INVITE THE WILD NEIGHBORS TO DINNER

Charismatic mega-fauna are really taking it on the chin these days. They look great on posters and t-shirts, but don’t let them walk un-tethered through town!

I was quite upset when, in April, a mountain lion showed up in Chicago, and was shot seven times by the police. I too have always felt a bit conspicuous and unwieldy in the city.

This cougar traveled hundreds of miles to get to Chicago. Perhaps it knocked out a few slow squirrels or stray cats when it touched on the interminable sprawl of Chicago, or Milwaukee, or even Rockford, Illinois, but there were no human attacks. Of course, there could have been – but there wasn’t.

Last year, also in Chicago, a coyote showed up in the refrigerated beverage section of a downtown sandwich shop. After forty-five minutes, and after several people-customers took pictures of it with their cell phones, animal control showed up. The coyote was given an overnight stay at a suburban wildlife rehabilitation center and released – probably back into the suburbs.

Most people around here are asking why these animals show up in huge metropolises. I think a better question to ask is this -- don’t you ever feel like one of these animals?

Mountain lions are both protectors and nurturers. They are loners and independent types. They stand for something quite formidable. Heck, they’re lions! It doesn’t seem like city folk are ready to live with such animals. Most have fear rather than respect for them. Lots of fear. Some reasonable. Some -- not so much.

So, if you feel like you’re a big cat in the big city, how do you protect yourself from being shot?

Is it better to adapt the strategy of a weed?

Weeds are plants that were once valued and cultivated but now have escaped cultivation. Some have been further domesticated into a more mild form now recognized as food. For instance, our lettuces are domesticated variations of wild lettuce.

Weeds are really good at hiding in the open. Their secrets are kept close in their invisibility. Their numbers are always spreading.

Be a weed:
thrive no matter where you are
make your own food and oxygen
make soils better for the next inhabitants
send out a gazillion seeds
reincarnate frequently in unexpected places

I want to introduce you to mugwort – Ms. Artemesia vulgaris. She is widespread in the United States. Mugwort pops up in both our urban and rural settings. She is downright plentiful and ready for you to use. (Note: if pregnant, please do not use this herb. Read more about it first.)

Artemis, the Queen of the Beasts was a wild one. She was an supreme hunter and friend of forest beasts. Artemis found mugwort and delivered it to the centaur. Forever after, the herb has carried her name.

I recommend you look for Artemesia vulgaris. And when you find her, gently trim a piece and dry it (simply burn it in a saucer) and inhale the smoke. This plant is a protector from evil as well as an aide to communication with the plant world.

Native Americans, Asians, and Europeans have used this plant medicinally and as a healthful culinary herb for hundreds of years. In Europe it was used as the main bittering flavor for ales until cultivated hops took over. My friend Tree, just shared some of his herby mugwort ale with me. yummy stuff paired with the homemade raw cheese we were munching on.

Mugwort is used in moxibustion. In acupuncture, this is the smoking punk they hover over your acupuncture points. It draws blood to the skin’s surface and unblocks your body’s meridian points of stuck energies.

Fresh or dried mugwort also repels insects, cleanses your blood of toxins, promotes sweating, and reduces tension. Lastly, you should know it has some of the same properties of its mysterious cousin of a different species (any guesses?).

Mugwort is also used for lucid dreaming. Cut a spring and put it under your pillow or tuck a sprig into your pocket for protection. Burn some before you settle into an evening outside. Smoke some before you go foraging or before you lie down in a meadow for a nap.

Maybe it is time we invite these charismatic mega-fauna and not-so-charismatic weeds to the table. Set a place for them. I am not talking about putting them on the menu at some upscale restaurant so we can create a demand. I am simply proposing we let them walk through town. Let them take up shelter under our porches or feed off the extra bunnies.

Speaking of weeds, please do serve them up, drink them, smoke them, learn about them and love them. Find an overarching but examined respect for them. You should, because the mega-fauna and weeds are already here or on their way.

While riding my bicycle by the train line recently, I saw the ghost image of the big cat out of the corner of my eye. It emerged from the alley and then ducked back in. In other words, the cat’s spirit hasn’t left.

mellow yellows

I first tasted dandelion wine when I bought a bottle of it at a folksy gift shop in the Amana Colonies (yes, Amana of the appliance fame). The Amana Colonies is an Amish community dating back to 1854. It was settled by the communally living German pietists then known as: The Community of True Inspiration or The Ebenezer Society. Their tenets included avoiding military service and refusal to take an oath. The Amanas are nestled in the middle of what is now a sea of genetically modified corn and soybeans known as the Midwest, more specifically Iowa.

I had wanted something to drink at my campsite that evening. When I opened the bottle, I anticipated something more magic than what met my tongue. It was cloying yellow syrupy stuff, which resembled soft drink concentrate. I poured it out next to my tent, returning it to the earth where she could compost it. I was sure that I’d never get close to it again.

That was fifteen years ago, and now I have been drinking dandelion wine for about two years. The new stuff is stuff I’ve made myself from dandelion blossoms gathered in Chicago. I’m happy to say that it is divine. I am sure now that the colonists actually keep the good stuff in their private cabinets.

Upon mentioning “dandelion wine”, Ray Bradbury usually comes to mind. However, after I heard a radio interview with him a few years back when he passionately made a case to colonize the moon so we can ditch this trashed planet and survive as a race, I got confused. Enough said.

So the point is, I am going to tell you how to make dandelion wine. I encourage you to do this because dandelions pop up everywhere and every place. They are nearly ubiquitous pioneers in our landscapes of disturbed and deprived soils. Consumed, they are a magnificent digestive, aiding the heath and cleansing of the kidneys and liver. Amongst vitamins A, B, C and D, they have a huge amount of potassium.

As a beyond-perfect diuretic, dandelion has so much potassium that when you digest the plant, no matter how much fluid you lose, your body actually experiences a net gain of the nutrient. In other words, folks – dandelion wine is one alcohol that actually helps your liver and kidneys! Generous, sweet, overlooked dandelion…

When you notice lawns and parks spotting yellow, it’s time to gather. The general rule of thumb is to collect one gallon of flowers for each gallon of wine you want to make.

Enjoy your wandering. People will think you quaintly eccentric for foraging blossoms on your hands and knees. Note: collect blossoms (without the stem) that have just opened and are out of the path of insecticides and pesticides.

So here’s how I make dandelion wine…

I pour one gallon boiling water over one gallon dandelion flowers in a large bowl. When the blossoms rise (wait about twenty-four to forty-eight hours), I strain the yellow liquid out, squeezing the remaining liquid out of the flowers, into a larger ceramic or glass bowl. I compost the spent flowers (thanks dandelion!).

Then I add juice and zest from four lemons and four oranges, and four pounds of sugar (4-4-4 = E.Z.). Okay, now what I think is the best part - I float a piece of stale bread in the mixture sprinkled with bread yeast. This technique is used in Appalachian and some European recipes.

Then I toss a dishtowel over it so the mixture can both breathe and the crud floating around my house stays out. I continue stirring the wine several times a day until it stops fermenting. This takes about two weeks or so.

When I am certain it has stopped “working”, I strain, bottle and cork it up and bid it farewell until months later. In fact I wait until the winter solstice, when I can revisit that sunny spring day by drinking it in.

Transition: as such an effective diuretic, dandelion is also know in French as “pis-en-lit” or “pee-in-the-bed”. Which brings me to YELLOW LIQUID #2 … that’s right, pee!

Pee is 95% water and 5% salts and minerals. When it comes out of the body, it’s sterile. Admittedly, I haven’t drunk my first whizz as part of my yogic practice, however, I habitually save my pee to potentize my compost as well as for making a nitrogen-rich fertilizer for my plants. Our bodies are nutrient factories – let’s value our post-consumption products and offer them back to the Mother.

Us humans pee on average a bit more than a quart a day, at a dilution rate of 1:5 (the recipe). Each one of us are producing more than two gallons of free plant fertilizer a day. Or around 750 gallons a year - which is enough fertilizer to grow 75% of an individual’s food needs for that year.

Did you know that most of the algae blooms - whether in the Los Angeles river, the shore of the Great Lakes, the mouth of the Mississippi and many other waterways - are largely due to agricultural run-off of nitrogen fertilizers applied to our corn-fed nation’s farmlands?

Peeing directly into your compost pile is great. So is collecting it in a jar or a bucket and dumping it into the pile later. Not composting? Then just dilute it fresh (remember the recipe again, 1:5) with some water and use it directly on plants or let it oxidize and turn into a nitrate (i.e. leaving it out until it gets nice and dark) and then apply it undiluted. Not only is this something that has been done for ages around the world, it is still being done. Most people are just hush hush about it.

Why are our municipalities cleaning water so we can flush our toilets with it? The separation of the solid and liquid body waste is an extensive and costly process for the water treatment plant and we pay that cost twice by flushing it all away. We have urine blindness…

Before I sign off, I want to put a bug in your ear – this terrific yellow liquid that our own bodies produce can also produce gunpowder. But maybe I’ll approach that topic in other column – or maybe you’ll just have to do the research yourself.

From Eli:

A recipe from Tree:

In the fall giant puffball mushrooms seem to be everywhere ... forests, roadsides, city parks and empty lots. Safe to eat (as long as they are still fresh and white inside), hard to mistake for anything dangerous, but honestly pretty bland.

Generally, I think they work well as a tofu replacement in most recipes. Puffball bacon is my favorite:

Cut the mushroom into thin bacon like strips

Marinate the strips for several hours in tamari or soy sauce with a touch of maple syrup and a bit of nutritional yeast

Heat a lightly oiled pan (an iron skillet works best) over high heat.

When the pan is hot, fry the mushroom bacon until it is almost crispy.

Flip the bacon multiple times while you are frying. It's inevitable that some will stick to the pan, but the burned bacon bits are pretty tasty anyway.

Let the bacon cool in the pan, and it will continue to crisp a little bit.

I love to use the mushroom bacon to make BLTs, but it works great crumpled over salads, or in any recipe that one might use bacon as an accent.

Enjoy.

from Lynn

I like to think that this dessert is something similar to what Midwesterners were making 100 years ago with the rich fruit of the native persimmon. You are especially likely to find persimmon trees in Indiana, Michigan, Kentucky, and Illinois in the woods next to old farms. Ask a farmer friend if he or she has any on their property.

The Native American Persimmon is quite small and seedy. They usually get no bigger than the size of a golf ball. The golden, amber fruit ripen mid-autumn and achieve their wonderful sticky sweetness after a few frosts and they start falling from the tree.

You can eat the persimmons just the way they are or, to use in a recipe, you will need to extract the pulp from the skin and seeds. In order to do this, rinse the fruit in water, and mash through a sieve or food mill. A good harvest of about 3-5 pounds of persimmons should yields about 2-3 cups of pulp.

Old Timer’s Persimmon Pudding

This is a really unusual recipe I adapted from the Bear Wallow book on persimmons. They produce a lot of cookbooks of American folk recipes. What makes this recipe unusual is that the pudding is stirred while it is being baked, making the finished version, a dense, chewy, caramelized masterpiece.

2 cups persimmon pulp
1 cup half and half
½ cup melted butter
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
1 ½ cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. salt
½ tsp grated nutmeg
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. ground cloves

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. In large bowl, mix together wet ingredients: pulp, half and half, melted butter, eggs, and sugar. Mix dry ingredients separately: flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and spices. Mix dry mixture into wet mixture. Stir well. Pour into a greased 9” x 13” pan and bake for one hour. Stir several times while pudding is baking, making sure to fold the crispy edges into the center of the pudding.