I’ve been trying to savour experiences lately and grasp little opportunities for adventure. Going carless (no, not careless autocorrect) at the beginning of last year helped, as our adventures became centred around trains and bikes like when we were overseas. Hiring a GoGet is a really exciting treat, now we appreciate the speed of four wheels. Those 170 life changing days on foreign soil have been hard to shake, ordinary days seemed like pale cardboard cutouts when we were grounded again. Perhaps I’m only truly appreciative of the pleasures of ‘grounded’ now, years later, writing this standing in my full garden bathed in morning sun, with just a hint of the bite 34 degrees will bring.
The Yurt Alpine Retreat
A recent gift of a night in a yurt in the King Valley was a visceral return to my year of travelling. I lay in an exotically draped bed infused with incense, door open on blue skies and a vista dropping onto treed valleys with mountains beyond. It was new Mexico, it was Utah, Arizona, Boulder and Lake Tahoe. Ah wide open spaces how I missed you. A delicious slideshow of experience called up in a moment of expansion.
So, with a clear head, free of the dull buzz of worry and to do lists, I had time and energy to dabble in watercolours again. Although painting a banana was perhaps an incongruous choice, mountain landscapes would be too overwhelming to render. Hooray for the everyday juxtaposed against the divine. That is the essence of the place. An exotic Mongolian yurt alpine retreat adjacent to a tin shed outhouse with a poem, in a style best described as “Aussie bush humour” on the door. Vineyards sparkling in the afternoon light, grown wild and neglected as the farmers aged. Slightly spooky, wandering through the endless rows at dusk stumbling upon nettles and thistles and old bones. What a full body tingling experience! The exotic only 3 hours from home, what a thrill.
Where do you find the spark of adventure close to home?
This scorcher of a summer’s day has sent me scuttling into my cool, dark blogging cave. The sweet, subtlety floral tang of elderflower cordial is on my lips, a perfect pairing with a 35C day.
Forever the victim of romantic rather than practical gardening notions I bought an elderberry in my first year of gardening. It soared skywards, exulting in the chicken yard muck it was rooted in. Three years passed and I never got around to doing anything with the flowers, I moved house with a broken elderberry branch in hand and just sort of stuck pieces of it in the ground. It really suckers like crazy so I was quietly hopeful that something would strike; the result was a mini elderberry forest outside my bathroom window. It is really a delightful plant for a capricious gardener, who flits from whim to whim and neglects everything but the latest obsession (which happens to be a mini lily pond).
My southern elderberry grove has thrived in shade with only the water that dribbles out of the tap. This summer its leaves are tickling the eaves and with base in the shade and tops soaking up the sun it seems to be taller each time I look at it. Its shallow, “non-threatening root system” and low water demand make it a lower risk for planting near the house. It has also thrived in full sun in the food forest when planted in the cooler months. (Not much has relished a high summer planting in full sun.) A fun fact about elderberries is that they are pollinated by flies, so I guess flies aren’t completely useless then. A less fun fact is that the leaves, stalks and stems contain a toxin called sambunigrin, that’s why a fork is part of my utensils list of this recipe. Intrigued? Read on!
Recipe
Makes 2 Litres (2.75 passata bottles full)
Takes 24 hours
25 Elderflower heads
Peel of 3 lemons + 1 orange
Juice of 3 lemons + 1 orange
1 kg sugar
1 tsp citric acid (optional – Citric acid is a preservative so if you are drinking within 2 weeks and keeping refrigerated it is unnecessary)
1.5 Litres of boiling water
My elderflowers are heavy with blossoms and all the trendiest cafes are serving elderflower soda, seems like a good time to try my hand at making my own. It turned out to be fairly easy, but you need to leave the flowers steeping overnight so make sure you give yourself plenty of time. Goes delightfully well with Tortilla de Patatas on a hot summer’s night. I’ve also added it to kombuca for some added fizz.
Elderflowers are antibacterial, antiviral and anticatarral, so with a little luck it will balance out that delicious kilo of sugar. When fighting a cold elderflower tea with a spoon full of honey might be a better medicine.
Your kitchen kit
For harvesting (Basket, Secateurs, Newspaper, Fork)
For infusing (Large bowl, Potato peeler, Sharp knife, Chopping board, Tea towel, Lemon squeezer, Jar (for citrus juice),
For straining (Large strainer, Cheesecloth/muslin, Springform cake tin (optional) – I used this to prop up the strainer while the syrup dripped through as my saucepan was shallow, Tea spoon)
For cooking (Saucepan, Wooden spoon)
For Bottling (Ladle, Sterilised bottles for cordial – I wash with soapy water, put in cool oven on top of tea towel and turn up heat to 150C. When they are dry I turn off oven and leave warm until ready for bottling.)
Pick elderflowers that have just opened as they will have the most pollen. If there are still a few unopened buds you will know they are fresh.If you sniff them they should have a pleasant aroma. A flower that smells of bitter decay will make a drink only Tim Burton would enjoy.Cut flowers on a warm, dry day as rain washes away the pollen that adds the flavour to the syrup.
Spread on paper to allow bugs to leave flowers. You don’t want to wash the flowers.
Bugs start leaving the flowers as soon as they are picked to find a happier home. In 1 hour most of them should have departed.
Stalks are bitter so roughly remove blossoms with a fork.
Pollen adds that floral flavour.
Stalks contain toxins, but many people skip this step and have come to no harm.
Lemons contain citric acid (preservative) and ascorbic acid (vitamin C)Peel citrus thinly as white pith will make it bitter. You can grate the rind as well, but I find peeling easier. The juice will be added the next day so pour it into a jar and refrigerate.Add peels to bowl of flowers.Ad 1.5L boiling water. Don’t be alarmed if the flowers turn brown, it won’t affect the flavour. Cover with a tea towel and leave it to infuse overnight.Next day it went quite brown, on top where the flowers weren’t fully submerged.Scald your cheesecloth/muslin by placing in saucepan of water and bringing to the boil to sterilise it even if new. I placed it in my strainer as it boiled to sterilise that too.
Place strainer over saucepan and drape muslin over the edges. My saucepan was quite shallow so I propped the strainer up with a cake tin.
Strain the infused elderflower liquid through muslin.
Press down with a ladle to squeeze out extra liquid. Leave for 15 minutes to drip through.Cover with a plate while liquid drips through the muslin to protect from flies.
Add sugar which is also a preservative which prevents spoilage of foods, but more importantly serve to inhibit or prevent growth of food-borne pathogen.
Add citric acid. 1 teaspoon powdered Citric Acid is equivalent to ¼ cup lemon juice.
Add lemon and orange juice.
Simmer saucepan on medium heat stirring to dissolve sugar.
Poor hot syrup into still hot sterilised bottles and screw on sterilised lids. Bottle must be warm or they will break with sudden change in temperature. As they cool the lids will seal as the pressure changes.
Elderflower punch – cordial, sparkling mineral water, passionfruit pulp, apple slices and ice.
I hope you try this at home and enjoy on a balmy evening. Do you have any other recipes that are perfect for a hot day? Let me know in the comments below.
True Spring and sleepy winter buds have burst open in a puff of pollen.
I may have been knocked off my feet with a sneaky spring cold, but this hasn’t dampened by enthusiasm for the season. Although I’m itching to transplant my seedlings, this forced time of rest and reflection isn’t so bad when there is a seat in the sun and so much to observe in just one square metre. Our garden is host to a delightful barter of nectar for aphid control with a mass of hoverflies. In the food forest the air is laden with apple blossom petals falling in snowy drifts and the trees are alive with the buzzing of bees. The Melbourne Wurundjeri calendar has 6 seasons and this is one of plenty.
Eyes itchy with pollen haven’t ruined my spring bike rides, the ravenous awakening of snails and slugs are a challenge rather than a cause of despair. Warmer mornings and stepping out of the office into sunlit evenings are indeed a recipe for sparkly eyes and spirits. Even my homemade kombucha is thrilled, its weak winter fizz substituted with an almost volcanic effervescence. My fragile winter attitude has been composted.
What is really exciting is that all those flowers promise not only momentary fragrance and beauty but delicious fruit. It’s a beginning that is not only glorious for what it is but what it will be. So I decided to try and keep that feeling going all year. The challenge? A year of flowers in the edible garden. The end game is to have as much colour and joy as I can coax into life in winter as I can. The rules only flowers from a plant that is at least partly edible, bonus points if the flowers can be eaten. I’ll try and think of some recipes to post.
I’m starting with the easiest season, it’s going to get harder from here on out so I better start planning for the oven of summer and darkness of winter. Any suggestions for winter flowers or flowery treats would be awesome guys.
Fruit & vegetable flowers
Some veg flowers are particularly surprising such as the bright red rhubarb buds and I always allow a few radishes to go to seed as their masses of pink or white flowers are a delight.
If you struggle with pests like aphids you might try letting a few of your affected vegetables go to seed. Their nectar will attract beneficial insects which will lay their eggs on nearby plants. If all goes to plan their carnivorous larvae will take care of the pests.
Checkout those fabulous stripey pepino flowers! Which one is your favourite?
PepinoKale flowerRhubarb flowerBlackberryTomatoStrawberryBlueberryCeleryBroccoliElderflowerMizunaMandarinLemonOnionNative raspberryOrangeRadishRed pak choySilvanberrySorrel
Borage blue and whiteScented pelargoniumSantolinaRed clover and blue borageIris germanica (orris root)Lawn daisiesPineapple sageCatmint whiteBorage and brassicaLavender and santolinaFrench lavenderDayliliesComfreyBorage and red cloverGreen santolina and curry plantSage & comfreyDyer’s woad
On a sun soaked autumn day we visited Simon Rickard’s Open Garden.
The thrill of inspiration is always on my radar, whether it be a self-sown masterpiece or a lovely cultivated combination. Nature and man both have enough lessons to pack my head full to buzzing and I forgot how great it is to blog it out. Recording and unraveling my thoughts and sharing these beautiful places with you.
So there is nowhere better to start than a quiet little street in Trentham, bursting with produce and an ornamental walk that would have impressionists reaching for their brushes. Simon Rickard, (ex-Digger’s Club head gardener, author of Heirloom Vegetables and modern bassoonist), with his curled mustache and suspenders could have stepped straight out of Portlandia’s song Dream of the 1890s. It takes panache and swagger to carry of a Mo that ornate and I think Simon just made gardening a little bit cooler.
The arbitrary nature of what humans deem beautiful or not must somehow connect back to our primitive brain and its associations with nature. Is this curving walk through soft swaying stems in mauves, greens and pinks an echo of a safe meadow where we could lay down a head for a nap?
Simon certainly has perfected the art of the cultivated wild. No doubt each plant has been carefully selected and situated but the overall appearance is effortless.
Pruning timed expertly before each plant burst into autumn colour so they are compact but not topiaries. When I started the Flemington Food Forest I thought I could just let things take their natural form, but found in the limited space some plants were too unruly and I had to rescue their neighbours from imminent smothering. He also allows big blocks of colour and plant. It’s hard when you begin gardening not to plant things to close together, after all they are tiny when they go in. Careful construction of a perennial armature filled in with mulch, annuals and groundcovers seems like it would save time in plant wrangling in the future.
Simon’s garden plot is surrounded by a post and wire fence which is a direction we are trying to head in at the Norfolk Terrace Rehabilitation garden. It’s so lovely to see that vertical space protecting as well as delineating the vegetable plot. The evergreen edible hedge to the west with a row of sunflowers behind is where we got our first glimpse of Simon, a hipster cowboy with bewitched older ladies in tow. To the north thornless cane berries reached taller than I had ever seen before and the other compass points espaliered deciduous fruit trees.
What’s your favourite part of Simon’s garden? Which private or public gardens inspire you?
The veggie beds themselves were overflowing with produce, laid out in more of the European style rows than the riot of companion planting I’m use to. He does mix onions and carrots, but even those are in neat little groves. There is something nice about a lovely straight row of lettuces, but with chicken’s like mine scattering the tastier leafies is the only way they can survive hiding behind spring onions and lavender. A fence of juicy red apples, pumpkin’s as big as your head and teepees of beans… what an eden! It’s a lovely reminder, nay reinforcement that edible gardens can have a lush sort of beauty that can hold its own against any ornamental.
