iii Of Weeds and Weans Joseph Nolan

Spring buds, summer flowers

Joseph Nolan

It’s flower season in Scotland, and really, who doesn’t love flowers? On a recent sunny day, sitting outside munching flowers with my little Garden Spright took me back some decades, to sunny days munching flowers in the school’s playing fields with my friends. It was an experience that needed sharing. So, this month we are talking flowers and how to enjoy them with your own garden sprights. Many of the flowers out just now are edible. They are tasty, and can be eaten as is, or easily made into some kind of food. These are all very wellknown plants, and exceptionally easy to identify— but please make absolutely sure that you have identified your flower correctly before continuing. My personal test is: given the stakes, am I confident enough in my own judgment to feed this to my child? And pause a moment to consider, because ‘I’m sure it will be fine’ doesn’t cut it here. Look it up if you have the merest hint of doubt.

Honeysuckle In the school’s playing fields where we had recess when I was a boy, there was a section of fence covered by a twining, winding, unkempt clump of Lonicera ssp. (Honeysuckle), which sported white and orange flowers. Several of us would stand together, carefully picking the flowers and tasting the nectar, like something borrowed from the bees, or fairyland. Honeysuckle wine is traditional but, really, the best way to enjoy the flavour must be straight off the plant. Stick to the flowers though, because the rest of it— leaves, stems, berries —contains detergent-like saponins that will cause mouth irritation, vomiting, and diarrhoea. Don’t let that put you off, though: The Potato (Solanum tuberosum) is a relative of the lethal Atropa belladonna (Deadly Nightshade); Apple pips (Malus domestica) contain a surprising quantity of cyanide, and Mango trees (Mangifera indica) share the potential irritant qualities of their close relative Toxicodendron radicans (Poison Ivy). Every Rose must have its thorns.

For Honeysuckle, this is the way I know to do it: Carefully pick a wholesome looking flower (best if you can get the little nub of green still attached to the bottom of the long corolla). Very carefully—and little fingers are better for this —nip the bottom of the corolla with your fingernail, so the green nub comes away but remains attached to pistil. (If you happen to nip the bottom completely off the corolla, you can try to nip it again with some possibility of success, or just suck the nectar through anyway. Not totally satisfactory, but it will do.) The pistil is the long, thin, white string running through the corolla, from the green nub up through the tube, terminating in a tiny bulbous end about the size of a poppyseed. Next, gently pull the green nub, drawing the pistil through the corolla so it collects the nectar inside the narrow tube. When the pistil pulls through, there should be a small drop of nectar clinging to the end. This is the object of the exercise. Put the string carefully in your mouth to get the liquid. Savour. Then, gently suck

through the corolla to be sure you have got it all, discard the flower, and repeat until the teacher calls you back inside. The nectar of orange flowers is more aromatic, and while the flower itself tastes fine, the nectar is its chief virtue. Luckily, they flower prodigiously for quite a while, so you will have time to perfect your technique.

Borage Borago officinalis (Borage) is a traditional garden plant, often grown for the benefit of the buzzing insects that love it so much. The plant itself is rather coarse and hairy, and in books written by people who have never tried them, the leaves are much touted as a ‘cucumber note’ to add to salads. My advice is don’t: they are hairy, although they do taste a bit of cucumber. A tea made of the fresh or dried leaves, though, is excellent for helping the lungs to recover from illness, and good for the lingering melancholy of people who have been ill for a while. But let’s turn our attention away from the hairy leaves and towards the very smart-looking blue flowers, with their black and white centres. While they don’t taste of much, they are so beautiful and unusual that they are a must in midsummer drinks and salads and strewn over everything from cakes to risotto. Freeze them into ice cubes or lollies, or use them in ‘stained glass’ hard candies. You sometimes find varieties showing white, lavender, pink, or purple flowers. After a few seasons you will get plants that flower in multiple colours for, once there is Borage in your garden, it is there to stay.

Gorse While it is edging towards the end of flowering, Ulex europaeus/ U. gallii/ U. minor (Gorse), with its glorious, yellow, coconut-scented flowers, is still golden on the hillsides, and scatterings of flowers can be found throughout the year as each species flowers at its own time. Again, Gorse wine is traditional, although it needs at least a year’s maturation before drinking. The beautiful pea-like flowers can be used in similar ways to those of Borage; for decorating sweets, savouries, and beverages. I think they are at their best as a sauce to the season, taken whilst walking amongst the bushes. On account of the truly vicious spikes, picking the flowers can be hazardous, so be sure to help little ones.

Rose Rosa ssp. (Rose) gets a look in every month, but one can hardly discuss edible flowers without it. All Roses are edible, although the strength of the taste is in the fragrance. While R. damascena, (The Apothecary’s Rose), is a dark pink, powerfully fragranced Rose, traditionally used for medicinal purposes, as the name suggests, there are many beautifully scented varieties that will serve just as well for your taste buds. Roses can be used in all the ways that Borage can, as well as dried for a fragrant tea, used in crafts, sewn into small pillows, used as potpourri, or even made into black rose beads that will hold their scent for a century. A particularly wonderful way to use them is to make a glycerite— you can use mild honey instead —to keep on hand for emotional upsets. A home-made remedy like this a great thing for children to use, helping them regulate their emotions. And it works on parents too. Another thing about Roses is that you don’t need to take the flowers. Wait until the flowers just start to wilt and the petals become loose, and gently pull them off. This way, you will be able to come back in a couple of months for the hips, to make another delightful medicine. The essential oil of Roses is uniquely stable, so even as the flower fades, the scent does not degrade. Like so many of these other flowers, the petals are wonderful little pleasures popped into the mouth as you walk by. I think they’re better if you don't chew them, but see what you think…

Medicinal flowers If edible flowers are tasty, medicinal ones are perhaps less so, but they are still beautiful. Some have mild or sweet riffs on familiar plant fragrances, and could be deemed medicinal because they come from medicinal plants. Rosmarinus officinalis (Rosemary) is one example; the Elizabethans preserved the flowers by sugaring or pickling in sweetened vinegar, bringing them out of the store cupboard to brighten the long, grim season of

salt beef and cabbages. You sugar flowers by painting them with egg white and then dusting with sugar, or dipping them into syrup and then air drying. Done by amateurs, they generally do not hold their shapes well, but the flavour is still held by the sugar, and they are delicious. Most herb flowers do well with the same treatment— Salvia officinalis (Sage), Lavandula angustifolia (Lavender), Mentha ssp. (Mint), Melissa officinalis (Lemon Balm), etc. —and they can be used medicinally for the same purposes as you might use the leaves. Dried, they look so pretty in tea.

Daisies You can eat Bellis perennis (Daisy, Bruisewort), but there isn’t a great deal to recommend doing so. Better to use the cheery little white and yellow flowers, often edged with magenta, as decorations atop cakes and other show dishes, or sprinkle the petals through summer salads. Alternatively, you can make Bruisewortinfused oil, used for similar purposes as you might employ the better-known and— as Culpeper would have it —far-fetched and rather dearly-bought, Arnica montana (Arnica). Infused oils are very easy to make at home, and provide a suitable activity for middle childhood. All you need is a bain-marie filled with your flowers and oil, on a very, very low heat. Olive works well for Bruisewort, and other flowers. Use just enough oil so that the flowers are covered but not drowned, and leave them for a few hours, with occasional checking, until they are fairly crisp. Then strain through a fine mesh (I use a tea strainer) or a paper coffee filter, pour your oil into a clean bottle and label. Either use it to make a balm, add to a cream, or use as is for bumps and bruises.

Lovely flowers There are some flowers that are solely for looking at. One might slander them with ugly words like ‘toxic’ and ‘poisonous’, but let us instead say that they have neither culinary nor medicinal use, and are for admiring. Ranunculus repens (Creeping Buttercup) falls into this category, profuse as it is just now in gardens, lawns, parks, and anywhere else there is a patch of earth to grow in. Digitalis ssp. (Foxglove) is another, despite its adorable little fox’s glove flowers and eye-catching colours. Although Digitalis does have medicinal use, it is a remedy to be employed only in extremis and by those already skilled in its use. Just coming into flower is a third member of the club, Aconitum napellus (Monkshood, Wolfsbane), popular in gardens for its unusually-shaped, royal purple flowers, lacy leaves, and attractive height. Admire, and leave this one well alone. Hyacinthoides ssp. (Bluebells), though finished now, are also for enjoying with our eyes only; like these other plants, they have neither medicinal nor culinary uses, but raise the spirits, nonetheless.

Happy herbing!