Thursday, July 17, 2014

Farm Day: Little Red Bird Botanicals - Late Spring


 Visiting the garden for the first time with Holly had been so magical and inspiring that I was sure I would be zipping around the beltway once a week to sit and chat and pull a few weeds. 
Weeks passed and time spent at Centro Ashe and Arcadia along with day to day life found me pulling into a spot in the gravel lot at Clagett almost a month after my first visit. 

What had changed? What progress had I missed?

Remember the chamomile seedlings from the last visit?


Well into May spring was quickly slipping into summer and the plants had shot up in my absence, as they do. We rummaged around in the greenhouse together, Holly fretting over plants that had languished a bit, making a mental list of the "must plant today" and the "sorry maybe later"specimens. 


Bitter melon fell to the "must plant today" list so we found some seats on the ground near the bed and started digging shallow holes for the seedlings. Bitter melon, like all bitter foods, can be used to stimulate bile production and treat things like constipation and sluggish digestion. It also has uses for lowering blood sugar for diabetics as well as treating skin diseases and even cancer and HIV/AIDS. 

As we planted I asked questions about the plants like "What will the next phase of this plant look like?" Holly answered me in her slow, measured way, never really breaking focus from her planting but occasionally demonstrating shapes with her hands and throwing quick glances my way to gauge me comprehension. 



The passionflower (above) had wound its way out of the ground since my last visit and was preparing to flower while the baptista (below) was only days away from sending out her little purple flags.



Goldenseal (Hydrastis Canadensis) is one of those plants that warms the herbalist's heart when it's seen growing in a garden. Long over harvested and over wildcrafted, the yellow thready rhizome of this palmate beauty is used to treat a myriad of illnesses and infections but it's popularity has put it on the list of rare and at risk plants. Even our own neighboring wildernesses like Monogahela National Forest in West Virgina no longer sells permits for collection because the herb has become even scarcer than American Ginseng. In the summer goldernseal sends up a fruit very similar to a raspberry with a cluster of thirty some seeds. 


"What else is particularly lovely this time of year?" I asked. Holly thought for a minute. 
"Horseradish!" she shouted over to me. "Soon it will be all chewed up and bug ridden and since I only harvest the root there is no sense in trying to combat them so it starts to look much less photogenic the further in the to season you get." 

Horseradish with its easily identifiable long, rippling leaves. 


The peonies that had been little alien stumps rising from the earth on my first visit had produced bulbous head and sweet nectar dripped from the lining of the bulb that the ants greedily collected.  



For our last little task for the day we harvested Stinging Nettle (Urtica dioica) which grows all along a fence line down the gravel path from Holly's plot. We grabbed paper bags and leather palmed gloves and some shears and walked down to the patch, scaring a mole back into his hole as we approached.

"I never mind the sting much. If you do get stung you may notice a tingling later, like your hand fell asleep, and I always have to remind myself it's because I got stung earlier. It fades pretty fast after the initial sting. I used to cook them to get the sting out but I've found even just tossing them in a blender does the trick," Holly explained as she snipped away and I tentatively took my first go at it. 

We hewed our way down the line.
 "I always feel a little bad, I basically come in and decapitate all the male plants here. So I like to come back later in the season and just kinda say hey and give them some attention to let them know I don't just come to cut them down."

"How do you know they are males?"

"Well that's kinda complicated really and I didn't know it at first but suffice it to say that now I know that those over there," she pointed to the stand growing along the fence running perpendicular to the fence we stood bent over, "are the females and these are the males. So I usually take from the males and leave the females to reproduce." 

All these things I never had considered….


As we walked back towards the cars she pointed out the Wild Choke Cherry 
(Prunus virginiana).
 "Those blossoms won't be around for much longer but then we'll get the berries. Most people don't like them because they're so sour but I eat them."

"You can eat any fruit it it's made into a jam,"I thought to myself, making special note of the other characteristics of the tree for future identification.


I wonder what summer will bring? 

Friday, June 27, 2014

Exploring Home: Stabler-Leadbeater Apothecary Museum


Centro Ashe has been opening up a whole new pathway in life for me to joyfully skip down. My head whips back and forth at stoplights marveling at the stands of roadside echinacea, I'm cultivating new acquaintances in my garden like motherwort and hyssop, I'm kneeling in stranger's front yards and on sidewalk cracks trying to identify new plants and now a whole new genera of museums has come to my attention.
 And luckily I have one in my own backyard.

The Stabler-Leadbeater Apothecary has been here the whole time. In fact it's been here almost as long as Alexandria itself - starting in 1792 and running till 1933. 

As we toured the apothecary with it's glass bottles full of magically colored powders, tiny crystal vials and heavy wooden drawers full of herbs I couldn't help but daydream about a modern apothecary. A renascence of people using whole plants to support their lives. Beautiful shops full of gorgeous tinctures and salves and teas and a marble soda fountain.

This used to be the norm. 











As you climb the stairs to the room with floor to ceiling drawers, all hand painted with herbal names, you can't help but feel like you've stepped into a Harry Potter story with drawers like Mandrake Root, Unicorn Root and Dragon's Blood Reeds. 




The tour is a quick 30 minutes and winds through the wholly unchanged two floors of the apothecary. Even the powders and liquids still smudged into bottles are original from the 1930's when the apothecary shut its doors. The docent carries an iPad with pictures of herbs pulled up to show you what Unicorn Root actually looks like and to pull up lists of herbal actions for the inquisitive herbalist visitor. 


105 -107 South Fairfax Street 
Alexandria, VA 22314 
703 - 746 - 3852

Tours start at 15 till or 15 after the hour.
Admission is $5


Spring Bowl Trolls

Bok Choy Tomato Soup with Chickpeas and Quinoa 

I started cooking at home. A lot. Every meal. For about a month. 

It was exhausting and invigorating at the same time. 

Really it was kinda inspiring to see what I could come up with, what I could enjoy. At the time I had a lot of restrictions in my diet. 
Crazy restrictions like no sugar, no yeast, no fungus, no grains. 
Do you know how many foods have yeast in them? Did you know things like peanuts are a no go on this diet because they reproduce by fungus? Vinegar is a produced by yeast? Crackers have sugar in them?! Grains ferment in your stomach and feed the yeast/fungus?
WHAT?!

My breakfast in particular went to very strange, savory new places.
And through it all I documented and Instagramed (@quinoaween) and someone pointed out that I had a lot of bowls on my feed and that I should name my little chapter of Instagenre.

And so I named it Bowl Troll. 

As I eventually eased back into the world of eating out  I kinda stuck with my plant heavy bowls though and its been an amazing learning experience to think so very thuroughly about what I put into my body and what I don't. 

Flax Drizzled Green Beans and Japanese Sweet Potato Cakes

Buckwheat Cabbage Noodles with Crushed Macadamia 

Life Alive Bowl with Tahini Dressing and a Green Juice

Red Cabbage Tahini Bowl and One Strawberry 

Lemon Dill Wild Rice Stuffed Pepper

Artichoke Soup and Crusted Tofu Salad

Sneaky Spinach Chocolate Smoothie

Purple Paprika Miso



Thursday, June 5, 2014

Where to Eat Vegan: The Holy Donut - Portland, Maine


The Holy Donut is a pretty inconspicuous looking place. I drove by it with the wistful memory of donut sugar sweetness floating through my brain and gloomily thought "none for me."
But as I parked around the corner on Mellen Street at my home away from home, just a few minutes walk from The Holy Donut I couldn't help but let a spark of optimism induce me to google: 
The Holy Donut Portland Maine Vegan.

Low and behold: RESULTS!

Not only do they have vegan donuts but they have special Maine potato vegan donuts made with unbleached flour and organic cane sugar with frostings dyed and flavored with fruits and vegetables and REAL things. 

I walked in and breathed deep the smells of berry glaze, fresh grapefruit juice and bubbling dough wafting from behind the scenes and parked myself at the window with a cinnamon sugar donut that had been handed to me moments before with a triumphant "Yep, it's vegan."

Enter - the moistest, softest donut I've yet to taste. Perfect.


Leigh Kellis and her father are the masterminds behind The Holy Donut and they work beside their crew daily making hand cut and rolled potato donuts.

Call ahead to reserve a box of vegan donuts because the cinnamon sugar (the standard on the menu that is always vegan) goes fast. Call 24 hours in advance and you can get customized frostings to spice things up! Gluten Free options are also popping up on the menu so everyone can enjoy the goodness.

The Holy Donut

194 Park Avenue, Portland Maine
207-874-7774

OR 

7 Exchange Street, Portland Maine
207-775-7776

Monday, May 12, 2014

What to do in Portland: Evergreen Cemetery


I really love a good cemetery. 
The quiet winding paths, the chirping birds, the tangible, gritty lives buried right below your feet. 
So when John suggested a trip to Evergreen Cemetery I grabbed my camera and followed along. 

The grounds are gorgeous and lush and the headstones are lovingly swaddled in shrubbery and we enjoyed a long walk until we came upon a gravestone that read Gelineau. Christopher, whose side of the tombstone held his dog tags, died on April 20th, 2004. A year and a few days later Lavinia, his wife was buried next to him. 

We sat before their gravestone, peeking into the glass box that held clues to their lives and possibly their deaths and speculated. A clay sailboat, wedding pictures, a heart shaped crystal.
 He must have died in the war. But what happened to her? 

I googled his name and found his story: a bomb in Iraq, as we had suspected. The story went on to talk about how Lavinia had played the guitar and sung their favorite song at his funeral.
John and I sat and tried to imagine having the strength to play music at our spouse's funeral.
How could such a strong woman have committed suicide a year later?

We delved deeper into google as the sun warmed our backs and we stretched out in front of Chris and Lavinia.
"Oh wow…."
That's all I could say when I found the story. 
A year after her husband's burial, her estranged father had come for a visit and had strangled Lavinia before hanging himself. 

We sat stunned, staring up into the sky. 

Cemetery's can be sombre. I suspect for most people they are. The thought of death is uncomfortable. Repressed. But I can't help but feel like there is something about walking among the dead that can give strength and gratitude to the living and in that moment John and I could think of nothing but the good fortune we had been afforded. 


So many other headstones hint to untold stories. 
What happened to Lucy H Shefley and who is Mother?

But if the mystery doesn't lure you in the fresh air surely should. Headstone after headstone was coated in luxurious carpets of orange lichen - what my budding naturalist brain suspects is possibly the elegant sunburst lichen, or more correctly - Xanthoria elegans.

John pointed out the lichen in praise of Portland's superior air quality - and while he isn't wrong that lichen grow attached to pure air destinations, that's only true for some lichen. 
Xanthoria elegans, if that is what this is, is actually so resistant to pollution and severe conditions that it has been tested and vetted as a survivor of outer space simulations. 

But really it's just beautiful to see such a pop of color on cold stone.




Friends of Evergreen Cemetery is a group that has dedicated their time to preserving the beautiful grounds of the cemetery and they have an active calendar of history tours and garden walks for the public. The city of Portland itself has a really impressive cache of urban trails on their Trails.org website and they have a suggested walking tour of Evergreen Cemetery complete with hours, bus routes and possible activities for each hike. 


If there is any tombstone you cannot miss it's Edmund J. "Taz". I may be a sucker for old dilapidated, half worn headstones but this headstone is just amazing.


Evergreen Cemetery
372 Stevens Avenue 
Ground Hours: 7am - 4:30pm
Office Hours: 7 am - 3:30 pm 


Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Things to do in Portland, Maine: Gilsland Farm Audubon Center



Traveling alone is not only liberating in a cripplingly social way, its also sometimes just necessary for me. Who else wants to get up on their "vacation" to hang out with strangers and watch birds? 

Wherever I travel now I'm sure to scout out nature centers and arboretums and I was lucky enough to land upon Gilsland Farm - Portland's Audubon Center and they just happened to be having a birding walk that Thursday morning of my trip. 

As I pulled into the parking lot I spied a tiny gathering of birdies, bundled and swathed against the wind, hugging their binoculars tight. They looked up curiously as I stepped out of the car. 
"Is she lost?" I could feel them thinking. 

I don't know if it's a lack of patience that seems to naturally push youth from the scene. Or perhaps the intimidation of trained eyes and ears that soar to identifications quicker than one's fingers can type out a Google. Or is it just a lost art, like so many others, that has slipped from the forefront as technology took center stage, usurping sticks and stones, in the lives of youth?
Whatever the case, you can't help but feel a little out of your element when you show up to your first birding walk. All the bells and whistles of a bingo game don't even begin to compare to how disorientingly seductive this art they call birding can be to the uninitiated. 


I sidled up to the tiny group and acted nonchalant as I waited for the magic to unfold. 
They noticed.

"Oh just visiting. I go somewhere new every month and this month it's Portland," I explained, smiling weakly back at the surprised stare I received. "No I don't have any binoculars, this is kinda my first time doing this." I stomped my feet for warmth and again cursed my decision to come to Portland over the welcomingly warm arms of the lower laying lands down the coast. 

"Well we've actually got a nice little group out today, this is great," came a voice from behind us. I turned to see another fledgling join the group, his plumage still youthful and vibrant against the peppered whites and grays of the rest of the group. 

"Our fearless leader," one of the gray's quipped, "last week it was just the two of use out here and it was colder than today. Let's see how long we all last today."

Fearless leader? He can't be any older than I am! How did he happen to master this retiree ridden past-time before acquiring achey joints and a walking stick?


Doug led us through the woods and out to the first blind where he panned the scope out over the water.
Mergansers, Buffleheads, Goldeneyes, Double Crested Cormorants - despite the frosted temperatures the count started to climb and more bizarre, outlandish names were called out and the scope swung and trained quickly under Doug's direction.

As with anything, the first time is always a bit harry, a bit awkward. As I looked through the scope I asked questions to help establish some parcel of association for my brain to form a memory around.
"So the mergansers are the ones with the bad hair day?"I asked.
The woman next to me laughed, "I hadn't thought of it that way but yes," she replied. 

"So you're here all alone?" she asked as we followed Doug and the scope to the next spot. 
I imagine she inaccurately but endearingly perceived me as a duckling on my first adventure away from home pond.  We walked and chatted about the benefits of ample free time and hobbies that require that life. 

"Oh look out there in the grass. A Flicker. Didn't expect to see him today!"
The speckled dot flit and fluttered away from the scope before I could see him. 
Patience and acceptance are truly honed virtues in this trade. 
My feeble attempts to photograph a bird through the scope resulted in an artful bum shot. 

Eventually we wound completely around the grounds and back to our cars and my first taste of professional list making and ear bending was at a close. 


Bittersweet - Celastrus orbiculatus 



Judy, my walking companion

Check out the Center and walk the beautiful grounds if you ever make it to the Portland area. 
Doug and his followers walk to trails every Thursday morning from 7 to 9am.

20 Gilsland Farm Road, Falmouth, ME
207-781-2330