The Great October Book Giveaway - Magic in Overlooked Places

The lucky book winners, this round, are:

Johanna L - The Wiccan Wheel Mysteries

Bella S. - pair of poetry books

kgkathands - The Lost Kitchen cookbook

I’ll be in contact with you shortly!

There seem to be some gremilins causing mischief...I’m having some difficulty with my laptop tonight, so the next giveaway will be posted tomorrow (Friday, October 11th). Thank you for your patience!





One of the things I love about magic, is that if you have your finger on the pulse of it - if you recognize that it bubbles up in unexpected places and threads itself through areas commonly overlooked - then you can find enchantment anywhere.

Normally this yearly giveaway is entirely populated with non-fiction books on magic and herbalism, with the occasional sway into witch-art of some form, and a few of the newest tarot or oracle decks I've found. I almost never include fiction or other genres, not because I don't read them or they aren't excellent sorts of books, but the bulk of my writing here at Rue and Hyssop is about my journey through the year in gardens, woods, and witchcraft, and so I generally stick to those themes. This year, however, there were a few authors/books from outside the usual non-fiction fare I offer that made a big impression on me, and I wanted to share them with you. They conjured the feeling that magic was afoot. That the authors were people who noticed the threads weaving the world together, who had touched the live wire of magic in one way or another (even if that's not what they would call it). Each of these books/authors gave me a thrill in some way and I know you'll adore them too.

It was early in the year when I heard about The Lost Kitchen and read the tale of a woman who had her heart broken and her dream crushed, who then found a way to rebuild. I was immediately enraptured by Erin French's journey. I set to searching out her restaurant and how someone might make a reservation (I'd long wanted to visit Maine, where she is located). It turns out that The Lost Kitchen hadn't just enchanted me. They were constantly booked up and still fielding calls for reservations, so they decided to hold a lottery for table seating. Last year twenty thousand postcards arrived on Erin's doorstep - each one a hopeful entry for a chance to eat one of her beautiful meals. (I'll be sending a postcard of my own next year!)

There is something extraordinary about a person who has seemingly lost out on the future they were building, only to discover that they could re-form or re-imagine it and it would unfold in even bigger ways than they could have anticipated. Erin began her 'secret dinners' in her apartment, expanded to a small retail location, was locked out of her dream only to move it into an Airstream trailer, and now cooks with friends for thousands of people each year in an historic mill in Freedom, Maine. Reading her gorgeous cookbook (with her amazing story included) is not just perusing a stack of tantalizing recipes, it's like curling up for tea with a friend that inspires you.

This summer was hard on me. I was knocked down in May and spent much of the following three months trying to keep my spirit light in the midst of heartbreak, funerals, and whatever hellish planetary bullshittery was swirling overhead. My salvation in the scorching months was a lawn chair in the shade in the late afternoon, a cold beverage, and a stack of books. I had a variety of poetry with me at all times, plus folk and fairy tales of every sort. They were what transported me to a quieter place where my mind and heart could find respite.

I was nearing the end of a pile of library books when I found myself thinking, "I need some fun, witchy fiction books to read." And just like magic an email popped into my inbox from Jennifer Hesse introducing herself and her books. I've already grabbed a few of her Wiccan Wheel Mysteries series for myself and I picked up one for you, too. Plus, Jennifer has been kind enough to send along a book for you as well! The series follows Keli Milanni, lawyer and practicing witch, while she navigates her way through assorted mysteries, messes, romances, and her own journey with magic. They were perfect summer reads and I know the two autumn-themed books I've got for you, Autumn Alibi and Samhain Secrets will be excellent for curling up under a blanket with in these cooler nights ahead.

Breakage - Mary Oliver

I go down to the edge of the sea.

How everything shines in the morning light!

The cusp of the whelk,

the broken cupboard of the clam,

the opened, blue mussels,

moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred—

and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split,

dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone.

It's like a schoolhouse

of little words,

thousands of words.

First you figure out what each one means by itself,

the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop

       full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to show some love to the poetry that kept my heart beating this summer. We sadly lost the beloved Mary Oliver in January, but her words live on in her thirty-plus published works. It was the opening lines of "Wild Geese" that completely shifted things for me fifteen years ago, and she still has the ability to make me gasp and sigh "yes!" to her observations of nature and the world. I'm passing along her collection of poems, "Why I Wake Early."

Along with Oliver's book you'll receive a book I brought home from Sleepy Hollow - a collection of captivating poetry from assorted authors, entitled "Poems Bewitched and Haunted."

From the publisher:

From Homer to Horace, Pope to Poe, Randall Jarrell to James Merrill, Poems Bewitched and Haunted draws on three thousand years of poetic forays into the supernatural. Ovid conjures the witch Medea, Virgil channels Aeneas’s wife from the afterlife, Baudelaire lays bare the wiles of the incubus, and Emily Dickinson records two souls conversing in a crypt, in poems that call out to be read aloud, whether around the campfire or the Ouija board. From ballads and odes, to spells and chants, to dialogues and incantations, here is a veritable witches’ brew of poems from the spirit world.

You can see both poetry books on the left side of the first photo in this post.

These three prizes: one amazing cookbook, a pair of fab fiction tomes, and bundle of two dreamy poetry books, contain their own variety of magic and I believe they will find homes with folks who know a thing or two about enchantment. They will be up for grabs until Thursday, October 10th, when I'll draw the names of the winners. Your comment is your entry, and if you should like another chance to win then simply share this post around however you wish and then swing back and let me know. I'll make sure your name goes into the hat again. Alternately, if you are having issues with leaving a comment, or if you'd prefer to enter privately, then you can send your entry via the "make contact" button at the top of the page. (Please note that if your name is drawn, I will be posting it at the top of the giveaway.) Feel free to let me know which prize you'd prefer. I try to match winners and books up, whenever possible.

Legal Bits:

* This giveaway (or "sweepstakes") is open to all residents of Canada, (exluding Quebec residents) the USA, Great Britain, Europe, South America,  who are 18 years of age or older. This giveaway is void where prohitibited by law.  Please be aware of the contest/sweepstakes laws in your area.

*  Canadian residents will be subject to a skill testing question before being able to claim their prize (this is standard law in Canada).  The skill testing question will be in a form similar to: 1 + 2 - 1 =

*  This giveaway is not for profit and no purchase is necessary to enter.

*  This giveaway is sponsored/administrated solely by this blog/blog author and is not affilitated with or sponsored by Blogger, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or any other entity, nor can they be held liable.

* By leaving a comment intending to enter into the draw for the giveaway (or "sweepstakes") you are knowingly agreeing to these rules/conditions.

I have chosen all the books/cards featured this month myself.  I have not been paid to feature a book, nor have I been asked to advertise for anyone.  This giveaway is not endorsed or sponsored by anyone other than Rue and Hyssop.

Pizza for a Kinder Mind

I'm feeling raw and broken-open, of late. It's okay. It's part of being human - being me. I've grown, and have developed healthy ways of softening and easing the panic or despair that rises from my gut and tries to squeeze my chest, lungs, heart. I like this being older. This feeling of still being a feral girl (which is how I feel every day if I don't look too long in the mirror), but having the benefit of experience and whatever small amounts of confidence I've mustered up over the years.

My brain isn't always a friend. It brings up old stories sometimes. It says "they don't like you," or "you'll never fit in," or "your best isn't good enough." It says "that thing you did fifteen years ago is shameful and you should still feel awful about it. Remember. Remember all those mistakes. All those times you should have done better. You should have been better."

Several years ago I began treating that voice like a frightened child. A shivering animal. Talking kindly to it. "Yes, yes, love. I know. You're safe. Shhh." When it won't quiet down, I go for a walk, or go out to the garden, or drive along the lake, or bake something that reminds me of my grandmother.

I'm in love with the scent of yeast. The feeling of dough stretching out and softening between my palms as I knead, makes me soon. Whirling around in the kitchen in the late afternoon while sunlight and sweet breezes dance through the window, is one of my favourite ways to unwind. I speak blessings to the dough, sing or chant to it, and as I go through the ritual of pressing and folding I find that my tension, fear, or anxiety slips away.

I don't purposely set out to eat wheat anymore (when I do bake it’s more often with gluten-free blends or a wheat & grain free ‘flour’) though it finds its way into my world from time to time. The sexy coupling of yeast and wheat is singular - nothing else really smells or feels like it. Sometimes it’s just the only thing I want.

This ridiculously easy thin crust pizza dough is what I've been playing with lately. ‘Pizza for a Kinder Mind’ is a movement I could happily start. Do you have your own tricks to lower the volume of a shit-talking brain? What things happily derail a train of not-so-helpful thoughts, for you?

Quick and Easy Thin Pizza Crust

1 teaspoon of traditional yeast

pinch of sugar

3/4 cup of warm water

1 and 3/4 cups of flour

a pinch of salt

- add the yeast and sugar to the warm water and wait 5 minutes or so for bubbles

- place flour and salt in a bowl, add yeast-water mixture and toss with a fork

- turn out onto floured surface and knead for 5-10 minutes, adding more flour if too sticky

- press dough into a non-stick or greased pan, top with your fave ingredients, bake at 450 for 10-13 minutes

An Evergreen Winter: The Comfort and Protection of Conifers

The snow is falling in such ghostly flakes that I almost need to squint to see it. Each icy star is so tiny that it doesn't so much fall as dance through the air, whirling around me, kissing my nose and cheeks, melting even as it arrives at the very edge of my skin. It's the same sort of teasing weather that our small party of wildcrafters enjoyed in the woods last month at year's end. We made our way across the snowy landscape, seeking out evergreens to keep our homes jolly and stocked with conifer medicine for winter tide.

We were kept company by chickadees, and stalked the foot trails of deer and coyote, and something with larger paws...lynx, perhaps. We set off together, then wandered slightly off course from one another to find our own trees to whisper to. I lingered at a Douglas fir whose large boughs reached toward the place my dog was buried over a decade ago. Her bones are there still, and though I've been reunited with her in dreams over the years I was surprised at the fierce longing I felt while I was standing beside her resting place. I gathered a few small clippings and kept them tucked aside. Some of those fir tips were for tea, and it gave my heart mild comfort to think that I might be rejoining us in the smallest way by ingesting an infusion from a tree that was fed with her body.

I spent some time with Ponderosa pine, happily gathering up sprays of needles and brushing my hand lightly down the bark to collect any loose resin that had dripped the length of the trees. One pine had been scored heavily by a bear, and another next to it had fallen, its standing remains worn smooth by animals using it as a rubbing post.

There was juniper to be had as well, along with merry green wolf lichen, and a few bright red rosehips left on a stand of wild roses. Once our arms were full of our bounty, we found our way back to my friend's cozy kitchen where a pot of soup was warmed. Rum and eggnog was the seasonal aperitif and a delightful assortment of home-fermented foods accompanied the meal. We spoke of herbal medicines and the hard-won victories of our own peace and well being, while we nibbled on roasted apples topped with maple orange whipped cream.



Conifer medicine is good medicine year round, but there is something especially comforting about bringing evergreens inside in the winter months. The traditional scent of the holidays aside, trees in the pine family (Pinaceae) and some of their cypress brethren (Cupressaceae) are chock full of vitamin C and can offer aid in dealing with respiratory issues/infections, making these trees a perfect cold tonic. Anti-inflammatory and diuretic, the needles can also be infused in oil for a pain-easing massage blend for muscle and joints. Taken as tea, in nutrient-rich vinegar, or transformed into a soothing chest rub, pine, fir, and juniper can assist in keeping your body humming along through the coldest season.

In folklore and magic, conifers seem to act as guardian spirits and are especially useful as helpers for healthy and safe home-keeping. Their stories and lore echo the practical application of these stalwart trees by the original inhabitants of the land. Lodgepole pine was employed in home-building for First Peoples, providing the poles for tepees and lodges, and fragrant fir boughs were gathered as bedding and as floor covering.

Juniper has a history of aiding purification work, assisting in the clearing of both real-world pests, such as insects or rodents, and those of a more spectral variety. The fragrant shrub was used as funerary wood in some forest tribes, the smoke offering protective company to the departing soul. Even in fairy tale, juniper is burial chamber and underworld where the dead can be reborn, as the The Juniper Tree story tells. Cedar, and in the west specifically Pacific red cedar (Thuja plicata) was the conifer of choice for coffins and sea-faring vessels and had so many daily uses that it was known as "Mother Cedar" to the Salish peoples.

The south has its own evergreens (the devastating decline of longleaf pine in particular, is worth reading up on) and here too, in southern rootwork and hoodoo traditions, we see pine added to incenses and floor washes for protection and cleansing/clearing work. Cedar is used in work where gentle persuasion is needed, and evergreens in general can be considered money-drawing just by their nature and name.

Hoarfrost on pine, British Columbia

In my own practice the fir, pine, and juniper I collect in the woods before the winter solstice are bound together with words of protection whispered or chanted over the bundle. I often add a sprig of prickly wild rose, the maroon skin of the branches and the deep red hips lending a pop of red to my green swag. Sometimes I'll even attach a cutting of Oregon Grape, which has a decidedly holly-like look to its spiny leaves. This grand bundle will guard my door and household from December through until late January. The neighbours might give a side-eye to my lingering branches, their own holiday decor long put away, but my evergreen guardian is meant for keeping unwanted spirits from stopping by on a winter's eve and the bitter season doesn't begin to loosen its grip around these parts until February dawns.

As I find myself in the last hours of January now, my sentinel swag is retired and the greenery sorted and re-purposed for incense and magic-making. It pleases me to consider that the aromatic smoke of pine and fir wafting from my censer was once the ward at my home's threshold. This previous-incarnation adds an extra note to any clearing or protection work I do with the incense or washes I create with these trees. (While I might add juniper and cedar to a clearing incense blend, they are more often utilized in my ancestor practices.) If your practice follows seasonal or wheel-type observations, the arrival of Imbolc or Candlemass marks the traditional burning of Yule greens. Generally, these greens would not remain in the household after this point as to keep them indoors would be to invite in poor luck. I burn a small selection of my conifer branches in my fire bowl as a tribute to the passing season, and put the rest up in glass jars for future use.

I truly hope you have weathered your winter beautifully. Perhaps you've found comfort in hygge, coziness and good company, or you've ventured out to ski runs or sledding hills. If you didn't save your holiday greens for Imbolc bonfires or incense, don't fret. Soon, bright green fir tips hinting of citrus will emerge with the coming of spring and you can find new ways to enjoy conifer medicine and magic!


*Please note that conifers can irritate the kidneys with continual use. Please research and know your pines/fir/junipers/cedars before imbibing them (a good field guide or local forestry website will be of great help). Junipers and some pines are not recommended while pregnant or breast-feeding.


Articles and Recipes for reveling in conifers:

Gathering and Processing Conifers, from Rebecca at Thorn & Wonder

Incense crafting, from Sarah Anne Lawless

Evergreen salt scrub, from Rosealee de la Foret at Learning Herbs

Juniper berry spiced cookies, from Danielle at Gather

Foraging for Pine needles, from Colleen at Grow, Forage, Cook, Ferment

A Midwinter Herbaria, from Becky at Blood and Spicebush (Pine is mentioned)

I have another small batch of my conifer oil, bottled and listed in my shop, ready to take home.


Sources:

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (specifically the chapter "Old-Growth Children" in which she speaks of cedars)

Edible and Medicinal Plants of Canada, Lone Pine
(Lone Pine produces beautiful field guides)

The Old Magic of Christmas, Linda Raedisch (chapter 12, specifically "Juniper")

The Untold History of Healing, Wolf D. Storl (chapter 2, specifically "Juniper")

USDA Ponderosa Pine guide

A Toast to Spring: Rhubarb Whiskey Sour

Yesterday, as I walked though my little town, I became light-headed with the scents of spring. Every tree and shrub seemed to have exploded into shameless bloom almost overnight, and the air was heady with sweetness. The days have warmed considerably and the peas and lettuces I placed, with petitions of strength to weather the frosts, in my garden not quite a month ago, have shot up through the earth and are happily drinking in the sun and occasional moisture.

While I was partaking of my first iced coffee of the season at my friend's cozy shop, a woman came in with a basket of rhubarb. Grown in a spot perfect for catching sunlight, her rhubarb was already rapidly producing, and she had come to share her first harvest. (My own plant is still in its alien stage, pushing creepy, red pod-like growths out of the earth.) My friend and I looked at each other and started gleefully listing the things we might do with the fruit (which is truly a vegetable) and after discussing my mother's rhubarb muffin recipe and assorted compotes and sauces, our minds turned to alcohol (as they do).

Rhubarb lore ~ serving a piece of rhubarb pie to your love will ensure their fidelity.

As we had already arranged a gathering of the wild ones last night, and our farmer friend was bringing samples of last autumn's corn for us to taste and vote on the best variety, we thought the beverage of the evening should be something that celebrates spring and contributed to the theme of locally grown ingredients. It was obvious that we should make rhubarb whiskey sours.

They turned out divinely. They were sweet and tart, and perfect in every way. I believe it should be the drink of the season. Even my friends who do not partake of whiskey, swooned over this libation.

Rhubarb lore ~ hanging rhubarb leaves over your grape or cucumber vines will repel insects that might damage your crop.

Jen's note: I'm not sure how well this would work, being that my rhubarb leaves get mercilessly chewed by grasshoppers, but I imagine that worms and other pests with less hearty appetites could not stomach the poisonous leaves (they contain oxalic acid which is corrosive and can cause kidney damage).

Rhubarb Whiskey Sour

Ingredients:

On Shortbread

This morning a malaise struck, and while I took care of myself with herbal tea and minerals, I yearned for some old, familiar comfort. When I'm terribly sick, bone broth and pillows are my usual choice of nurturing, but today's odd ache called for a spell of baking.

There is something about a warm kitchen and the scent of a sweet creation being conjured up, that soothes me. I have many happy memories of helping my mother bake, or being in my grandmother's kitchen while she whirled about.

Today I pulled out my grandmother's shortbread recipe, written in my mother's hand - well used and loved.  It's a simple recipe, usually made from memory, and often only at Christmastime.  I don't know why the family only makes it once a year. I spoke with my aunt tonight and she gasped at my making it. "All that butter" were her exact words.

Should you too decide to toss your cares about butter to the wind, here is my grandmother's simple recipe:

1 cup of butter, softened
1/2 cup of fruit sugar
2 cups of unbleached flour

English, Scottish, and Irish shortbread are similar. There are untold variations, not just from people to people, but even among family members. All involve butter, sugar, flour. You can use the exceptional Irish butter if you can find it, or true Amish butter, but good-quality, regular butter is perfect too. If your butter is unsalted, add a pinch of salt to the recipe.

We use "fruit" or "berry" sugar which is simply a finer grade of sugar than regular granulated. Regular sugar works too, or you can pulse it in a food processor a few times to make it a bit more fine. Scottish shortbread sometimes calls for brown sugar.

Cream butter with sugar and then add flour 1/2-1 cup at a time, kneading with your hands until the dough starts to crack.

Roll the dough and place in a pan or a cookie mold, or roll into balls and flatten - whatever rocks your shortbread socks.

Cookies - bake 350 degrees for approx 12 minutes
Bars - bake 350 degrees for approx 20 minutes

I am told that it's all about the hand-kneading, with shortbread.  Once I've got my butter and sugar together (I use a pastry cutter) I get in there.  In the pictures below, the top-right photo is the dough as I am adding flour. It gets a bit crumbly at first - keep kneading!

The picture on the left shows the dough "cracking." Again, it depends on which family member you ask, but kneading takes 5-10 minutes or until you are foolishly bored. I spent the time thinking of my grandmother - I'm sure that is why the cookies taste so good.

I opted for the quickie-cookie route, but you can do whatever you like when the dough is ready. It is more traditional to press the dough into a pan or roll it out, and carve it into bars.

I'm a stickler when it comes to baking time. The perfect shortbread is slightly golden on the bottom - not brown. Don't overcook your shortbread - you want it to melt in your mouth when you eat it.

Today, January 25th, also happens to be Scotsman Robert Burns' birthday. Raise a glass of whisky then, or a cup of milk, and enjoy a bit a shortbread with me. We sung his "Auld Lang Syne" just over three weeks ago, and now let's leave off with his "Grace After Dinner."

O Thou, in whom we live and move,

Who mad'st the sea and shore,

Thy goodness constantly we prove,

And grateful would adore.

And if it please thee, Pow'r above,

Still grant us with such store;

The Friend we trust; the Fair we love;

And we desire no more.

Crafting Blooming Howls - Incense for Autumn Nights

I am, like that white rabbit, almost perpetally running (and often a bit behind) but I am sneaking in just before midnight to play along with Magaly, the wickedly wonderful hostess of Pagan Culture, at her "Witches in Fiction: Crafting Blooming Howls" party.  There is a dark and lovely bouquet of posts over there to peruse if you enjoy seeing what crafty witches get themselves up to when a blog party arises.

As for my craft, I'm always inspired by the world around me - especially the hills, rivers and plant life in my delightful Valley. Although the Autumn colours have taken their sweet time arriving (we've had a remarkably sunny and warm September and October) they are starting to flash some crimson and orange here and there.  The last of the herb harvests have just come in and are hanging to dry and I'm starting to play and create some of my favourite concoctions.

Today I'm sharing one of my swoon-worthy incense recipes.  I make this incense each Autumn and burn it to evoke the smoky, sweet, earthy scent of deep Fall when the gardens are put to bed and the last over-ripe apples are dropping from the trees, and the scent of woodsmoke is in the air.

Autumn Incense

1 part benzoin tears

1 part juniper berries

2 parts frankincense tears

1/2 part cedar greens

1 part sandalwood

Use a mortar and pestle to break down the ingredients into the desired consistency.

You can be finished at this step, or

I like to add a drizzle of local honey or wine at this point,

 to wet the incense and make it stick together.

I let the coarse incense dry over a two-week period, turning often. Burn on lit charcoal.

Definitely burn this incense when wandering through the garden with your witchy friends, drinking midnight margaritas.  And don't forget to howl!

Wild Rosehip Syrup

There are a few things that can make even the most stalwart summer-lover feel glad about the waning sun. One of those miracles is the wild fruit that is offered up just before autumn arrives, found in all the unruly places.  I have discovered abandoned lots that house shaggy crab-apple trees, grapevines left to wander over fences and grow down into alleyways and walking paths, and huge stands of wild rose that grow all over the valley hills.  The elderberries show off their dusty blue fruit now, teasing from just beyond my reach, and I've spotted several unruly apple trees from long-forgotten orchards still valiantly offering up their bounty.

While on a walk in the hills with a dear friend this week, we came upon a very large stand of wild roses that were boasting bright red hips.  My nieces have been complaining about scratchy throats lately, so I harvested a small amount of the vitamin C-packed fruit and headed home to make syrup.

Simple Rosehip Syrup

Wash rosehips, and remove ends and any damaged/spotted portions

I use a  1-2 -1 ratio:

1 cup of rosehips

2 cups of water (plus an extra splash)

1 cup of sugar or honey

Bring rosehips and water to a boil in a pot

Turn water down to a simmer and mash rosehips

Let simmer 30 minutes and remove from heat 

 Strain rosehip mash and return liquid to pot

Add sugar (or honey) and return to a boil

Let simmer until syrup thickens 30-40 mins or more

Store in sterilized jars in the fridge for 4-6 months

To "keep the doctor away" I have my girls take a tablespoon once a day, especially now that they are heading back to school.  I want their immune systems working well when they are sitting in a building with recycled air and multiple kids with colds.  The syrup is so good though, I have no trouble convincing them to use it.

If syrup isn't your thing (and you don't like it on pancakes or ice cream, and you are a monster of some kind) then you can harvest rosehips to make jelly, herbal teas, wine or cordials, or even infuse them in oil for a gorgeous (and astringent) facial oil.

Are you finding delights in your neck of the woods?  Do you hop your neighbour's fence in the night and "borrow" peaches?  Do you have a hog that is truffle-trained?  Do tell - I love hearing all about the (mostly legal) wild harvesting you are up to!

Last Harvest Corn Chowder

My friend grew corn at her ranch again this year. I don't know the variety, but I can tell you that it was the sweetest corn I've ever tasted.  It was so good that you could eat it off the cob, standing right there in the field if you wanted to. It tasted like candy.

We had several corn-on-the-cob feasts this summer.  My friend created a tequila-lime butter that we coated the hot corn in.  We sounded like a pack of wild animals while chewing on those cobs.

I took some corn home too, and messed around with corn fritter recipes and then settled into a pot of corn chowder that I wish had been triple the size so I'd have some in the freezer to take out and eat now.  I don't even know if chowder freezes well.  I'd have tried it though.

When I make soup, I toss a handfull of this and that in the pot, and hope for the best.  If you've noticed the few recipes I post here, they are very easy.  I'd love to be a Martha - but I'm more of a simple Sally.

I'll try and lay out this chowder recipe - as best as I can describe it.  I do hope you have put away some farm fresh corn from your local grower, but even if you don't have a freezer full of little bags of corn, a can will do in a pinch.  Or check your farmers market - I was at mine yesterday and saw some late harvest corn still for sale.

Late Harvest Corn Chowder

3 cups chicken or veggie stock                            3 slices bacon

1 small can coconut milk                                     3 large potatoes

1 cup heavy cream                                             1 large sweet onion

1 tbsp oil or butter                                              1.5-2 cups corn

1-2 tbsp flour and butter for roux                           (Added veggies to your liking - see below)

Salt, pepper, thyme - season as you like

In a stock pot, cook bacon until done, but not too crispy, and set aside.
Pour off bacon fat except one teaspoon.
Add one tablespoon of butter or oil to the bacon fat in the pot and cook onions until transparent.
Add chicken stock, potatoes, corn, and any other veggies you like in a chowder.  I added one small sweet potato (not a yam) and several sweet, golden beets.  I also added a small amount of salt, pepper and thyme here - but I perfect the seasoning at the end of a soup - so I kept my seasoning here at a minimum.
I add the bacon back at this point, ripped into small pieces.  Some folks add the bacon at the end, but I like it to infuse into the chowder for a longer period of time.
Add coconut milk.  It will appear to separate, but don't be concerned - it blends beautifully as the soup cooks.

Slowly bring to a boil and then lower the temp and let simmer for 10-20 minutes until potatoes are tender.

Add the cream and continue to simmer until the soup thickens.  You can omit the cream and thicken in one of the ways listed below too.

At this point, there are a few ways to thicken your chowder.  Some folks just add flour or cornmeal, but I'm not a fan of that method.  I prefer to cool down the soup a bit, and then blend a few cups of it in a blender and then add that back to the pot.

If the chowder is still not thick enough, I make a small amount of roux.  I take one or two tablespoons of flour (I used coconut flour this time and it worked perfectly) and the same amount of butter and mixed it and toasted it in a frying pan for 5-10 minutes on low heat (just until it starts to smell a bit warm and nutty.)  I added this to the soup and brought the soup temperature back up (not to a boil) and it thickened nicely.

And that's it.  You're done.  Season as you like.  Salt, pepper, thyme, and a nice teaspoon of tandoori spice is what I added to mine.  I like a bit of warmth to my soup, so the tandoori spice was a must for me.  I cheat, and buy it from Epicure, but you can make your own mix.

A happy and hearty feast to you!

The Longest Days, The Loveliest Nights

"Mine is the month of roses; yes, and mine

The month of marriages!  All pleasant sights

And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,

The foliage of the valley and the heights.

Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;

The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;

I am the mother of all dear delights;

I am the fairest daughter of the year."

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

How strange that where there were blossoms a moment ago, there are now cherries.  Where there was spinach just reaching for the sun, there is now an empty row after the grand harvest.

The days blaze by and the rains have left good, rich growth, and now the sky clears and the sun heats up The Valley.  Each morning starts with a walk through the garden beds, weeding here and there, picking this and that.  Making mental notes: dry the peppermint for tea before it gets too leggy in the heat...tincture the skullcap...the mugwort is looking good - she'll be ready to harvest soon... 

There is a sage-pick coming up, yarrow to collect for my healing salve, and a faerie class to organize.  Midsummer is coming fast and I've got to plan a bit of a fete for the fae as well - they do take very good care of my gardens, after all!


Here are a few of my favourite early summer things:

~  The rhubarb is ready for a first harvest.  Mom's rhubarb muffins are drool-worthy - there are some of these in my future!


~  When I can sneak away for an afternoon nap, I've been hitting the shade in the hammock.  Fresh air and a quick, sweet sleep makes for a happy gardener.


~  I've been messing about with salt scrubs for weary feet.  This one is my new go-to scrub when I get home and kick off the flip flops:

*I eyeball this recipe, but these measurements should work - adjust as you like*

1/2 cup sea salt
1/4 cup coconut oil
2 tablespoons of sweet almond oil
3 drops essential oil of peppermint (or more if you like a stronger scent)
3 drops essential oil of lavender

Scrub feet, especially heels, and rinse.  Pat dry - your feet will be SO soft!


~  Books, books, books...  Haven't you heard that a book and a glass of sun-tea are the best cure for the heat?  Mix up a good selection of your fave authors, some interesting or inspiring non-fiction, and a smutty book for good measure.  (You know the summer is the best time to read the naughty books!)

Here's a peek at some of the books in my summer stack (and coming soon to the stack.)

The Conjure Workbook - Star Casas

Joyland - Stephen King

The Boreal Herbal: Wild Food and Medicine Plants of the North - Beverly Gray

Make Magic of Your Life - T. Thorn Coyle

Fun, magical and super-fast reads:

The Psychic Eye Series by Victoria Laurie

The Bewitching Mysteries by Madelyn Alt

I can't even recommend a good smutty book. Are there good ones?  (Please don't say 50 Shades.) I usually just hit the bestseller rack and flip through a few and grab the one that makes me blush in the aisle of the store.  The last time I did that though, I ended up yelling: Can you even DO that?  I'm sure that's not legal ANYWHERE!  My friend moved to another aisle quickly.  I bought the book.


Whatever trouble or bliss you get into this month, I hope June blossoms into something quite lovely for you!

Sweet Dandelion

My never-ending love affair with dandelion had me making a gorgeous, sweet syrup last week.

There seem to be a handful of different ideas on how this is done.  I read about a dozen recipes and then decided to wing it.  Here's what happened:

I picked a ridiculous amount of dandelion flowers and then separated the yellow petals out.  Several recipes mentioned that the bitterness of any green portion of the dandelion will give a bite to the syrup.  I have since found that this is not really the case.  My friend the Eco Diva has been making a ton of syrup and used the entire flower head.  I tasted her version and it was lovely.

My Version:

1 good cup of dandelion petals
3 cups of water

Bring water and petals to a boil in a pot and then turn off heat, cover and let steep overnight.
The next day, pour the dandelion infusion through cheesecloth or an unbleached coffee filter.

Return infusion to your pot, add a few slices of lemon and orange.  Bring to a slow boil and then remove the citrus.  Add 1 cup of honey and simmer until the syrup thickens. (About 1.5-2 hours)

Pour into sterilized jars and enjoy!

Eco Diva's version:

250 dandelion heads plus 4 cups of water to create your infusion.
The next day (after straining) add citrus slices or cinnamon & clove to the infusion.
Bring to a soft boil and then remove the citrus or cinnamon.
Add 2 lbs raw cane sugar & simmer 2 hours until thickened.

After spending an hour removing petals, I like the idea of using the entire heads.  I'm going to try her version this week.

Now that dandelion flower season is here, get out there and pick like crazy.  The smaller leaves are wonderful in salads.  The flower heads can be used fresh or dried in tea blends or infused in oil and used as a lymph massage oil (great for breast health!)  Even the milky sap is said to remove warts and corns if applied topically.  (I've not tried it - let me know if it works.)

There is no reason not to go out and enjoy those lovely yellow flowers in your yard.  Happy picking!

A Dickens of A Yule

"There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of cold roast, and there was a great piece of cold boiled, and there were mince-pies, and other good cheer."

For my part in The Witches Yuletide Ball blog party, I'm going to read you a story...  Well...bits of a story.  Because this is a tale you should read yourself.  Preferrably snuggled in under a blanket and sipping a hot cocoa.

If you've been following my blog for any length of time and happened by here at Yule, you'll no doubt have heard me sing the praises of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.  Reading this story is a yearly ritual for me, ever since I happened upon this worn treasure at a flea market about a dozen years ago.

Oh sure, I had seen the movie adaptations.  The original is a classic and a must-see, although I'm rather partial to the Muppets version with Michael Cain as Scrooge.  But this story truly stole my heart when I read that old English prose with my nose in a tattered old school book.

The book bears a copyright of 1915 inside and has a handwritten note on the first page that says "Norman Latimer Grade 7."  I wonder if Norman enjoyed this story as much as I do.

One of my many favourite paragraphs is this one, when the second spirit takes Scrooge out into the town on Christmas day and he witnesses the abundance of the season:

"The poulterers' shops were still half open, and the fruiterers' were radiant in their glory.  There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence.  There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spanish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish friars, and winking from the shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe."

"Apoplectic" means "intense enough to threaten or cause apoplexy" (apoplexy is a stroke.)  There are pages in this story of such description, especially in respect to the second, rather robust, spirit's visit that are apoplectic themselves.  The text is dreamy and delicious and just reading it makes me hungry!

I decided that I should have my own little bit of apoplectic opulence in honour of the blog party.  I suppose chestnuts and Spanish onions would have been healthier than wine, jelly beans, caramel corn, chocolate and spiced pecans, but a girl's got to make do!

And here is a recipe, for the "Negus" that you see listed in the foods in the first quote at the top of the post.  Although Negus is a name for Egyptian royalty, in this case, it's a hot drink made with port and lemons.

Dickens' Negus

1 bottle of port
1 lemon
2 teaspoons sugar
1 cup boiled water
freshly grated nutmeg

Heat the port on the stove, but do not let it boil.  Peel the lemon carefully and add the peel (outer peel only, not the white pith) to the port.  Juice the lemon and add the juice.  Add the sugar and stir until it dissolves.  Remove from heat and remove lemon peel (strain, if necessary.)  Add the cup of boiling water and stir well.  Serve with freshly grated nutmeg on top!

"He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted the children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure."

Just as Scrooge found pleasure in all the sights of the season, I hope you too, will find pleasure this Yule, Hanukkah or Christmas, or whatever celebration you participate in!

"His own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him."