My first ever book launches today https://link.amazon/B01op6i8E

This morning I was thinking about how easy it is for many to see food only as the finished product. Take something ordinary, maybe a tomato, a slice of bread, a bowl of beans, or even something already prepared from the grocery store. Before it reached our plate, there was a story. Someone grew, raised, gathered, harvested, caught, processed, or prepared what eventually became this food where soil, water, weather, and season all played a part. Someone harvested, transported, processed, packaged, sold, or prepared the food. Then somewhere along that path, we became part of the process too. We may have grown it ourselves. We may have bought it from a farmer. We may have chosen it from a grocery shelf, brought it home, cooked it, or simply opened the package. What interests me is what happens when we begin to notice the relationships again. Pick one thing you eat today and trace it backward as far as you reasonably can. Where did it come from? Who might have had a hand in getting it to you? Was season important to it? What happened between its original form and what is sitting in front of you, and where did you enter that chain? You do not need to research every answer. Start with what you know, notice what you do not know, and let the missing pieces become questions. My thought is that food literacy begins partly here, not by memorizing more rules about food, but by becoming curious about the food already passing through our hands. What is one ordinary food you could trace backward today, and how far back can you follow it? When you think about the food you eat most often, how well do you know its path to your table?

Willard Kitchener MacDonald spent much of his life living alone in the woods of Nova Scotia. He hunted, fished, trapped, and lived with very little. When he needed something he could not provide for himself, he went into town. At first glance, his story looks like complete self-reliance. But he was never completely alone. People from the surrounding community visited him, brought food, books, clothing, and supplies, tried to help as he grew older, and respected his choice to live differently. When he disappeared, more than 100 people eventually took part in searching for him. That is the part of his story that interests me. We can teach our families to grow food, preserve it, repair things, manage water, and handle more of life's ordinary problems ourselves. Those skills give a family options. But resilience is not about separating ourselves from everyone else. A strong family should be able to take care of more of its own needs while also being connected to people who notice when something changes, offer a hand when needed, and know they can call on us in return. MacDonald lived about as independently as a person could, yet even he benefited from community. Maybe family preparedness is not just about what we store or what we know how to do. It is also about the caring relationships we build around us. What is one skill your family could strengthen, and one relationship outside your household worth strengthening along with it? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2eMqaNrqEQ&pp=ygUYVGhlIEhlcm1pdCBvZiBHdWxseSBMYWtl

Over the past several weeks, we have looked at infusion, decoction, cold infusion, what changes a water extraction, and where water has limits. The useful part is being able to bring those pieces together before we make something. Before making an herbal tea, ask: 1. Do I know the plant I am using? 2. Do I know which plant part I have? 3. What am I trying to get from this preparation? 4. Is water a good fit for that purpose? 5. If it is, does infusion, decoction, or cold infusion better fit the material? 6. Does this plant, plant part, and preparation fit the safety picture of the person using it? Leaves do not automatically mean infusion, and roots do not automatically mean decoction. More heat, more time, or more plant material does not correct a preparation that does not fit. The principle is fairly simple. The preparation should follow the plant, the part, the purpose, and the safety picture. If water does not fit, we do not need to force the herb into a tea. Before making an herbal tea, which question best shows the principle we have been learning?

Previously we looked at the plants Mayster Jon Gardener thought were worth growing in an English garden around 1440. This week we will look at herbs worth growing in 1440. What stands out is that these plants were not divided neatly into the categories we might use today. Jon Gardener names parsley, sage, thyme, hyssop, borage, mint, savory, fennel, southernwood, wormwood, yarrow, comfrey, betony, valerian, chamomile, lavender, horehound, coriander, roses, violets, and cowslips, among others. Some went into food. Others were associated with traditional healing, fragrance, flowers, or household use. Many could serve more than one purpose. That makes the medieval herb garden interesting as part of a working household system. Parsley, sage, mint, savory, fennel, borage, coriander, and hyssop all appear in medieval cooking traditions. They could season meats, broths, pottages, sauces, and other foods. Parsley was important enough that Jon gave instructions for sowing it, cutting it repeatedly, and leaving some plants to produce seed. The gardener was thinking about both today's harvest and next year's garden. Other plants such as lavender, roses, violets, chamomile, betony, valerian, yarrow, horehound, wormwood, and comfrey belonged to wider household and healing traditions. Although, historical use does not automatically mean safe or effective use today. Jon's list also includes plants such as henbane and foxglove. Some herbs can be seen in today's light and some cannot. From Garden to Kitchen A late-fourteenth-century English recipe called Sauce Madame gives us an interesting glimpse of how some of these herbs actually reached the table. The recipe used sage, parsley, hyssop, and savory with garlic, pears, quince, and grapes to stuff a goose. After roasting, the fruit and herbs helped form the sauce. A simple modern echo might be roast chicken with parsley, sage, savory, garlic, and apples or pears. It would not be the medieval recipe, but it helps us picture the connection between the garden and kitchen.