Author: Suzannah Kolbeck

Self-Heal: Si, Se Puede

Prunella vulgaris

I have been in the past, and still am, if I am being honest (which I always try to be), a cynical person to varying degrees. I have referred to myself as an optimistic pessimist – things could get better, but they probably won’t.

But then here comes COVID and the asinine people who refuse to wear a mask because ‘MURICA, and all things Black Lives Matter and the repeated and unanswered request that rights extend to all of the people in the U.S., not just the white ones, and I can feel the pendulum silently swinging to the pessimistic side of things.

My anxiety has ramped up right along with COVID cases, hospitalizations, and deaths, just as media coverage of BLM protests has quietly dwindled. Since the protests have been largely peaceful, save the random snatching of protestors and well-meaning white folks hijacking the message, apparently, the call for equality is less interesting. We’d rather see Karen flinging mask displays in Target or carrying out random, odd, mask-related protests in Costco.

It’s unnerving and upsetting to see how childish and ridiculous the U.S. is.

And yet.

There remains some reassuring and incontrovertible evidence that A) the universe doesn’t really give a rat’s ass about us humans, but B) if we can get even just a little bit quiet and attend to the world around us, that same universe is actually lousy with the things we actually need.

Case in point: referring the to aforementioned anxiety, I have very specific symptoms that range from gastrointestinal malfunction (will leave it at that) to pulsating tinnitus, anger, depression, and fainting. During the pandemic, I have done my level best to practice yoga (daily in July, but that’s new) and walk outside every day. I recognized early on that as attractive as lying around binge-watching trashy television appears on said trashy television, the reality of it is a noxious stew of flab, perseverating, and self-flagellation that feeds the beast of anxiety.

So outside I go, hiking, foraging, WEARING A FUCKING MASK.

And here’s where the universe pops in. When I am experiencing some specific symptom of anxiety, for the last three months, the medicinal herb to address it has popped up in my path.

Headaches, cramps, fatigue, nausea, dizziness, shortness of breath: each time I have walked out into the world and felt one of these (COVID negative, don’t panic), I have within minutes of walking stumbled upon the natural treatment for that symptom.

This past week I was on a solo camping trip in western Maryland, and I had the great good fortune to go hiking on the Appalachian Trail. I was born in D.C., lived in Maryland for 25 years (plus these past five), and I have never once stepped on the AT.

And I almost didn’t again. I woke up on the day of the planned hike short of breath with ringing ears – two bellwethers of an impending anxiety attack. Rather than cancel the hike, I imagined the worst that could happen, made plans to address that in my head, and laced up my boots (this is my technique for dealing with anxiety. Ignoring it doesn’t work, and sometimes taking medication is not a good option).

I walked along the sunny path and headed towards the first incline, reminding myself that I could always stop and turn around, when I spotted it: prunella vulgaris. Self-heal.

I have been looking for this common medicinal plant for a month, with no success. Self-heal (also called (heal-all or allheal) is in the mint family (without the yummy smell or taste – look for a square stem and know that all plants in the mint family are edible). It is the most-studied medicinal herb ever; some cultures refer to it as “Heart of the Earth.”

Which makes sense. Self-heal:

Heals wounds, inside and out, like cuts on the body and systemic infection;

Tones and heals the thyroid;

Is an anti-inflammatory painkiller;

Helps heal gingivitis; and

Eases the pain of osteoarthritis.

In addition, self-heal is used to treat HIV, herpes, diabetes, high blood pressure, tuberculosis, liver cancer, endometriosis, amnesia, and dementia.

It’s antiviral, good for the belly, and tonifying for the whole system.

If you are grieving and sad and struggling and anxious and feel a deep and thorough exhaustion and uncertainty, self-heal is the plant ally to reach for.

So to have this plant appear in front of me seemed momentous. The world is on fire, aching with wounds both superficial and deep. The fortuitous appearance of self-heal at the beginning of my day’s journey was a reminder that we have, often right in front of us, the tools we need to heal ourselves and our communities.

It is vital to remember, though, that like other healing solutions, self-heal is not the pill that erases the symptoms. It takes time and careful attention to work, something that our myriad problems deserve.

I did not gather any self-heal to make a tincture. At my first glance, there was not a profusion of it, and I think that it’s a no-no on the AT to harvest plants. On the way down I saw much more, but by that time the medicine of knowing that plant stepped itself in front of me was enough. So I leave you with this video from She is of the Woods. This woman has SEEN SOME THINGS, and I love her for it. Here is her intro to this “plant ally”; follow her on YouTube to see how to make an oxymel, or follow my link to the dandelion oxymel here.

Ambrosia Salad For These Times

Ambrosia salad what you need. Trust me. I’m a professional.

When I lived in the south I had a friend who was a little bit crazy. Actually, really, very crazy. But she was my friend and she was fun until she wasn’t, and she hated ambrosia salad.

Growing up sugar-free, I never knew there was such a thing as ambrosia salad until I got much older, and then the combination of canned fruit and whipped topping was not really something that appealed to me sober, so I never really investigated it. I liked the idea of a salad that was ambrosial, though, and I never quite forgot about it.

But then I met Nancy (name changed to protect her, and me, for she really is crazy), and she challenged me to make an ambrosia salad she liked for a potluck she was having. I did, and it was truly ambrosial. None of this canned, tin-tasting fruit and plastic whipped cream. The secret was fresh ingredients, toasted coconut, and toasted pecans, plus a little pinch of salt at the end.

Could we all use some sweetness and light right now? Yes, I believe we could. Here it is.

Ingredients

1/4 cup unsweetened coconut, toasted

½ cup chopped pecans, toasted

2 oranges, suprémed and cut into ½” pieces

1 large grapefruit, suprémed and cut into ½” pieces

1/2 fresh pineapple, peeled, cored, and cut into ½” pieces

1 cup mini marshmallows

1 cup of heavy whipping cream

3 T confectioner’s sugar

1 tsp vanilla

½ tsp salt

Method

Preheat oven to 350⁰. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and place pecans and coconut on the baking sheet. Toast until both begin to brown or darken in color, shaking to prevent burning. This happens fast, so watch closely.

Remove from oven and allow to cool completely.

Place fruit in a large bowl with mini marshmallows.

In a medium bowl, beat whipping cream to soft peaks. Add vanilla and sugar and continue beating until the cream just stands up when the beaters are removed (not too stiff).

Fold whipping cream into fruit. Chill completely.

Before serving, add toasted coconut, toasted pecans, and salt and stir to combine.

Recipe notes

  • Maraschino cherries often make an appearance here, but I cannot stomach all of that artificial color. If you must add cherries, add ½ cup of fresh Bing cherries or go completely over the top and add the same amount of Luxardo cherries. Truly heavenly.

Summertime In A Jar: Blackberry Jam

Blackberry jam. Pure goodness. A rare and precious thing.

One of the most poignant and bittersweet memories in my childhood is of steaming vats of water in an already-steamy, un-airconditioned rustic kitchen, used first to slip tomatoes of their paper-thin skins and then to boil Ball jars filled with said tomatoes, chopped, until the satisfying “pop” of a vacuum jar meant they were safe to store. These bright red jewels (and others, like blackberry jam, and strawberry, too) lined the shelves of the stone steps that led to a dirt basement under the kitchen and ensured a winter’s worth of sauce and a fresh burst of summer flavor on even the bleakest days.

I was a reluctant helper. It seems the sauce always popped when I passed by, burning my skin, or the tomatoes were stubborn in their skins. Mostly I passed through the kitchen as quickly as possible, fleeing to books or shady spots on our wooded property, ever-mindful of snakes.

These days I understand better the value of those jewel-toned jars.

They represent plenty, excess even, so much abundance that it must be stored away. They guard against want on short days with not much sun and preserve a summer’s effort so that you can slide into those lazy days when there is two feet of snow on the ground outside the window.

Blackberry jam is one of the first products of early summer, ready before tomatoes bent the shoulder-high tomato plants under their weight. Gathered carefully, ever mindful of snakes that enjoyed resting on their ample leaves, blackberries turned into sweet-tart blackberry jam are one of life’s best pleasures.

My lovely friend Martha of Full Moon Acupuncture has happy blackberry vines in her Baltimore backyard and is generous with them This blackberry jam is made with only three ingredients: blackberries, sugar, and lemon juice. Because blackberries are naturally high in pectin, it is not necessary in this recipe for low-sugar blackberry jam.

The formula for blackberry jam is simple if you want a stereotypical batch: weigh your blackberries and use an equal amount of sugar. For me, this results in sickly-sweet jam that tastes more of sugar than sunshine-y blackberries. For this recipe, I weighed my berries and used half that amount of sugar. You could use even less for a low- or no-sugar blackberry jam, but that would take longer on the stove.

Low-Sugar Blackberry Jam

(makes five half pints, plus a little leftover)

Weighing your blackberries is the best option here, as cup measurements are challenging. I use half as much sugar as blackberries – it’s a good formula for a juicy, blackberry-forward, low-sugar blackberry jam.

Ingredients

Just over six cups of blackberries, by weight (50 ounces)

Just under 3 cups of sugar, by weight (20 ounces)

Two tablespoons lemon juice

Method

If you are planning on water bath processing your jam, get your jars ready first. Wash jars and lids in warm, soapy water while you bring a stockpot of water to boil on the stove. Boil clean jars for two minutes, then move to a clean dish towel. Dip lids, ladles, and anything else you will use in the canning process into the boiling water and set aside.

Put a clean plate in the freezer to test the blackberry jam for doneness. This will become clear soon.

Place blackberries, sugar, and lemon juice in another large pot (leave lots of headspace for the jam to foam). Mash slightly and bring to a boil.

Play something nice on the radio, or load up a podcast. Lower heat to medium low, and stir as the jam boils/simmers. Stir the foam down as it rises.

Over time, your jam will stop foaming, become glossy, and thicken substantially. This could take between 20 to 30 minutes. Be patient. Be attentive. Take this as an opportunity to be mindful.

To see if your jam is ready, remove the frozen plate from the freezer and spoon a bit of jam onto it. Let cool for a couple minutes, then drag a finger through the jam. If it makes a path that does not get filled immediately by liquid-y jam, it’s ready to can.

If the path fills in with blackberry jam, keep boiling and stirring. Wash the plate, dry completely, and put it back in the freezer. Test after another ten minutes until the path your finger makes stays clear.

Ladle blackberry jam into prepared jars, leaving ¼” headspace. If you are not planning on water bath processing, set aside and let cool at room temperature without moving overnight, then move to the ‘fridge or freezer.

To water bath can, heat a large stockpot of water to boiling. Carefully lower the jars of blackberry jam into the boiling water (make sure the water is at least an inch above the jars). Boil for five minutes, then remove to cool on the counter overnight. Listen for the lid to “pop,” indicating a seal. This might take a full 24 hours. If the lids don’t pop, you could either remove the lid, add a new one, and reprocess, or you can place in the freezer or ‘fridge.

Blackberry jam is good in the ‘fridge for a couple weeks (maybe more, depending on how much sugar you used), and correctly processed for years.

Recipe Notes

You could make a sugar-free blackberry jam with sweet berries and lots of time, too. Keep the lemon juice to brighten up your berry flavor.

For a blackberry jam recipe with pectin, follow the directions on the pectin package for best results.

If you prefer a seedless jam, strain the jam after it thickens and before pouring into jars. This is a bit of an arduous task but results in a silky-smooth jam.

Go even further and add a tablespoon of fresh lavender to the jam and let it cool slightly before straining again and processing as desired.

Reflection

The Susquehanna River.

So I am reading The Nature Fix: Why Nature Makes Us Happier, Healthier, and More Creative, a book from 2017 that reminds me of how elemental it is to retreat to a natural space when it’s time to consider things – to reflect, if you will.

This week, KWeeks and I hit the road for a couple of days to camp, only to realize on our one full day there how challenging it is to just leave everything behind simply because you get in the car and make the wheels turn.

But sitting on the banks of any kind of water, surrounded by birdsong and only just a faint hint of traffic noise, is a good way to begin to release, to loosen every clenched thing inside that you didn’t even know was clenching.

It was not enough time, nearly, but it was a taste, and my first trip out of town since February. This blog does not mean I am back – I am keeping all of my writerly things close to my chest in terms of poems and other work – but it seems fitting to post the theme of this latest retreat here.

As ever: wear your mask. Be kind. Black Lives Matter.

BUT WE WERE ON A BREAK

So this is it for me. I am officially going on a break with this blog, at least until the fall, I think, or until I redesign the blog and move it to another host, or something becomes so compelling that I simply MUST SHARE with the three regular readers of this blog.

What, Three Readers, will you read when I am gone from here?

I have been through the stages of COVID-induced writing: defiant daily chronicling of quotidian thoughts, a desperate ploy for some kind of structure, haphazard posting of things that I find interesting.

I have made some delicious food here. I will make more.

But just not for a while.

For now, I will defy the nature of the season and the people who are flouting the virus that still runs rampant and turn inward for a but. Turns out, this space may be more of an avoidance tactic at this point.

But it’s not serving anyone. S

So adieu, for now. See you back when the shadows lengthen and the days shorten.

Be kind. Wash your hands. Black Lives Matter.