In between the April showers that we are blessed with in June, the odd clement day lends itself to the utilisation of lush garden greenery, happily flourishing in the rain. Alongside the daily pickings of salad leaves, radishes and broad beans there are plants hidden around our small corner that make a more unusual contribution to the dining table.
Two of my favourites are fairly similar in appearance but pack quite a different punch in flavour and medicinal value.
Lemon Balm (Melissa officinalis) will soothe your cares away - relieving anxiety, headaches and promoting good sleep, also having a very calming effect on unruly stomachs. The leaves make a simple 'tea' infusion - the flavour crossing a very mild citrus tang with a cucumber type freshness. I have had some success making the infusion into into a jelly with agar agar, lemon juice and Agave syrup which combines in a cunning medicinal dessert, expertly hidden from those in your life who might not be so enthusiastic about herbal remedies! Sadly my jelly hasn't behaved of late and while happily edible it has certainly not been suited to a portrait - you will have to trust me for now that it works.
A more recent trial (pictured at the start of this post) is a Lemon Balm Liqueur. Mix washed, crushed lemon balm leaves with vodka, honey and lemon peel to taste - life is too short to measure these kinds of recipes. Leave to stand for 3 weeks then drain, bottle and store until required. Drink straight as an aperitif, dilute with sparkling water for a gentle fizz or adapt your favourite cocktail recipe as appropriate - I have heard that Lemon Balm Martinis work rather well.
For those of you with eagle eyes, pictured alongside the Lemon Balm Vodka is a second very different pot of delight - courgette jam, a story for a later date...
In the meantime...
Stinging nettles (Urtica dioica) are the vitamin heroes of our small corner - rich in vitamins A, C, iron and protein, they are perfect as an all-round tonic - boosting immunity, acting as a diurectic and even celebrated as an anti-inflammatory. I happily cultivate this 'weed' in abundance around our wild patches, much to the confusion of a number of well manicured gardeners who have left looking a little concerned for the fate of the plot.
To get the best of our nettles I pick the young tops and shoots regularly from early spring and for as long as I can hold them off from flowering (once the leaves are larger and the flowers established the plants become fairly bitter and have some anti-social effects on digestion that are worth avoiding). The leaves should be picked with gloves and washed well, but once cooked they loose their sting immediately and hold a flavour somewhere in the region of a strong and more interesting spinach. Infuse the leaves to make a refreshing brew, substitute them for the basil in a pesto to utterly confuse your dinner guests or make my absolute favourite warmer for grey rainy days - Nettle Soup.
Unless you have carefully doctored your nettles, you will find it is a little late in the year for the right pick of leaves so you may want to hold this recipe for next spring... Fry a white onion in a generous knob of butter until slightly coloured. Add two medium potatoes to the pan (peeled and cubed), cover the pan and sweat for 10 minutes. Add enough vegetable stock (made with a good quality bouillon) to cover the potatoes by about two centimeters and leave to simmer for up to 30 minutes. Add your well-washed nettle tops, having first removed any thicker stalks (about a carrier bag full should make a large batch of soup), simmer for 5 minutes then cool the soup and liquidise before returning to the heat and seasoning with salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste. If you are feeling in a particularly lavish mood, serve with creme fraiche or double cream, otherwise simply drizzle with olive oil and enjoy. This should serve six, or one for a week of tonic if you avoid adding cream and store in the fridge.
Who needs Nytol, Ibuprofen and Berocca when you can simply feast on city weeds?
