself is blown about in this swirling cacophony of informationweatherfearanxietyunknowing?

And what can I do with myself to feel grounded and connected and not so wildly out-of-control when bread baking is not an option (gluten-free bread baking being more frustration than reward)?

Simple.

Go directly to the earth.

Pick sunny dandelion flowers, the diente de leon.

Gently remove ants and other detritus, then pack into a clean, comforting, always-constant Mason jar.

Add about 1/3 cup of raw honey.

Add 2/3 cups apple cider vinegar (or to cover).

Label, shake gently, then tuck into a dark cabinet for six weeks, shaking every now and again.

Eventually, strain the flowers out and put into a dark glass bottle (I will have plenty of dark glass bottles when this is all over, seeing as how I am gulping down CBD by the barrel, just to remain steady).

This delicious, sour-sweet syrupy golden loveliness is an oxymel. The name comes from the Latin oxmeli, meaning “acid” and “honey.” Using dandelions, the benefits of an oxymel include helping with digestion and removing sluggishness from the body. Dandelion contains vitamins A and C, plus choline, which stimulates the liver, the yin organ of spring.

A sluggish liver is normal in spring, after cold, dry winter months, and a dandelion oxymel can help wake it up.

Add to tea, use in cocktails, or make a bitter greens spring salad (think arugula, sliced apples, and chickpeas, dressed with plenty of olive oil and dandelion oxymel to taste).

My new strategy in all weathers: proceed directly to the earth and use what is being offered.

What’s your strategy? How are you making it through?

Be well. Love each other. Wash your hands.

 

 

Rosemary Tincture

Small jar filled with chopped rosemary and whiskey sits on a wooden cutting board in front of a bottle of Maryland Club whiskey and a brick wall.
Rosemary is the most best, and you can, too!

Oh, nothing to see here. Just whipping up some rosemary tincture.

It’s easy: take lots of fresh rosemary (enough to pack the vessel of your choice – I used a squatty 1/2 pint jar), chop roughly, pack said vessel, and cover with booze that is at least 80 proof (I used 95 proof Maryland Club whiskey because YAY, MARYLAND, and also it’s what I had to use up).

Place cap on vessel and store in dark, quiet place. Intrude every other day or so to give it a shake.

Do this for two to four weeks. Then you could strain the tincture and repeat with more fresh rosemary for a sort-of-cheating double tincture, or you could strain and store forever in a dark glass bottle, preferably with a dropper.

So what the hell is rosemary tincture good for? Besides this delicious cocktail from the effervescent Jane Danger?

Uses up fresh rosemary that would otherwise go to waste, eases headache and indigestion, has antioxidant properties, enhances memory, may fight cancer, and is an antioxidant.

Your dose may vary. Some people say that for headache, take a full dropper (or a teaspoon), wait 30 minutes, and repeat if you still have a headache.

Yes, pregnant women can take this, but as always, use your brainpan and check with your doctor if you aren’t sure about taking herbal tinctures, especially the kind you made yourself.

I am looking forward to building more of an herbal medicine chest this year. Any suggestions?