I spent the first five years of my life wandering 40 off-grid acres my parents bought in the remote corner of northeastern Washington Sate. They built a cabin in a wild, yet homey little valley tucked into an aspen grove at the base of a rocky cliff that tumbled from a panorama of mountains dotted with evergreen stands. Foggy mornings, snowy winters, and dusty summer days heavy with the musk of dry pine needles, strawberries and wildflowers marked my memory. One of those flowers was yarrow.
A member of the aster family (Asteraceae), yarrow (Achillea millefolium) is an herbaceous perennial native to North America, Central America, the Middle East, Europe and Asia that grows throughout temperate and boreal regions of the world: in meadows, pastures and along roadsides. Yarrow has been used from at least the time of the ancient Greeks and Egyptians—fossils of yarrow have been found in 60,000-year-old Neanderthal burial sites, identifiable by its pollen.
My mom loved plants, and my uncle recently gave me an old Washington wildflower book she had left behind at their neighboring summer cabin. I have a vague memory of her telling me about yarrow, and how you can rub it onto your skin to repel mosquitoes. As some readers may know, she was diagnosed with cancer not long after we left the homestead, and died when I was 11. This trauma divided my life and I've spent the majority of my adulthood healing from it.
My teens were pure chaos, my twenties were spent seeking, and in my thirties I finally got into therapy. That's when I began finding a meaningful path forward and purpose in life, thanks to getting into gardening and horticulture, then herbalism. It wasn't until 39 that I connected with Jungian psychology and began shadow work. And it was in returning to Washington the summers of 2019-21 and exploring my childhood landscape that yarrow spoke to me, and I rediscovered my inner child.
After being diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder in 2022, I decided to get disciplined and start a daily meditation practice. Sometimes it really is the simplest things that work. Meditation helped me ground down into my core values, and I chose to fully move back to Washington when given the opportunity. However, I've learned that healing isn't linear, and I struggle with imposter syndrome big time. So, as I was researching yarrow further for this blog post, I was struck by the plant's connection with the wounded healer archetype.
Yarrow’s genus comes from the Greek warrior, Achilles. According to the legend, Achilles’ mother bathed him in yarrow tea at birth to make him invincible, but (spoiler alert) was holding him by the heel while she dunked him. Achilles often used yarrow on the battlefield to staunch the wounds of his soldiers, and lamented not having it at the time of his famed mortal wounding. In The Iliad, Homer writes that Achilles learned of the plant's healing properties from his tutor, Chiron.
Son of Titan Kronos and Oceanid Philyra, Chiron was abandoned for having been born a centaur. He was found and raised by Apollo, who taught him healing arts, music and prophecy, while Apollo's twin sister Artemis taught him archery and hunting. Centaurs were rumored to be wild and unruly, but Chiron grew to be wise and kind. He excelled in all fields and went on to shine his light by teaching others, including Achilles, Heracles, Jason and Asclepius, the god of medicine himself.
Emotionally wounded at birth, Chiron was also physically wounded later in life when he was accidentally struck by one of Heracles' arrows coated in Hydra's poisonous blood. The wound was painful and incurable, but because Chiron was immortal he couldn't die. He continued to roam the earth healing others. Thus he was fated to embody the paradox of a healer who could heal everyone but himself.
When he eventually wandered to the place of Prometheus undergoing his own eternal agony (another story), Chiron volunteered to give up his immortality in order to free him and was finally allowed to die. In return for his service and sacrifice, Zeus gave him a place among the stars as a constellation.
Rather than simply being a tale of martyrdom, this myth is a blueprint for how to use our own afflictions as a source of empathy. It is in sharing our vulnerability that we are able to help each other. In giving others what we most need, we can find inspiration and ultimately, our purpose. Like yarrow, we can stand tall, rooted firmly and tilting our faces toward the heavens, yet unfurl our tender arms with enough grace to hold space for the duality of existence.
Yarrow is perhaps best known for its wound healing properties, and was used in battle from the time of the ancient Greeks up until World War I. Its common names include woundwort, staunch weed, nosebleed and carpenter’s weed. No first aid kit is complete without yarrow. It is antibacterial, antiviral, anti-inflammatory, astringent, styptic and analgesic, making it ideal for preventing infection, reducing swelling and bruising, staunching bleeding and blunting pain in wounds. Energetically, it can be warming or cooling due to its ability to regulate the flow of blood through a variety of mechanisms. It is a main ingredient in our Heal salve.
Growing up to three feet tall on a sturdy stem, with finely divided feathery and aromatic leaves becoming smaller toward the top, yarrow spreads by rhizomes. The white (and sometimes pink) flower heads, comprised of many small flowers, are flat clusters at the end of the stem. There are also cultivars of varying colors. Harvest yarrow flowers and leaves when plant is in full bloom, in the morning after the dew dries and before the sun's heat evaporates the lighter essential oils. Cut whole stems and hang upside down, away from sun and moisture to dry.
Yarrow has many more uses than I've mentioned here, and I look forward to working with its medicine more. For now, I just want to wrap things up by saying that Verdant Wild is very much an extension of who I am. It has been my guiding light and purpose for many years now, and while it evolves and grows with me, it has forged me as much as I have attempted to mold it. I'm grateful to be on this journey, learning so much about the reciprocal relationship between plants and human beings. Thanks for being here with me!
The Myth of Chiron, the Wounded Healer, Psychology Today
The Wounded Healer as Cultural Archetype, Purdue University
Yarrow Monograph, The Herbarium (membership required)
Yarrow: Myth, Magic, and Medicine, Rowan + Sage
]]>Warm winds blow, showers come and go (sometimes snow), birdsong cautiously builds to a chorus and hints of green begin to appear. Piecemeal signs of life carry moments of joy that bubble up from the monotony of a long, cold winter like tender shoots bursting through thawing muck and, with fertile hearts, we eagerly anticipate the dawn of spring.
The vernal (spring) equinox arrives on March 20th this year. For one day, the sun will be directly above the equator—the earth's axis will point neither toward or away from it—and the light and darkness will be equal. This only happens twice a year, on each equinox. The word equinox comes from the Latin “aequus,” meaning equal, and “nox,” meaning night.
In modern day Northern Hemisphere, the vernal equinox signals the start of spring, but in Neolithic Ireland it was the second festival of spring. This holiday, called Alban Eilir, is still celebrated by Druids there today. They gather at the ancient site of Loughcrew (above) each equinox to watch the rising sun illuminate the passages and chamber of Cairn T, bathing the center stone and its engraved sun symbols in golden light.
Alban Eilir is flanked by the festivals of Imbolc, marking the beginning of spring and Beltane, celebrating the transition into the fullness of summer. The Druids' symbolic plant for this holiday is the shamrock, which goes back beyond St. Patrick's use of it to the teaching of Awen (inspirational muse). Its three leaves can embody the concept of the Triple Goddess (maiden, mother and crone); the realms of land, sea and sky; or the interconnected aspects of mind, body and spirit.
Neopagans call this holiday Ostara, named for the Germanic goddess of dawn. Although evidence of her worship as Eostre by the Anglo-Saxons is sparse at best, turning up only in the writings of an English churchman named Bede, it's safe to say that by the 19th century, Ostara had become an important part of German culture. The linguist and folklorist Jacob Grimm proposed that Eostre was a localized version of the Germanic goddess he called Ostara.
As one popular folktale goes, Ostara was belatedly rushing to bring spring to the winter lands when she stumbled upon a helpless bird lying on the barren ground, dying of cold. Remorsefully, she warmed the bird to revive it, but it couldn't fly because its wings had frozen. She compassionately turned the bird into a hare so it would survive in the wild. However, it retained its ability to lay eggs and repaid her by laying a colorful assortment for her festival each spring.
Hence the roots of Easter were tangled, and the story grows only more confusing with the Christian addition of the resurrection. What it all boils down to, is that virtually every culture throughout history has had traditions and rituals to celebrate the renewal and rebirth of spring. Many neopagans gather today at the mysterious Stonehenge to welcome spring's first sunrise, although there is no written record of what the ancient monument was built for.
So perhaps it's ok to embrace a little mystery, and celebrate the arrival of spring in whichever way best suits you. The spring equinox is a great time for us to open our sleepy eyes, look around and get our bearings, before we thrust upward into the sun-soaked action of spring and summer. We would suggest a little reset with our SPRING equinox box, shipping March 15th.
Ostara and the Hare, Stephen Winick
Photo of Loughcrew, heritageireland.ie
Spring Equinox, danaan.net
Spring Equinox, druidry.org
Vernal Equinox, history.com
]]>Samhain (pronounced “SAH-win”) is an ancient Celtic festival and spiritual tradition that is celebrated by modern pagans around the world, marking the midpoint between the Autumn Equinox (Mabon) and Winter Solstice (Yule). One of the four major fire festivals in the Wheel of the Year, many practitioners consider it the most important.
It can take place over several days and nights, varying by spiritual tradition and geography. In the Northern Hemisphere, it is typically observed from sundown October 31st through sundown November 1st, although some prefer to celebrate it on the closest weekend, or new or full moon.
A Gaelic word meaning "summer's end," Samhain marks the third and final harvest, ushering in the dark half of the year. All has been gathered in, and all that remains is to release and surrender to the end of the cycle, that is death, before rebirth can take place and the cycle begins again. The sun descends, seeds go dormant, and it is out of this darkness, this mysterious void, that eventually new life will emerge.
This is a sacred time, when the veil between the physical and spirit world is said to thin. It is a moment of reverence, when death and the dead are honored for their place in the cycle of life. We take care to protect ourselves from any restless spirits, and we seek the wisdom of our ancestors. It is thought they walk with us, along with our future descendants, all linked together in this endless chain of endings—and beginnings.
So while we think of our dearly departed most days, on this day we can turn to them and listen for their advice. We may hear their words in our mind. Was there something they always said to us? Does a specific memory come up? What would they tell us if they could? They are in our DNA. We know the answers.
Do take care to protect yourselves: draw those circles deosil (clockwise) before your more involved rituals and when you are finished, say, "May any negative energy that has been released be sent back to the earth for transmutation," while opening them widdershins (counter-clockwise).
I have been moved to release and surrender this Samhain, so please enjoy 20% off site wide from midnight tonight through midnight October 31st with the code SAMHAINSALE.
Blessed be!
Samhain, history.com
Samhain/Halloween, goddessandgreenman.com
Samhain: Traditions, Rituals and Herbs for the Pagan Holiday, herbstalk.org
Celebrating Samhain, circlesanctuary.org
]]>Ah, like a breath of fresh air, a soothing balm, a shining sliver of hope, with this new moon Imbolc is upon us. At this time of new beginnings in the wheel of the year, all is possible, if only lying just beneath the surface, waiting to burst forth...
]]>Ah, like a breath of fresh air, a soothing balm, a shining sliver of hope, with this new moon Imbolc is upon us. At this time of new beginnings in the wheel of the year, all is possible, if only lying just beneath the surface, waiting to burst forth.
Imbolc, or Imbolg means "in the belly," and 10th century Irish poetry tells of this celebration, related to the quickening of the ewe's milk before lambing. It was dedicated to Brigid, goddess of poetry, crafts and prophesy, who was evoked in ancient fertility rites. According to mythology, she was born with a flame in her head and drank the milk of a mystical cow, so becoming associated with fire and milk. She was worshiped by the Filid, a class of ancient Celtic poets and historians. In the Celtic pantheon Tuatha du Danann, she is daughter of the oldest god, Dagda, and has two sisters by the same name.
It is thought these three Brigids symbolized different aspects of the same goddess, with Imbolc honoring the aspect of the maiden. In pre-Christian times, people prepared their homes for a visit from Brigid the night before February 1st by crafting an effigy of her from oats and rushes. The festival itself went from sundown February 1st until sundown February 2nd, marking the halfway point between winter solstice and spring equinox in Neolithic Ireland and Scotland.
The goddess Brigid was so well loved by the people, she was woven into Christianity as St. Brigid, with the Catholic church claiming that the patron saint was a real person. Whether or not this is true, the obvious commonalities that St. Brigid has with the pagan goddess show her roots. Practitioners of neopaganism today honor Brigid as the maiden aspect of the triple goddess, and celebrate Imbolc as a time of renewal and hope.
We now have a cross-quarter candle subscription called the Burn box, and the Imbolc edition will be shipping January 29th-February 2nd. Our Calm foaming milk bath would make a wonderful nourishing addition as well. A blessed Imbolc to you, and whether you celebrate or not, I hope this season brings you comfort, insight and hope.
Imbolc, history.com
Imbolc/Candlemas, goddessandgreenman.co.uk
Imbolc, herbstalk.org
]]>
Little did I know when I visited the Temple of Demeter on Naxos four years ago what meaning its mythology would come to hold for me.
Commonly known as the goddess of the harvest and agriculture, Demeter also presided over the sacred law—the cycle of life and death. She and her daughter Persephone were the central figures of the Eleusinian Mysteries, a tradition that is thought to have predated the Olympian pantheon itself.
These Mysteries represented the myth of the abduction of Persephone by Hades, the king of the underworld, in a cycle with three phases: the descent, the search, and the ascent, with the main theme being her ascent and reunion with her mother. The rites were kept secret, especially the Greater Mysteries, which took place between what would be September-October on our Gregorian calendar. These included a ritual bath in the sea, three days of fasting, and a still-mysterious central rite which quite possibly culminated in drinking a psychedelic brew.
As the myth goes, Demeter’s distress over her daughter’s abduction halted the harvest, and while she searched for her ceaselessly, all living things began to die. Zeus, faced with the extinction of life on earth, convinced Hades to return her on condition that she had eaten nothing in the underworld (it is told Zeus had originally given Hades permission to take her in marriage) and when she was reunited with Demeter, the world burst into bloom. But Persephone had eaten a few pomegranate seeds in the underworld, so it was agreed that she must return to reign with Hades for a few months every year (one for each seed), and the cycle repeats itself.
I've been fascinated with Jungian archetypes ever since reading Women Who Run With the Wolves, and I find solace in this mythology. This cycle is something I feel I've been going through, and just as we must make this journey individually, I believe we also make it collectively.
Enter DEMETER, coming this Autumn and the first reveal of our EQUINOX BOX: a room and body mist I’ve crafted with wild and Damascan rose, cardamom, palmarosa, sandalwood and benzoin to help carry us along our way and bring us back home to the present moment. It is divinely grounding, seductive and sultry with a hint of spice, and I can't wait for you to try it.
Reserve your box today by joining our CSH (community supported herbalism) program!
]]>It's hard to imagine that just a few months ago, we were still mostly staying home and unsure how and when things would open back up. The silver lining of this was the opportunity to slow down, look around and take stock of our lives. These days, things seem to be moving at almost breakneck speed again. So how can we take the lessons we learned during the last year and put them into practice in our overly busy society?
One way is through ritual. A ritual is a routine that has been elevated with creativity, driven by intention and imbued with meaning. Rituals give us a way to be here now, in the present moment, and can be simple things like lighting a candle, journalling, making tea, meditating and stretching in the sun, or as involved as giving yourself a scalp-to-toes oil massage (Ayurvedic abyanga is absolute magic if you haven't tried it).
I've found following the rhythms of the earth works for me, as they're reflected in my body. I mean, can we talk about menstruating for a minute? Having a menstrual cycle that corresponds with the cycles of the moon gives women a deep, intuitive understanding of the cyclical nature of life. And what's amazing is that we're all able to give birth in many different ways in this endless cycle of creation and release, regardless of gender. Masculine and feminine energies are both needed.
As the moon orbits our planet, its gravitational pull governs our tides and its cycles influence all of life on earth. While there is much we still don't understand about its complete influence, it's very simple to reconnect with its rhythms to rewild our minds and bodies.
There are many different ways to work with all the various phases of the moon. I personally like to observe the following five moon phases within each full cycle:
Dark Moon (modern new moon): a phase of introspection, examination, peeling back layers and finding your deepest truths
New Moon (modern waxing crescent): a phase of opportunity, hope and pure potential for the seeds you've planted
Waxing Moon: a phase of growth, nurturing, expression and change: giving birth to your dreams
Full Moon: a phase of happiness, vitality, strength and celebration, with heightened senses and awareness
Waning Moon: a phase of letting go, decluttering and recycling energy from that which is no longer needed
Because of my ancestry, I most closely identify with the Celtic tradition. In this, there are eight great festivals of the year. Four are of the stars: the solstices and equinoxes, and four are of the earth: the seasonal observations.
Samhain (ancestors): a reflective, quiet time when the veil between worlds thins to access the wisdom of our ancestors
Midwinter Solstice/Yule (rebirth): a time for gathering with loved ones and celebrating the return of light and energetic reawakening
Imbolc (beginnings): a time of the maiden, of freshness, youth and renewal, and of rediscovering hope and tenderness
Spring Equinox/Ostara (growth): a time of blossoming, growth and rebirth, and of the balance of day and night before tipping into light
Beltane (fertility): a time of sensuality, passion, and fertility; a celebration of love and the sweetness and bliss of life itself
Summer Solstice/Litha (light): a glimpse of light and life in all its perfection, a time to seize the day and the magic of the present moment
Lughnasadh (harvest): a time of peace, sharing, looking back and learning, while planning for the winter and darkness ahead
Autumn Equinox/Mabon (descent): a brief moment of balance, stillness and tranquility before entering the darkening womb of winter
As we just hit the peak of the Summer Solstice and the moon is waxing, I've been riding this golden streak of opportunity and our entire shop has been updated—we have quite a few new seasonally wildcrafted goods and soaps in store!
We've also introduced a new collection called Intentional Living, currently housing two moon phase candles made with local beeswax, scented only with organic essential oils, and a nontoxic and sustainable wooden wick that gently crackles in a portable tin. I'm sensitive to most candles but use them for my rituals so I decided to create my own. Maybe they're something you're looking for too!
And on the note of waxing and waning, I will be taking a trip to visit family in Washington and forage along the way, so orders will not be shipping between June 26th and July 10th. They will ship when I return in the order received. Catch me before I go at the Felton Farmers' Market or at the Event Santa Cruz Midtown Block Party Friday night! See our events page for more info. And if you can't make it, get your order in by the 25th so I can ship it to you before leaving.
Solstice Blessings to all!
]]>Think for a moment of everything our bodies do for us. They are truly miraculous! Yet we so often ignore them or even direct negative attention towards them. But what if we chose to show our bodies how grateful we are for everything they do?
]]>Think for a moment of everything our bodies do for us. They are truly miraculous! Yet we so often ignore them or even direct negative attention towards them. But what if we chose to show our bodies how grateful we are for everything they do? Maybe then we could start viewing our own bodies in a positive light, no matter what phase of life we are in.
We can use the cycles of the earth as a guide for intuitive self care to ride the existing natural rhythms rather than working against them, and infuse our routines with creativity, intention and meaning to transform them into rituals of self love.
There are many powerful plants that can help support us, inside and out, through life's varied seasons. The following are just a few examples.
Spring :: Waxing Moon :: Follicular :: Maiden
During this time of awakening and growth, herbs that support our body will be nourishing and gently stimulating. Nettles, dandelion greens, violet, chickweed, cleavers and plantain leaf are just a few of the wonderful plant allies that are abundant in nature during this period of transition from darkness into light.
Summer :: Full Moon :: Ovulatory :: Mother
At the peak of expansion, sunshine and high energy it can be hard to take it all in, and that's just what our wonderful summer plant friends can help us with. In overflowing gardens and bountiful wild places, we can find calendula, lemon balm, lavender, roses, peppermint and so much more to help us savor the moment.
Fall :: Waning Moon :: Luteal :: Crone
This season is about letting go, shedding layers and preparing for the womb of winter. As the process of decomposition begins, we recycle energy from what we no longer need. Roots such as gently detoxifying burdock, loaded with the prebiotic inulin, anti-inflammatory turmeric and ginger help ease this transition.
Winter :: Dark/New Moon :: Menstrual :: Crone
Now is the time you'll appreciate having a well stocked apothecary! Nutrient rich, immune supporting herbs such as rose hips and elderberries, adaptogenic mushrooms and tulsi, antiviral yarrow and warming spices will help fortify your body through this dark period of introspection. Add in mugwort for dream work.
We still have some SPRING boxes available and you can sign up for our CSH (Community Supported Herbalism) program to receive one. It's a wonderful way to support your body's changing needs for each season.
In other news, we have some markets coming up! We will be at the Downtown Santa Cruz Makers Market on April 18th, and are participating in the Felton Farmers Market on Tuesdays from May 4th through the end of October. See our Events page for more info.
Shipping and packaging prices have gone up this year, so we are no longer able to offer free shipping on all orders. However, when you spend $50, you unlock free shipping. The silver lining here is that this has allowed us to keep most of our prices from going up, and even lower our local olive oil soap prices to $10 each: check out the spring lineup!
Every order still plants a tree in our national forests. Together we will plant 124 trees for the first quarter of 2021!
]]>I’ve been doing heart work lately. I went through some personal trauma in the past that left me completely annihilated me from my true self. As a result, I both stopped listening to my intuition and eventually became shut off from my very. own. body. And you know what? We ALL go through trauma. Either individually or collectively (or both), we can all accumulate physical and emotional wounds as we hurtle though time and space on this living rock.
So, what's the heart got to do with it? Besides being a truly wondrous organ, that over the course of an average life span will beat 2.5 billion times and even mechanically generates its own electrical impulse, that is (Johns Hopkins Medicine)—what about the emotional heart? Is it connected? And if so, how?
According to Ayurvedic medicine, the heart is more than a physical structure: the heart is the Anahata Chakra, the seat of the divine or true self. Ayurveda also considers the heart to be the ruler of the mind, intellect, and consciousness. In this tradition, untreated emotional wounds and feelings of lack of love or unfulfilled needs can be linked to diseases of the physical heart as well. From this view, healing your emotional wounds is VITAL to life itself.
In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the heart, along with the lungs, is involved in the transformation of qi (vital energy) from air and food; it is the organ of the fire element and summer. In TCM, the heart governs mental activity and the physiological functions of the brain, influencing memory, thought patterns and even sleep. It is viewed as the seat of consciousness, housing both the mind and spirit.
I believe that as a trauma response, in an effort to protect myself, I had unknowingly shut my emotional heart down. This in turn cut me off from my true self and my intuition, and then from my physical body itself. And I'm gonna level with you: I was angry. Yes, angry—something that is often viewed as a shameful feeling for women to have in our society, just as men have been conditioned not to cry.
Anger CAN be beneficial, because once we’ve had enough it will spur us into action. However, if left untreated, our emotional wounds begin to fester and our anger will spill over into all areas of our life.
Therapy has helped me enormously, and in addition I have been working on integrating my shadow (a great book on this is Women Who Run with the Wolves). Working with plant medicine, returning to my roots and spending time in nature have all helped me to find my healing path, as well as cultivating personal spiritual practices that help me slow down, be mindful and reconnect with my intuition and HEART.
Long life, honey in the heart: I’m learning that the goal for cultivating a healthy and peaceful energetic heart is not to banish all difficult and challenging emotions and feelings, which shuts us down. What we need to do is create enough space, stillness and softness within our own hearts to contain the full spectrum of human emotions that flow within us and from others. We have to feel the feels.
Do I have this down in practice? Nope, but I'm working on it: gradually softening, opening, remembering. Remembering who I am.
The only way out is through. So while herbs are a wonderful ally to help us along our path of heart opening, they’re not meant to be used as a panacea or an emotional band-aid. That said, some herbs are helpful for both the physical and emotional heart. Rose, hawthorn, hibiscus and lemon balm are some that have spoken to me recently. If you feel called to work with rose medicine, we have a wonderful, heart opening wild rose tincture available.
Blessed full moon. May you be well and happy.
]]>A mainstay in many herbal apothecaries, elderberry (Sambucus nigra) is one of the most widely known herbs to reach for at the first signs of the common cold or flu (note: there is currently no scientific research on its effectiveness against COVID-19 and I am not giving medical advice here). Also known as black elder, blue elderberry, bore tree, bourtree, common elder, elderberry, elkhorn, sweet elder and Jie gu mu in TCM, the elder tree is native to Europe, North Africa and Western Asia. It prefers moist soil and grows from 10-30 feet tall, with serrated, oblong leaves opposite each other along hollow stems. Branching clusters of white flowers blossom on flat panicles in spring, with glossy purple to black berries developing in late summer/fall.
The common name elder stems from the Anglo-Saxon aeld, meaning fire, as the hollow stems were used like a bellows for starting fires. A tree that has been revered as a sacred and magical plant throughout history by various cultures, many a folktale and myth around the world tell of a nymph who abides within the elder, watching over it and offering healing to us, just so long as we show respect and honor the plant. Anytime we seek a plant's healing, it's a wonderful and enriching practice to show gratitude for its gifts, as many indigenous cultures have done throughout human existence on Earth. In this way we not only honor the plant, but our ancestor's traditions as well.
Elder flowers are rich in vitamin C, flavanoids, essential oils, mucilage, tannins and the hydrocyanic glycoside sambunigrine, while the berries are high in vitamins A and C, antioxidant flavanoid compounds and iron, with active constituents including anthrocyanins, tannins and sambunigrine.
Elderberry has been scientifically studied quite extensively. Taken at the onset of symptoms, it can both strengthen cells and interfere with a virus' ability to replicate, thereby shortening the duration of a cold or flu. This has been shown in an in-vitro study of elderberry extract and H1N1 infection, during which the elderberry flavonoids were shown to bind to the virus and block its ability to infect host cells. In a placebo-controlled, double-blind study, flu recovery was achieved within 2-3 days in nearly 90% of the elderberry treated group while it took at least 6 days for the placebo group.
While I'm not offering this as a solution to the current pandemic, elderberry syrup is a great tool to have in your medicine chest. It can be used to boost your immune system and help your body ward off potential infection as well as fight the common cold and flu, so now seemed like a good time to share this recipe!
Ingredients
Directions
Recommended adult dosage: 1 T 3x daily, sublingually or added to beverage of choice.
Not recommended for children under 1 year old because it contains honey.
These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. For educational purposes only. If you’re pregnant, nursing, or on any medications, consult a health care professional before using new herbal products.
]]>A freshly-made batch of arnica and comfrey salve sits on the kitchen counter; additions of ground cayenne in the oil infusion and white camphor and turmeric essential oils will help to relieve pain, stimulate circulation and reduce inflammation, respectively. Salve is one of my favorite things to make. I love the process of infusing oil with medicinal herbs, and all the wonderful smells that fill my house. I feel like a witch with a bubbling cauldron—minus the eye of newt.
My path to studying herbalism has been a meandering one… even one that I have repeatedly avoided, to be honest. I moved to Santa Cruz 14 years ago, where I've felt right at home since I set foot on West Cliff—which is a surprise for someone who couldn’t seem to live anywhere for more than a year all through her early twenties. I considered myself a nomad until I found Santa Cruz.
14 years ago, I would not have told you I wanted to be an herbalist. Although my roots are in a 40-acre homestead in Washington State, I would have said that herbalism was too “hippy-dippy” for me: something California changed. I thought that kind of thing was all well and good for others who wanted to do it, but I studied photography and international relations in college and saw myself traveling the world for the rest of my life.
A few years later, I began making my own body care products, both because I didn’t want to use chemically-laden ones and because I couldn’t afford to buy the expensive natural ones all the time.
Then I rediscovered my love of plants when I started a garden during my first semester of grad school. It was so overwhelming, in fact, that I chose to drop out of grad school and study horticulture at the local community college—and that was when my connection with herbs began. Plant people will often tell you that certain plants speak to them, and for some reason herbs kept calling out to me.
While I was still in grad school I had formulated a plan around selling the natural body care products that I’d started making for myself and friends, teaching others how to make their own, and eventually establishing a community garden and learning center. In May of 2015, I started phase one of the process: selling my natural body care products.
Verdant's mission is to create products that harness the healing powers of plants as simply as possible, using the purest ingredients available. My products are made by hand, using botanicals that are local, wildcrafted or organic. My homesteading childhood instilled in me a love of nature and a belief in the connectedness of all things. When something is good for your body, it’s good for the earth (and vice-versa). I am an ongoing student of herbalism through The Herbal Academy and my own self-guided studies: when it comes to plants, there's always more to learn!
The Santa Cruz community has been incredibly supportive. I’ve found various maker’s markets to sell at, and many local businesses have been warm and enthusiastic about selling my products. Selling wholesale has been the biggest game-changer for my business—you can find me on the Faire platform, which has helped me get my products out into North America, at verdantwild.faire.com. I also plan to teach more workshops and of course, I sell online here through Shopify.
And someday, maybe someday, I’ll just open that garden and learning center. For now, I'm happy to be doing what I love and sharing it with you! It brings such joy to my heart when I hear that my creations have been helpful to others. Thank you!
]]>According to folklore, calendula is associated with the sun and the fire element, and was once believed to imbue those in its company with the magical powers of protection and clairvoyance. Flowers hung above doorposts and placed under beds were thought to ward off evil and protect those sleeping. And it was rumored that to strengthen and comfort the heart, one should pick calendula under the noonday sun. What better way to celebrate the vernal equinox and beginning of spring than with this golden blossom?
Back in 1578, English botanist Henry Lyte wrote in A Niewe Herball that calendula “…hath pleasant, bright and shining yellow flowers, the which do close at the setting down of the sun, and do spread and open again at the sun rising.” And although the bright flower’s petals may currently be closed because we are experiencing (heavy) rain here today, that alone is cause for celebration: this sunny flower is thriving because of it! I’ve seen it popping up along sidewalks all over town recently.
A well-known favorite herb, calendula has been used internally, topically, ceremonially and as a natural dye for centuries. 17th century botanist, herbalist and astrologist Nicholas Culpepper noted the use of calendula with vinegar as a rinse for the skin and scalp. He also mentioned that a tea made with the flowers was a comfort to the heart. In the Ayurvedic tradition of India, calendula is considered energetically cooling, while in Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) it is called Jin Zhan Ju and considered neutral and drying, used to support healthy skin. In North American indigenous cultures, it has been traditionally used to treat upset stomachs.
Our contemporary applications of the plant mirror its traditional uses. Calendula is an anti-inflammatory and anti-microbial that promotes the growth and healing of epithelial tissue. It is used internally and externally for ulcers, digestive inflammation, cuts, scrapes, boils, burns, insect bites, sunburn, diaper rash and dry skin. Use the freshly dried, whole flower heads to make infusions, teas and tinctures. And the fresh flower petals can add a nutritious dash of color and flavor to salads, spreads and other dishes.
Naturalized in much of the world, calendula is native to Southern Europe, Egypt, the Mediterranean, and the region spanning the Canary Islands to Iran. It is one of the most essential herbs you can easily grow for your medicine chest. This bright orange and yellow annual easily re-seeds itself in your garden and just about anywhere, really. Be sure to choose Calendula officinalis and not one of the many ornamental marigolds (Tagetes spp.).
To grow, direct-sow in early spring or late fall (it can withstand some frost). It enjoys full sun or partial shade and moderate water. Flowers can be continually harvested—the hardy little plants produce all summer long—and the plants can be cut back drastically to increase new flower production. Because it grows like a weed here in on the central coast, it can also be foraged. Just make sure not to harvest from the side of the road or places where pesticides might be sprayed.
Calendula is an active ingredient in our Heal first aid salve, along with plantain leaf and yarrow. And we love to infuse our gold-laden shimmer oil with calendula for its sunny color and skin-soothing qualities.
]]>Perhaps the most beloved flower in human history, the rose has been exalted throughout time for its intoxicating perfume, sweet flavor and ravishing beauty. Its heady scent is known as an aphrodisiac, evoking feelings of sensuality and romance. Aromatherapists also find it soothing to the nervous system, helping to heal a broken spirit. Complete with fleeting yet recurring blossom, delicate petal and thorny stem, the plant is ripe with symbolism and mythology, but it also has many beneficial uses.
The rose is an old soul, and fossil evidence has shown that wild roses once grew throughout the Northern Hemisphere, from North Africa and Mexico to as far north as Norway and Alaska. It is believed that cultivation began some 5,000 years ago in Central Asia. Rosa gallica, the French rose, has been identified as the oldest rose that exists today. At one time, it grew wild over all of Central and Southern Europe as well as the Middle East, and was regarded by the Persians as a symbol of love. Rosa damascena, the Damask rose, widely known for its fragrance since as far back as 900 BC, descended from this rose.
In Greek mythology, the rose is a shining symbol of beauty, purity, passion and love. In the tale of Aphrodite’s birth, it is said that where sea foam dripped from her body, white roses sprang up. Later, when Aphrodite rushes to her wounded lover Adonis’ side, she is pricked by the thorns of a white rose bush, her blood then transforming the roses into a passionate red. In the famous myth of Eros, the Greek god of love and Psyche, the seasons bring forth roses after their love is tested to the limits and found true.
Roman mythology mirrors that of the Greeks, Aphrodite becoming Venus and Eros becoming Cupid. It is rumored that the word rose originated when Flora, the goddess of flowers and spring, is pricked by one of Cupid’s arrows. She attempts to utter the word “Eros,” but in her pain it comes out sounding more like “ros.” Thus the rose as a symbol of Eros took root.
The Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder recorded 32 medicinal uses of rose petals, flowers and heads. In medieval Europe, roses were grown more for medicine and food than their beauty. And with dozens of varieties native to North America, the indigenous peoples here made use of the leaves, petals, hips, and roots for a variety of ailments, including colds, fevers, diarrhea, influenza and stomach issues.
Rose hips contain triple the amount of vitamin C found in citrus fruits and make a delicious tea. Rose petals are a romantic, unique addition to salads and chocolate alike, while rose water is divine in whipped cream and baked goods. Both the hips and petals can be used to make tasty jams and syrups.
Topically, rose soothes inflammation and acts as a mild astringent, toning and balancing the skin while simultaneously providing that signature, sensual scent that calms the senses. Our Balance facial mist with rose hydrosol is a favorite, and the Nourish facial grains make use of ground rose petals and hibiscus, while the Restore facial oil is full of rose hip seed oil, high in vitamin C as well as the natural retinol vitamin A, making it ideal for protecting skin and increasing cell turnover. Plus, our romantic rosebud, Himalayan salt and magnesium Soak mineral bath is now up online as well!
]]>Chamomile has always been one of my favorite herbs. In fact, it was probably one of the first herbs I knew about. As far back as many of us can remember, our mothers have most likely had chamomile tea on hand for upset tummies and as a comforting bedtime treat. So it’s not much of a surprise to learn that Chamomile is one of the oldest and most broadly used medicinal plants in the world, and it has been well documented for a variety of healing applications.
It has been used for centuries as an anti-inflammatory, antioxidant and mild astringent to treat wounds, ulcers, eczema, gout, skin irritations, bruises, burns, canker sores, neuralgia, sciatica, rheumatic pain, hemorrhoids, mastitis and more. It has also been used externally to treat diaper rash, cracked nipples, chicken pox, ear and eye infections, blocked tear ducts, conjunctivitis, nasal inflammation and poison ivy. And the tea has been used to calm nerves, treat insomnia and other sleep problems, for gastrointestinal distress, and to treat colic, croup and fevers in children. Wow, what a resume!
German Chamomile (Matricaria recutita), an upright growing annual and Roman Chamomile (Chamaemelum nobile), a perennial ground cover, are the two common varieties, the former being the most widely used and better tasting. During distillation, German Chamomile also produces higher levels of azulene, a blue-tinted, active organic compound, so it is sometimes referred to as Blue Chamomile.
The Latin word for womb, matrix, is the root of the plant’s genus, Matricaria, and the name Chamomile stems from the Greek kamaimelon, meaning “earth apple.” Its Spanish name, Manzanilla, means “little apple.” Germans refer to it as alles zutraut, meaning “capable of anything.”
The ancient Egyptians both used Chamomile extensively and gave it as an offering to the gods. In European folklore, it was viewed as a cure-all with magical implications for attracting money. Native Americans have long utilized the entire plant by making tea, jewelry and perfume. In Mexico, has been used to support healthy respiratory function, soothe the stomach and assist digestion. The Tzeltal Maya incorporate it with orange and lime leaf into a mood-lifting tea.
These members of the Asteraceae family bear small, white, daisy-like blossoms and a heady, fruity scent, similar to apples. They like moist, light and sandy loam with good drainage. German Chamomile tends to perennialize in warmer climates and can re-seed itself. In the Bay Area, you can expect blooms as soon as eight weeks after starting your seeds, continuing until frost. Summer flowers should be harvested early in the day, when temperatures are cool and dried immediately, out of the sun.
Chamomile is one of my favorite herbs to use in skin care preparations for its anti-inflammatory, soothing effects and its wonderfully fruity scent. It can be found our our Soothe hand and body cream and Buff facial grains.
]]>For the last week, I’ve been attending an international food conference and festival called Terra Madre Salone del Gusto in Torino, a beautiful city located in the Piedmont Region of Italy. This event is organized by Slow Food International, an organization committed to making good, clean, and fair food available to all people. And while a good portion of this commitment is about the enjoyment of food, it goes much deeper than that.
To truly enjoy what you eat is to know it—to know where it comes from, how it was grown, who produced it, and how it got on your plate. And, assuming you enjoy what you’re eating, to desire to keep it coming back to your plate and palate. True enjoyment calls for responsibility.
Food is not only a basic human need; it is intrinsically political. It is at the heart of social connections, cultural traditions, and economic networks, both local and global. You can see why, worldwide, the act of inviting somebody to your table is the ultimate form of sharing.
You may have heard about a little U.S. company called Monsanto (the largest global supplier of genetically modified seeds). You may also know that another little company, Bayer (a German pharmaceutical firm), just bought Monsanto for $66 billion. This is following the ChemChina-Syngenta and DuPont-Dow mergers. And I thought the agriculture industry was already too consolidated!
GMOs and glyphosate aside, the homogenization of our food supply is damaging our health, causing a loss of biodiversity and livelihoods, driving down the market value of food, and pushing indigenous people off their lands.
There are now two billion obese people in the world. And over $2,000 billion a year is spent on healthcare globally. Who pays for this? We all do, and not just in quality of life and subsidies, but in the future of our home and our children’s home.
But it’s not all bad news. The good news is that the small farmers, artisans, and indigenous people of the world are gathering together, finding their voice, and rising up.
I heard story after success story from around the world this last week. People are returning to the land, they are healing their sickness by growing their own food, they are rescuing cultural foods on the brink of extinction, they are redistributing wasted food to those in need, and they are calling for international regulations on agriculture to hold large companies accountable.
Slow Food provides an opportunity for decentralized cooperation and opens the dialogue for people in the food industry from all around the world to share their experiences. This gives small regions an opportunity to play a key role in forming a new reality—international cooperation that is sponsored by local bodies.
People want their dignity back, and that was made clear by the 7,000 delegates from 143 countries at Terra Madre this year, making up 300 Slow Food presidia and 1,000 food communities, as well as the 5,000 public who attended the forums and conferences.
We are all struggling to understand the real truth behind our dysfunctional food system. And we’re joining forces.
So, as Ron Finley says, “Plant some shit!” And make some shit. And, maybe talk to someone about it. Or better yet, invite them over for dinner. Plant a garden in the front yard instead of the back yard. Bring people to the table, and to quote Alice Waters, “Feed them something so tasty that they want to come back again.”
I’d like to say a special thanks to those who helped make this trip possible so that I could study and share this, and many other inspiring stories: Devon Hodges, Laurel Lyle, Phinehas Hodges, Amber Critchfield, Emily Pugh, Stephanie Hanson, Barbara Banthien, Samm Hodges, Julie Bradley, Abigail Wolfe, Chris Banthien, Sue Banthien, Liz Spencer, Kate Hodges, Christine Loeffler, and Summer Peterson. Read more at Edible Monterey Bay.
]]>Now that we know the history of lavender, let’s make something with it!
Flower waters, or hydrosols, are made by distilling the volatile oils out of herbs and flowers. On a large scale, this is done with copper stills, but it can also be done on a small scale with supplies that most of us have in our own kitchens. Although hydrosols are often made as a byproduct of essential oils, their quality is much higher when distilled as a stand-alone product. They contain the same components as essential oils, but in a less concentrated, gentler form that does not need to be diluted for use. Hydrosols are great in homemade herbal concoctions, and I use them often in my natural beauty products.
Lavender hydrosol is refreshing, calming, and cooling. It can be used to soothe sunburns, rashes and other skin conditions, as a facial toner, as an aromatherapeutic room or linen spray, and to calm nerves or encourage sleep at bedtime.
For this project, you’ll need a large pot, a brick (or other heat-safe elevation device), fresh buds, leaves and stems of lavender (enough to place around the brick and just cover with water up to the top of the brick), a heat-safe bowl that will fit under the inverted lid, water, and ice.
First, place the brick in the pot and surround it with your fresh plant material. Fill with enough water to just cover the plant material, but do not fill above the brick.
Place your bowl on top of the brick. It must fit under the inverted lid.
Place the inverted lid on top and fill with ice, then bring to a low simmer. You want it to be hot enough to create steam, but you don’t want to cook the plant material too fast or get residue into the bowl. Simmer for 20-25 minutes, dumping the melted ice out of the lid as needed (being careful not to get the ice water in your hydrosol bowl).
The steam containing the essential oils of the lavender will gather on the underside of the inverted lid, dripping down into the bowl inside.
Pour the contents of your bowl into a glass storage container. The water should be clear, if not it means that either your heat was too high or you distilled for too long. I only ended up with about one cup, but I also ran out of ice.
You now have your own lavender hydrosol! It will be stable for six months to a year—store in the refrigerator to prolong shelf life.
]]>Lavender harvest has begun. After a day in the field of cutting sticky handfuls, I met my friend Liz Birnbaum for dinner, who just happens to be the lovely mastermind behind The Curated Feast. A lively conversation ensued about the history, uses and folklore of this odoriferous plant. We even had a musky grapefruit and lavender saison by Shanty Shack Brewing during our meal. As expected, our conversation began with the heady fragrance and tranquilizing effects of the plant, then quickly delved into its history—Liz’s trademark.
This plant has been around for quite some time, dating back some 2500 years. It is a perennial evergreen shrub, native to the Canary Islands, North and East Africa, south Europe, the Mediterranean, Arabia, and India. Today it is cultivated throughout the world, both in gardens and landscapes as well as commercially.
Lavender is the common name for the numerous flowering plant genus Lavandula of the mint family. The most commonly used species in the essential oil industry is Lavandula augustifolia, known for its sweet floral aroma and medicinal properties. L. x intermedia is quickly catching up however, properly labeled as Lavandin but sometimes called Dutch Lavender. This species showcases a deeper bluish flower with a slight camphor note. And L. stoechas, or Spanish or French lavender, thought to be the species most likely used during Roman times, is today reserved largely for landscaping purposes.
The term lavender comes from the Latin lavare, meaning “to wash,” as the Romans used the blossoms to scent their bath water. But the plant was referred to as nardus by the ancient Greeks, after the Syrian city of Naarda, and its first recorded use was by the Egyptians during mummification.
Flowers fetched a pretty price during Roman times, selling for 100 denarii a pound—a month’s wages for a farm laborer, or fifty haircuts at the local barber—and were thought to restore the skin. The Romans introduced lavender to southern Britain when they conquered.
During the Great Plague of 1665, people wore bunches of lavender on each wrist and lavender oil was used by glove makers to scent their leathers, keeping the disease at bay. Also during the Plague, grave robbers washed their hands in a concoction called Four Thieves Vinegar containing lavender, wormwood, rue, sage, mint, and rosemary, and were rarely infected. The reason their technique may have actually worked is that lavender is known to repel the tiny culprit that was transmitting the Black Death: fleas.
In English folklore, a mixture of lavender, mugwort, chamomile, and rose petals is said to attract sprites, fairies, brownies, and elves. And lavender has long been thought an aphrodisiac, used for centuries in arousing passions. Legend has it that Cleopatra herself used the ambrosial flower to seduce both Julius Caesar and Mark Antony.
Lavender is a valuable source of nectar for bees, producing a wonderful honey. And the flowers are used culinarily as well, lending a floral, slightly sweet, and elegant flavor to many dishes. It pairs well with sheep and goat cheeses—a few little buds atop lavender honey would be the perfect finishing touch. Lavender buds can also be candied or used to infuse spirits, sugar, oil, and many other goodies. And the tea, of course, is divine.
]]>For centuries, this wild miracle plant has been used in numerous ways throughout many countries and cultures worldwide. Most commonly, nettles have been eaten, used as topical medicine, and consumed as a mineral rich tea. The fibers of its stem have been used to make a strong cloth, similar to that of hemp or flax. In folklore, the plant has been used as a talisman that is sprinkled around the home to ward off evil, or carried in a sachet to repel curses. Late herbalist Michael Moore even claimed that nettle seed oil could be used on the scalp to stimulate hair growth. And some people swear by stinging their joints with nettle hairs for the treatment of arthritis.
Around 50 species of the Urticaceae family exist worldwide. Urtica comes from the Latin verb urere, meaning to burn. This is in reference to the plant’s notorious stinging hairs. The two main species of the plant are U. dioica and U. urens. Dioca comes from the botanical term dioecious, which refers to a species that has either only male or female flowers on each plant. Both of these species are native to Eurasia and Africa, but have become naturalized in North America, South America and Australia.
The species most often found in North America is Urtica dioica ssp. gracilis, a perennial plant that loves moist areas, growing largely along streams and marshes from sea level to 10,000 feet. Its habit is two to six feet, with ovate serrated leaves that are heart-shaped at the base and square stems, bearing green flowers in long clusters. And famously, it’s covered in those pesky stinging hairs that irritate the skin when touched.
The leaves of this bristly plant are high in a number of vitamins and minerals, including A, B complex, C, E, K, folic acid, histamine, acetylcholine, formic acid, acetic acid and butyric acid. The notorious hairs are made of silica and inject neurotransmitters such as acetylcholine, histamine, 5HTP, moroidin, and leukotrienes into the skin. Not only that, but the root also contains numerous anti-inflammatory compounds: phytosterols, pentacyclic triterpenes, lignans, coumarin, ceramides, hydroxy fatty acids, polysaccharides, lectins, tannins, alcohols, monoterpenes and triterpenes. And the seed contains volatile oils and formic acid.
Boiling the leaves neutralizes the stinging hairs, leaving you with a delicious and nutritious green. Harvest young leaves in spring before the plant flowers – gloves are highly recommended. After cooking, you can remove the stems. A little olive oil, lemon and salt are wonderful compliments.
]]>When I began selling my natural skincare products, my intention was to share the recipes as well. Why? Because I want you to know how they’re made and that you don’t have to buy that chemically laden crap that’s out on the market. And if you want to make your own, it’s quite simple if you have some extra time and the right ingredients. One of the easiest recipes to start with is whipped body butter; you can make your own with just three ingredients. The trick is as simple as melting them together and then whipping the mixture as it cools. You’ll end up with a luxurious, buttery product that melts into your skin. And you can add your own favorite blend of essential oils, if desired.
You’ll need equal portions of shea butter, cocoa butter and coconut oil, a double boiler or similar contraption (such as a bowl that fits over the top of a pan with water in it), and an electric hand mixer. You want to make sure your butters and coconut oil are raw and unrefined – when they’re refined they lose virtually all of their healing properties – and organic and fair trade if possible. If you can’t find both butters, you can substitute one for the other, but this is my favorite blend.
The reason I’ve chosen these ingredients is because of the amazing things they do for your skin:
Shea butter is a skin superfood. I first learned about this miraculous butter, made from the nut of the shea tree in West Africa, while traveling in Ghana. Staff of Life in Santa Cruz sells raw, fair trade shea butter made by a women’s cooperative in Ghana. Chock full of vitamin A, it’s effective against blemishes, wrinkles, stretch marks, dermatitis and more. It’s extremely hydrating, providing immediate softness upon application. Not only that, but a study conducted by The National Center for Biotechnology Information indicated that shea butter contains anti-inflammatory and anti-tumor compounds. And a study by the American Journal of Life Sciences shows anti-aging benefits in shea butter, due to its ability to boost collagen production.
Cocoa butter, made from the extracted oil of the cocoa bean, is a skin-loving wealth of fatty acids and antioxidants. It prevents dryness and peeling, healing cracked and dry winter skin as well as skin that’s been in the summer sun. It’s easily absorbed into the skin and stays locked in for hours.In addition, it’s an emollient, meaning it adds a protective layer of hydration. Containing antioxidant compounds called cocoa mass polyphenols, cocoa butter can also help diminish signs of aging as well as soothe dermatitis and rashes. Plus, it smells like chocolate – enough said. I get my raw, fair trade organic cocoa butter from Mountain Rose Herbs.
A favorite among hippies for years, coconut oil works amazingly on skin because it has a low molecular weight and an affinity for bonding with proteins, being a triglyceride of lauric acid. This, in addition to capric and caprilic acids, helps keep skin healthy and clean. Coconut oil has similar moisturizing properties to shea and cocoa butter, and it also contains antibacterial properties. It melts into the skin, has a smooth feel and smells great. The downside to using coconut oil on your skin is that it gets runny in warm temps yet extremely hard in cold temps – whipping it with the butters makes a soft product that is much easier to apply!
Ingredients:
Directions:
Nothing can quite compare to the excitement of finding edible mushrooms; I was literally jumping up and down the first time I spotted a patch on my own. I haven’t struck gold before, but I’d imagine that’s probably the closest feeling—except mushroom gold is tasty and pairs well with all sorts of things, from wine, to steak, to (believe it or not) ice cream. By foraging for food, we as humans are reconnected to deep, ancient rhythms and traditions that were part of the human experience for millions of years. And after trying a dish containing such divinity as the golden chanterelle, one can see why the Roman emperor Nero termed mushrooms “the food of the gods.”
It may surprise you to learn that humans are more closely related to fungi than any other kingdom, and yet we know the least about them. And here in America, many people tend to be mycophobic (mushroom-fearing), compared to other cultures such as the Italians who are mycophilic (mushroom-loving). Yes, some mushrooms are poisonous and even deadly, but some mushrooms are drop-dead delicious and nutritious to boot. Also, many are actually highly medicinal and are currently being studied for their health benefits, including the treatment of cancer.
Of the estimated 1.5 - 5 million species of fungi on earth, only about 14,000 have been scientifically studied so far. The scientific study of mushrooms is called mycology, and I can’t bring up mycology without mentioning Paul Stamets, who has been studying mushrooms for over 40 years. He is the foremost authority on the subject, and believes that fungi can save our lives and restore our ecosystems—including helping bees recover from colony collapse.
I look forward to attending an upcoming foray in Mendocino with The Fungus Federation of Santa Cruz. Those new to foraging should go on organized forays, spend time with experts doing identification at events, take classes such as those offered at FFSC, and use a good field guide—recommended for central California is Mushrooms Demystified by David Arora, who started the Santa Cruz Fungus Fair 41 years ago while he was a student at UCSC. A guide specific to the Santa Cruz area is to be released this summer—Mushrooms of the Redwood Coast: A Comprehensive Guide to the Fungi of Coastal Northern California by Noah Siegel and Christian Schwartz. When it rains it spores. Really, it does.
Be careful if you’re new to foraging for mushrooms and make sure you identify your findings with a mycologist before consuming, as many varieties have “look-alikes” that are toxic, some even deadly. In addition, always cook your mushrooms before enjoying the fruits of your labor. Raw mushrooms are difficult to digest because their cell walls are made of chitin (the same thing that exoskeletons of arthropods are made of), which breaks down during cooking. They can also contain harmful microbes, which are killed by cooking, and some delicious edibles, including morels, are actually toxic when raw.
As the adage goes, “There are old mushroom hunters and bold mushroom hunters, but there are no old, bold mushroom hunters.”
Read the full guide, published on SantaCruz.com.
References
American Journal of Botany http://www.amjbot.org/content/98/3/426.full
Fungi Perfecti http://www.fungi.com/about-paul-stamets.html
Fungus Federation of Santa Cruz http://ffsc.us
The Mycota of Santa Cruz County http://scmycoflora.org/index.php
Bertelsen, Cynthia. Mushroom: A Global History, Reaktion Books Ltd (London), 2013.
Kuo, Michael. 100 Edible Mushrooms, University of Michigan, 2007.
Rogers, Robert. The Fungal Pharmacy: The Complete Guide to Medicinal Mushrooms & Lichens of North America, North Atlantic Books (Berkeley, CA), 2011.
]]>Since I no longer have my own goats, I’ve been having a hard time trying to decide what kind of milk to use. Unless I can buy organic, raw dairy locally, I know that it’s really not going to be very good for me or for the environment. But, because of FDA regulations, it’s hard to find raw milk. My choices are limited to a couple goat or cow dairy options at farmers markets, and let’s face it: they’re not cheap. While I’m in complete support of local organic farmers and what they do, a gal’s gotta have a budget! I simply don’t consume my milk fast enough to justify spending the extra money.
Many people are into almond milk these days, thinking it’s the healthier alternative, so I figured I’d see what all the fuss was about… but when I started looking at the ingredients, most packaged almond milks (and other alternative “milks”) contain sugar, carrageenan and other mysterious ingredients (even the organic ones, because organic standards are different for processed foods). I was left wondering whether I was actually better off buying organic dairy products!
In the meantime, I figured I’d like to try making my own almond milk from organic almonds.
Why organic? Well, for one thing raw almonds (unless sold at a farm stand or farmers market), by USDA regulations, must either be heat treated or fumigated with this nasty gas called propylene oxide (PPO), which is classified as a carcinogen and banned in Canada, Mexico, and the European Union. Gross! Organic almonds cannot be treated with PPO. Organic also always means non-GMO, and organic farming is always better for your health and the environment than conventional farming.
Then there’s the carbon footprint… If I can’t milk my own goat or cow or get milk from one down the road, at least the carbon footprint for making my own almond milk is actually much smaller than buying dairy and quite possibly even alternative “milks” at the grocery store, taking into consideration all the processing, packaging and shipping.
Water is also of the utmost importance: California is in the midst of a record breaking drought, and 99% of U.S. almonds—80% of the world’s almonds—are grown here in California. It takes 1.1 gallons of water to grow an almond; they absorb nearly 10% of California’s annual water supply! That is certainly no small matter, but let’s put things into perspective. It takes 683 gallons of water to grow the alfalfa that goes into one gallon of cow milk, and less than 483 gallons of water to grow the almonds that go into a gallon of homemade almond milk.
It only takes a handful of almonds to make a glass of almond milk, and the leftover ground almonds can be dried to make almond meal—a great gluten-free baking ingredient.
Ingredients
Directions
Yield: 1 pint
]]>What could be more lovely than making lemon curd with fresh, in-season improved Meyer lemons, golden orange egg yolks from the henhouse and raw amber honey as the sun comes up? What a beautiful way to start the day, with all the hues of yellow imaginable.
Lemon curd will bring sunshine into the kitchen any time of day.
Here in Santa Cruz, lemons are plentiful right now and I was looking for a fun seasonal culinary adventure. I had plenty of eggs around as well, so lemon curd was the perfect fit.
Now I have lots of egg whites – perhaps a meringue topping is in the works? I can imagine little flaky crusts filled with tangy lemon curd and topped with fluffy meringue… yum.
To be honest, this was my second batch. On the first one, I tried using whole eggs and the curd came out with a slightly chalky texture. I chalked it up (ha) to the egg whites, and made a second batch with just the yolks.
This time it all came together.
This recipe is adapted from Sunset Magazine’s “The One-Block Feast: An Adventure in Food from Yard to Table.”
I wanted to make a lemon curd with honey instead of sugar, and my aunt lent me the cookbook. I just used less honey and more lemon juice than called for because Meyer lemons are slightly sweeter and less tart than the common Lisbon or Eureka lemon.
Ingredients
Instructions
Of course, I had to sneak a couple spoonfuls as it was cooling. Certified addictively delectable.
]]>I am currently traveling in Colombia, the world’s third largest producer of coffee last year, and I have fully immersed myself in all the joys of this flavorful, earthy beverage. My friend Mark lives in Medellín, and he considers coffee to be one of the major food groups. The next stop on my journey from that
[…]]]>I am currently traveling in Colombia, the world’s third largest producer of coffee last year, and I have fully immersed myself in all the joys of this flavorful, earthy beverage.
My friend Mark lives in Medellín, and he considers coffee to be one of the major food groups. The next stop on my journey from that beautiful city was to be the pueblo Salento, and Mark told my travel buddy and I that the best café in town was called Jesús Martín, where he wanted us to pick up some beans for him. His housemate also gave us a tip on where to get the best coffee farm tour, Finca Don Eduardo, which just so happens to be organic. Neither was disappointing.
If done well, from growing, processing and roasting the beans to creating a tasteful beverage and serving it, coffee is truly an art. I was a barista for six years and am unabashedly proud of my coffee history and latte art skills.
Finca Don Eduardo is over one hundred years old, but the current owner, who is originally from London, bought it six and a half years ago. He takes coffee much more seriously than he takes himself, and gives a fully immersive and informative tour of his farm and the process of producing good coffee.
The traditional coffee species of Colombia is Arabica, which originated in Ethiopa. For the best yield, it is normally grown between 1,200 and 1,600 meters. In Salento it is grown above that, at 2,000 meters. This is called high mountain coffee. It has less yield at this altitude, and according to Don Eduardo, better value.
He grows two varieties of traditional Arabica beans, Typica and Bourbon. These plants need shade, and the traditional way of planting them here is two meters apart with one row of shade plants such as bananas or plantains between every two rows of coffee.
Modern hybrids are being grown more and more in Colombia. These are Arabica bred with Robusta for several benefits to the farmer. The plants are smaller and don’t need shade, so they can be planted a meter apart and don’t need to be intercropped with plantains and bananas. They are also more pest resistant, and produce larger beans and a higher yield. Farmers here need all the help they can get, so modern hybrids and monocropping are replacing the traditional coffee varieties and growing methods.
Finca Don Eduardo grows their own seedlings, germinating them in a sandy medium to get healthy, straight roots. At about 12 weeks, they have a fósforo, and at 16 weeks a chapola. They then transplant into large, black plastic bags filled with soil and fertilizer. They use cut beer bottles to aid in placing the transplant without too much handling. One of the Colombian beers, Aguila, is said to be best for this because of its long neck—or maybe that’s what the workers prefer to drink!
At five months, the transplant is ready to go into the ground. This can be done at any time of year here, but it is usually done during the rainy season.
The traditional Arabica varieties need about five years before they can be harvested, then produce well for about ten-fifteen years. After this, they can be cut back and will produce again at a slightly lower rate. Modern hybrids need three years to begin producing, and then will produce for five-seven years before being cut back for another round.
The coffee cherries ripen about 36 weeks after flowering. This happens during the rainy season, so they need to be harvested in the pouring rain most of the time. They are harvested by hand into baskets strapped onto the pickers. The baskets have holes in the bottom to allow the water to drain out.
After harvest, the cherries are put into a despulpadora, which removes the skins from the bean. The skins are used to fertilize the soil.
The beans then go through a washing process during which they are soaked in drinking water (it must be good quality as this affects the final flavor). The floaters are removed as low-grade. When the water changes color and thickens like miel it means the sugars have been extracted from the beans. This is necessary to produce good flavor during the roasting process; if the sugars remain, the roast is uneven and burnt. The water is then changed repeatedly until it is clear. In some places here, a type of coffee wine is made with the honey-like water.
Traditionally, the beans are then dried in the sun on concrete because it absorbs heat well and releases it at a slow, even rate. It would take about three-five days to dry the beans in full sun. However, since coffee ripens and is harvested during the wet season here in Colombia, it usually needs to be covered to dry and takes about two-three weeks. The varieties are kept separate at Finca Don Eduardo, and can be up to eight inches deep, so they need to be moved around regularly with a rake in order to dry evenly.
At this stage the beans are called parchment coffee. A trilladora is used to remove the two skins left on the beans, the parchment skin and the silver skin, producing green coffee beans that are ready for roasting.
This is where the work of the farm normally ends, because the roasting is usually done as close to the consumption of coffee as possible. One reason for this is because it saves the farmer money on export. In addition, once the coffee is roasted it begins to degrade. On the other end, the cafés making the coffee typically prefer to have as much control as possible over the roasting process, as it affects the flavor and quality of the final product profoundly.
Traditionally in Colombia, the green coffee beans are dry roasted in a pan over high heat while stirring with a wooden spoon. The beans pop a bit, like popcorn, as they cook from the inside out. They must be removed from the heat before they are the color you want because they continue cooking for a bit. This requires much practice, seguro!
100 kilos of coffee cherries produces just 14 kilos of roasted coffee beans!
So, the next time you enjoy that espresso or latte made by your usual barista at your favorite café, think of all that goes into making that cup of coffee. Like wine, the flavor of coffee is affected by many things: the species and variety of the coffee plant, the growing region, the climate, the plants around it, what is in the soil, how it is fed and watered, how it is harvested, washed and dried, how it is roasted and stored, and finally how the actual beverage is made.
It’s pretty amazing, and you will probably enjoy drinking it that much more. I know I did!
¡Que rico!
]]>I had never tried a Persimmon until four years ago (I’m obviously not from California) at a community garden where I was volunteering. It was of an astringent variety, Hachiya, and it wasn’t ripe yet. It was terribly bitter and it made my mouth feel weird, so I concluded that I just didn’t like them. Then about three years ago my housemate dried some Fuyus for Christmas gifts. They were amazing and sweet like candy—even better than dried mangos.
This year I really wanted to make dried Persimmons for Christmas gifts like my past housemate did. I tried some Hachiyas at my friend’s house (we thought they were ripe – we even YouTubed it) and they still tasted terrible to me. I then learned that Fuyus don’t have the astringent quality, you can eat them before they are soft and actually should slice them for drying while they are still firm. So I set out to the farmers market on a mission to find a good deal on a gaggle of Fuyus. Low and behold I did… $1.75 a pound, and I also got directions from the farmer on how to dry them.
Farmers markets are awesome, did I mention that?
I got home with my bounty and proceeded to wash, dry and slice my ripe but firm Persimmons.
Then I tried a fresh Fuyu Persimmon for the first time. Absolutely divine! They are super sweet and practically melt in your mouth, no astringent qualities at all. The skins have some tannins, but nothing like the Hachiya. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this wonderful seasonal fruit for so long! I think I’ll go back this weekend and get more…
How to dry Fuyu Persimmons
Select fruit that is still firm.
Wash and dry your fruit.
The calyx will not pop off easily on this variety at this stage of ripeness, so use a knife to cut it off with a circular motion.
Then slice into 1/4″ or so slices. There is no core in Persimmons, which makes prep super easy.
Then place your sliced fruit on the dehydrator trays, keeping the slices from overlapping.
Stack your trays, spacing for airflow and start dehydrating! After 7-8 hours, you’ll want to check and rotate your trays because the ones on the bottom will dry faster. At this point, check every hour or so, removing fruit as it reaches dryness.
Dehydrators will probably vary. I have a dinosaur, so mine took almost 24 hours. The farmer at the market told me hers takes 12-15 hours. Check your dehydrator manual and go from there.
Enjoy some of nature’s best candy… and happy holidays!
]]>So, I’m a little behind in planting garlic… I think. I meant to do it last month before the fall window closed, but somehow it is now mid-December! Luckily, I live in a mediterranean climate that is quite forgiving of procrastination. This is actually my first time planting garlic so I’m excited to see how it does. The process is quite straightforward and easy. One thing I found out in research (after I planted of course) was that larger cloves will produce larger bulbs of garlic… go figure.
The variety I planted is Purple Haze, a hardneck heirloom that I got from a friend at the farmers market. It produces large, red skinned cloves that are easy to peel and have a good, spicy zing. It’s only the best garlic I’ve tried so far, no big deal.
Garlic types (adapted from Mother Earth News)
Softneck: grows best where winters are mild; some tolerate cold to Zone 5. Most varieties do not produce scapes (edible curled flower stalks). Softnecks are great for braiding and subtypes include Creole, artichoke and many Asian varieties.
Hardneck: adapts to cold winter climates and produces curled scapes in early summer. Some favorite subtypes are porcelain, purple stripe and rocambole varieties.
Elephant garlic: is closely related to the leek. It produces a large, mild bulb with four to six big cloves and is hardy to Zone 5 if given deep winter mulch.
When to plant
Fall is the best time (after 1st frost where applicable), as fall planted garlic matures faster and produces larger bulbs than spring planted.
How to plant
Separate cloves from the bulb, keeping the papery tunic and basal plate intact on each clove. As with any crop, before planting mix in 1-2″ of mature compost. Plant the cloves with the basal plate down, 2″ deep and 5″ apart. Cover with soil, water in and mulch if desired. The mulching is most important in colder climates.
We’ll see what comes up, and hopefully I’ll have something to post about harvest and storage for you in early summer! If you have any tips or pointers, let me know!
References
https://www.garlicfarm.ca/growing-garlic.htm
http://www.growingformarket.com/articles/how-and-when-to-plant-garlic
http://www.motherearthnews.com/organic-gardening/growing-garlic-zmaz09onzraw.aspx#axzz3Lorw74n9
]]>I spent three hours making jam this afternoon. I had no idea it would take that long, but it’s so delicious that I don’t even care! This is an old-fashioned jam, Joy of Cooking style. No pectin: just fruit, sugar and a little elbow grease. And some sage and lemon.
Some people like the taste of jams with pectin because you don’t have to cook them as long to get them to thicken, but I personally love the depth of flavor you get from the cooking process. My hand is a little tired from stirring though!
You can probably go out and harvest your own, or find a good deal at your farmers market on a flat of overripe berries perfect for jam like I did.
I had to have this while it was still warm with a couple slices of the whole grain sourdough that I picked up at the market as well. It wasn’t quite set up yet, but I couldn’t wait. The sage doesn’t add a strong flavor, just a nice earthy backbone to the sweet tanginess of the berries.
Ingredients
Sterilize 6 pint jars and lids, and keep them warm until needed.
Wash your berries, drain and combine with sugar in a large enamel or stainless steel pan. I like to add a pinch of salt as well. Mix thoroughly, crushing the berries a bit until they’re all juicy and the sugar begins to dissolve.
Add the juice and rind of a halved lemon and 3 large sprigs of fresh sage.
Cook and stir over medium-low heat until sugar is dissolved.
Bring to a boil over medium heat, then simmer and stir from the bottom to keep from sticking and burning.
Continue cooking and stirring until a small amount dropped on a cold plate (I stuck one in the freezer) will hold a bit of shape. Time will depend on many factors, including juiciness and acidity of your berries, but it will be at least 30 minutes. The jam will tell YOU when it’s ready, and trust me it has a mind of its own!
When it is ready, remove from heat and take out the lemon and sage with tongs. Then ladle into jars, wipe the rims and threads clean, put on your lids and process.
This made about 5 1/4 pints for me, which was perfect because I just stuck the 1/4 jar in the fridge to try right away. It was worth all the work; this jam will be a tasty winter treat!
]]>It definitely feels like spring here, with kid goats frolicking in the field and teenage chickens clucking about underfoot in the yard. Local frogs have even moved into the pond. In fact, they’re croaking quite boisterously out there right now.
Since I’ve been getting better at milking, I’ve had some extra milk to play around with and have been starting to try my hand at cheese and yogurt. And let me tell you, I need all the practice I can get. I’m using raw milk for both because I want the full health benefits that you don’t get from pasteurized products.
I’ve now gotten to the point where I’m getting consistent results with pre-measured packets of direct-set mesophilic culture and vegetable rennet. You can buy them on Amazon, along with a variety of cheesemaking books and supplies.
I have had issues with my vegetable rennet, and after a couple of failed attempts, I now use more than the original recipe called for. You may have to experiment with your rennet as well, as age and shipping temperatures can weaken it. Get to know your rennet!
Use a stainless steel pot and stainless or wooden utensils, and always sterilize your equipment before you begin. A digital thermometer is also a must.
I have edited this process as my cheeses improve.
Directions
It’s super light and fluffy and creamy.
]]>We’ve finally gotten used to milking around here. Penelope is giving me a quart every morning now, and it is absolutely delicious. I used to drink goat milk as a kid (no pun intended), but I didn’t remember how it tasted beyond the fact that I liked it. I’ve never liked the store bought homogenized, pasteurized cow milk, so I figured I just didn’t like milk. I also had this idea that goat milk always tasted strong or “goaty.” Nothing is further from the truth! This goat milk is the creamiest, sweetest milk I’ve ever tasted. So, why drink raw goat milk?
1. It tastes good!
2. It’s easier to digest that cow milk. Goat milk has smaller fat globules than cow milk which are more easily digested. It also has a higher proportion of short-chain and medium-chain fatty acids which makes the fat easier to digest.
3. It’s better for allergy sufferers. Goat milk does not cause mucus like cow milk and is better tolerated by those with asthma and allergies.
4. It’s naturally homogenized. Because the fat globules are smaller, they’re naturally mixed up in goat milk. The mechanical homogenization of cow milk causes the enzyme xanthine oxidase to become free, which can enter the vascular system and scar it, setting up ideal conditions for fatty deposits in the arteries.
5. It produces an alkaline reaction. Goat milk leads to an alkaline reaction in the body, like human milk. Cow milk produces an acidic reaction in the body, which is more hospitable for bacteria, fungi and viruses.
6. It contains more medium-chain fatty acids than cow milk. These enhance the immune system and provide energy.
7. It’s higher in vitamins and minerals. Goat milk contains more calcium, Vitamins A and B-6, potassium, niacin, copper and selenium than cow milk. It’s also easier for the body to absorb calcium and iron from goat milk.
8. Raw goat milk contains probiotics. These help populate the gut with beneficial bacteria. Bifidus factor is found in raw goat milk, which promotes the growth of lactobacillus bifidus, the “good” bacteria.
9. It boosts your immune system. The bioactive components of raw milk promote the activity of the immune system and retard the growth of harmful organisms.
10. Many people who are lactose intolerant can drink raw goat milk. This is because the naturally occurring lactase enzyme which digests the lactose is present without pasteurization.
There you have it, no wonder I’ve been feeling so great lately! Keep in mind that it is hard to find raw goat milk in stores due to FDA regulations, so you’ll probably need to find a local farmer to purchase it from. Farm fresh is the way to go for both taste and nutrition. You can also research whether it is right for you and consider getting your own goats!
References
http://www.optimumchoices.com/goat_milk.htm
http://www.naturalnews.com/031586_raw_goats_milk_health.html
http://www.dynamicchiropractic.com/mpacms/dc/article.php?id=38646
Pitchford, Paul. Healing with Whole Foods: Asian Traditions and Modern Nutrition. North Atlantic Books, 2002.
]]>Here I drowsily sit in my living room on a Sunday evening, listening to a drone of crickets and bullfrogs pulsing steadily through the window, punctuated now and then with soft chirps of contented chicks in their brooder.
Getting started with baby chicks is quite simple, but you need to make sure that you’re ready for the commitment and that you’ll be around at least every morning, evening and night to keep an eye on them.
The first step is to construct a brooder before bringing them home. You’ll need:
That’s it! I was able to purchase everything I needed, including the chicks, for around $40. That’s a great investment, considering what they can provide in return.
I started out with a medium box for the first week, then moved up to a bigger container.
For bedding, use about 2″ of pine shavings in the bottom of your brooder. If you’re using a cardboard box, you can put paper bags or something absorbent underneath. Never use bare newspaper, it causes spraddle leg.
Place the heat lamp about 20″ from the bedding, off to one side of the brooder so the chicks have a choice of temperature. Your chicks will be your thermometer. If they’re huddled together under the lamp it means they’re cold and you need to move it closer. If they’re as far away from it as possible it means they’re too hot and you need to raise it. If you want to use a thermometer, start off around 95˚F. You’ll be reducing the heat 5˚ a week (raising the lamp about an inch), until they can go outside.
Next, place your feeder and waterer as far away from the lamp as possible so the water doesn’t get too hot. I’ve also learned it helps to keep the water and food clean if you elevate them on a 2×4 or brick when the chicks are big enough to reach.
When you bring your chicks home, be sure to dip their beaks in the water so they know where to find it.
Chicks are prone to a condition called pasty butt, which mine did have when I brought them home and thankfully I had read about it. This happens when their droppings dry to their rears, which can clog their vents and lead to death. Should this happen, soak their bottoms with a towel dipped in warm water to remove the plug. Then rub a little olive or grapeseed oil on. I found that adding a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar to their water prevented this from happening again.
When your chicks are about 2 weeks old, you can make them a roost about 4″ off the bedding. Here are Henrietta and Penguin testing it out. Happy chickens!
]]>A very interesting looking cabbage caught my eye a couple weeks ago at the Farmers’ Market, it was tall with a pointed head. I’d been wanting to make sauerkraut and it was fate. The rest is history.
Sauerkraut is a great beginning fermentation project, and the result is rewarding and nutritious. It is created through a process called lacto-fermentation. One of the beneficial bacteria found on the surface of cabbage (all fruits and veggies for that matter) and in yogurt and other cultured products is called Lactobacillus. This works under the salty brine to convert the sugars in the cabbage into lactic acid, which in turn inhibits the growth of harmful bacteria and acts as a natural preservative. Not only is the product of this transformation tasty, it also contains healthy probiotics that act as a great digestive tonic.
What do you need to make sauerkraut?
Here’s the step-by-step process:
Of course, start with clean tools and ingredients.
Yep folks, it’s that simple. Check out Sandor Katz’s website Wild Fermentation to learn from the kraut guru who has earned the affectionate nickname Sandorkraut. I also found this post from The Kitchn to be helpful.
A good idea from Sandorkraut: keep a bit of your kraut and brine out to jump-start a new batch with active culture.
Happy krauting!
]]>The holidays are over! They were festive and busy, and now that I’ve been slowed down by some sort of nasty virus that’s going around I finally have the time to think about writing a post. What could be more fitting than comforting, soothing chicken stock? I’m embarrassed to say that I only recently started making my own stocks, after my aunt and grandma both told me how easy it was over Thanksgiving. They’re very simple to make and add such depth and dimension to your soups that once you try, it will be hard to go back to the store bought variety.
Ingredients
Directions
This is THE Holy Grail for everything that calls for broth or stock.
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