I'd hoped to have something to write regarding the solstice, but found myself too wrapped up in clearing the way for the coming new beginning. The housekeeping has been both on the outside -- moving from room to room last week, cleaning top to bottom -- and on the inside as I moved from interior chamber to chamber. What do I want? What do I not want? What is my deepest desire? The one thwarted for a lifetime? The one that, if I don't accomplish it, will leave my life unfinished, bitter to the end?
That was the purpose and meaning of the recent combination Solstice and Lunar Eclipse, as we head into the upcoming Solar Eclipse that will mark the beginning of a new dream.
So Happy Dreaming, everybody. And in the meantime, I've discovered the photo gadget and added my furfamily to welcome you, whoever and whereever you may be...
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Happy Samhain, Wiccan New Year and Day of the Dead
We own nothing, not any of us. That includes the elite.
Not our homes. Not our children. Not our companions. Not our bodies. Not even our own lives. Death owns it all. It merely lets us borrow for a while. So enjoy and love what you have while it lasts, knowing it will not last.
That is not a bad thing. Death cleans up the old, making room for the new. Imagine if there was no death. If you had to carry around with you every piece of clothing you had ever owned, from your first diaper to that ugly pair of shoes you have no idea what you were thinking when you bought. If every relationship lasted forever…your first date was lying in your bed at night, along with every subsequent lover and now yourspouse. If you were stuck with every condo or house you ever bought…or every apartment you ever rented. Still cleaning, repairing, and paying taxes on them all.
Imagine if every human ever born was still here, rotting, decrepit, but still stumbling and bumbling around. Earth would be a pretty overcrowded place, would it not?
So welcome death, and honor it. Death sits on your left shoulder waiting to take it all back. It is a friend, doing you a favor by reminding you that every breath you take is there by its grace. And letting you know that when it does take back, it is only to make room for the new.
Not our homes. Not our children. Not our companions. Not our bodies. Not even our own lives. Death owns it all. It merely lets us borrow for a while. So enjoy and love what you have while it lasts, knowing it will not last.
That is not a bad thing. Death cleans up the old, making room for the new. Imagine if there was no death. If you had to carry around with you every piece of clothing you had ever owned, from your first diaper to that ugly pair of shoes you have no idea what you were thinking when you bought. If every relationship lasted forever…your first date was lying in your bed at night, along with every subsequent lover and now yourspouse. If you were stuck with every condo or house you ever bought…or every apartment you ever rented. Still cleaning, repairing, and paying taxes on them all.
Imagine if every human ever born was still here, rotting, decrepit, but still stumbling and bumbling around. Earth would be a pretty overcrowded place, would it not?
So welcome death, and honor it. Death sits on your left shoulder waiting to take it all back. It is a friend, doing you a favor by reminding you that every breath you take is there by its grace. And letting you know that when it does take back, it is only to make room for the new.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Two blunders, three lessons and a reprieve
First, the marshmallow root saga.
This was part and parcel of cleaning up my messy garden before putting it to bed for the winter. Half the backdrop to my garden is my pride and joy, a dozen or so tall and increasingly voluptuous marshmallows that I started from seeds some 6 years ago. For the past two years they’ve reproduced baby marshmallows throughout the garden, which I’ve transplanted into one of the swales that divides my pasture. This year, however, I decided to try modifying a throat-soothing remedy made by simmering thinly sliced marshmallow roots in honey. Having never made this on a conventional stove, you’d think I’d have carefully used just some of my marshmallows and closely tended by pending creation. Instead, disappointed by how little marshmallow root actually came out of the earth once I dug the babies up, I charged ahead with slicing up the entire crop. And emboldened by my early successes, instead of closely monitoring events, I headed as usual with the dogs to the pond.
When I returned, everything looked inviting, with a deep golden brown batch of soaked marshmallow coins nestled at the bottom of the pot. And then I tried to scoop them up and discovered, to my dismay, that you really can cook things right onto the pot with just the heat of the sun.
I attempted to pry the solid mass off the pot with a spoon, to no avail. Fortunately, a brief soaking released chunks of honey-baked marshmallow root. I discovered some of it was even soft enough to chew, only to realize that some of the first year marshmallow was actually second year, with fibrous, inedible tangles of rope. But soaked in honey. Yum.
Thus three lessons:
1. It turns out you really can burn stuff onto pots cooking solar
2. When you’re experimenting with untested recipes, don’t be so sure you can "just head to the lake and let it all take care of itself”
3. When you’re experimenting with untested recipes, don’t shoot the whole wad on the first try. Be patient. Stick to mini-batches and leave yourself something to adjust and work with. Trust, but verify.
And then came bread
With no marshmallows left to harvest, I turned to making bread. I decided to start easy, with a recipe picked up from a co-worker for “Scottish Oat Cakes.” I should have realized I had a problem when I had to modify the recipe to include five times the suggested water. But I forged ahead, and proceeded to cook a salty, dry, crumbly mess. A quick google for Scottish Oat Cakes and I determined that I had stumbled on the correct amount of water – the recipe, apparently written by someone from a far off memory – was a mess. Of course, I’d made the full batch and, being at times overly frugal, I wasted an entire morning’s sun cooking more of the dry, crumbly mess.
And just where have I heard this before?
Oh, that's right:
Lesson #1.When you’re experimenting with untested recipes, don’t shoot the whole wad. Stick to MINI-BATCHES!!!!
There is an upside, however, to eating your disasters. Yes, the first recipe was just awful. But in it, I found the seeds to another oat recipe that I’ll be experimenting with later.
And the reprieve?
While harvesting for a tincture, I discovered one slender stalk of baby marshmallow root hiding in the midst of the St. John’s Wort. And with it, a second chance for the marshmallow-honey lozenges! And in the meantime, I’ve got the Oat Cakes down pat, extended that trial to a sweet treat of Raspberry Oat Cakes, completed a semi-successful first pass at chicken n’dumplings and a totally successful version of solar corn bread.
Onward and upward
As soon as time allows, I’ll be trying some yeast breads. Since it's been 40 years or so since I attempted yeast breads with a "real" oven, this could prove to be interesting and possibly entertaining. Time will tell!
This was part and parcel of cleaning up my messy garden before putting it to bed for the winter. Half the backdrop to my garden is my pride and joy, a dozen or so tall and increasingly voluptuous marshmallows that I started from seeds some 6 years ago. For the past two years they’ve reproduced baby marshmallows throughout the garden, which I’ve transplanted into one of the swales that divides my pasture. This year, however, I decided to try modifying a throat-soothing remedy made by simmering thinly sliced marshmallow roots in honey. Having never made this on a conventional stove, you’d think I’d have carefully used just some of my marshmallows and closely tended by pending creation. Instead, disappointed by how little marshmallow root actually came out of the earth once I dug the babies up, I charged ahead with slicing up the entire crop. And emboldened by my early successes, instead of closely monitoring events, I headed as usual with the dogs to the pond.
When I returned, everything looked inviting, with a deep golden brown batch of soaked marshmallow coins nestled at the bottom of the pot. And then I tried to scoop them up and discovered, to my dismay, that you really can cook things right onto the pot with just the heat of the sun.
I attempted to pry the solid mass off the pot with a spoon, to no avail. Fortunately, a brief soaking released chunks of honey-baked marshmallow root. I discovered some of it was even soft enough to chew, only to realize that some of the first year marshmallow was actually second year, with fibrous, inedible tangles of rope. But soaked in honey. Yum.
Thus three lessons:
1. It turns out you really can burn stuff onto pots cooking solar
2. When you’re experimenting with untested recipes, don’t be so sure you can "just head to the lake and let it all take care of itself”
3. When you’re experimenting with untested recipes, don’t shoot the whole wad on the first try. Be patient. Stick to mini-batches and leave yourself something to adjust and work with. Trust, but verify.
And then came bread
With no marshmallows left to harvest, I turned to making bread. I decided to start easy, with a recipe picked up from a co-worker for “Scottish Oat Cakes.” I should have realized I had a problem when I had to modify the recipe to include five times the suggested water. But I forged ahead, and proceeded to cook a salty, dry, crumbly mess. A quick google for Scottish Oat Cakes and I determined that I had stumbled on the correct amount of water – the recipe, apparently written by someone from a far off memory – was a mess. Of course, I’d made the full batch and, being at times overly frugal, I wasted an entire morning’s sun cooking more of the dry, crumbly mess.
And just where have I heard this before?
Oh, that's right:
Lesson #1.When you’re experimenting with untested recipes, don’t shoot the whole wad. Stick to MINI-BATCHES!!!!
There is an upside, however, to eating your disasters. Yes, the first recipe was just awful. But in it, I found the seeds to another oat recipe that I’ll be experimenting with later.
And the reprieve?
While harvesting for a tincture, I discovered one slender stalk of baby marshmallow root hiding in the midst of the St. John’s Wort. And with it, a second chance for the marshmallow-honey lozenges! And in the meantime, I’ve got the Oat Cakes down pat, extended that trial to a sweet treat of Raspberry Oat Cakes, completed a semi-successful first pass at chicken n’dumplings and a totally successful version of solar corn bread.
Onward and upward
As soon as time allows, I’ll be trying some yeast breads. Since it's been 40 years or so since I attempted yeast breads with a "real" oven, this could prove to be interesting and possibly entertaining. Time will tell!
Friday, July 30, 2010
Shrinking your carbon footprint – it’s not all about sacrifice
I’ve spent the last few years striving to cut my use of fossil fuels in any way that I can. I’ve caulked, weatherstripped, insulated, cut back showers, consolidated my errands, changed which rooms I heat and how much I heat them, sweatered up in winter, quit baking…and had pretty much run out of low-cost modifications with immediate return on investment. As a result, I saved thousands of dollars last year in heating oil and propane, and without too drastic a crimp in my life. I’m still clean, well-fed and healthy, as are the various members of my fur and feathered family.
But the Deepwater Horizon catastrophe in the Gulf renewed my motivation, driving me to put my thinking cap back on, look for new ways to cut back, and revisit old trials that had not yet panned out.
A couple years ago I’d looked into solar cooking. The choices then seemed limited to high-end parabolic cookers that cost many hundreds of dollars, or cardboard and aluminum foil “do-it-yourself” projects doomed, at least in my clumsy hands, to failure. So as I watched helplessly as crude gushed into the gulf, killing all plants and animals unfortunate enough to be in its path, I decided to revisit Google where I discovered, to my delight, that solar cooking has enetered a new phase. Affordable. Practical. Efficient.
After researching a number of solar cookers currently available, I settled on the “Hotpot” from solarovens.net. Already, just 5 days after my Hotpot’s arrival, I am in love. On day one, I cooked experimental corn on the cob. I place 6 ears in the pot, set the pot on the reflectors, and headed to the lake with my dogs. An hour and a half later, a delectable aroma rose from 6 perfectly cooked ears. Day two brought me 6 perfect hard-cooked eggs. Days three and four brought me London broil simmering in onions, green peppers and garlic with a little Greek salad dressing for marinade. Today featured raspberry and cream cheese tarts.
Baking is back
As are simmering, stewing, boiling and braising. The advantages of solar cooking – aside from the obvious clean, renewable, freely available fuel -- are many:
* First, if you like to fuss over your cooking, lifting the lid, sniffing, stirring, adding a little more of this n’that as you go, you’ll have to change your habits some. Solar works best if you put everything in your pot and let it be. Aside from adjusting the position of your cooker, you simply need to leave it to the sun.
* The results are consistently fabulous. There is something distinct about the aroma and flavor of solar cooked food. A delicate purity – nothing to get “accustomed” too, it is simply scrumptious. It is nearly impossible to overcook, everything simply stews in its own juices.
* Although it takes longer to cook solar, it takes up far less of your time. You can adjust the position of the cooker every hour or so to speed the process, or you can set your cooker slightly ahead of the sun and just leave it alone longer. Cooking times vary with the amount and size of food chunks, not to mention the season, humidity and wind. So far everything I’ve tried as been finished within an hour and a half, but I know that when the sun is lower in the sky or when my pot is fuller, I can expect cooking times of 3 or 4 hours. But I won’t be tied to the pot for that time, so it is a matter of planning to return, not imposition or imprisonment.
Unexpected savings
At least with the Hotpot, no matter how inept you are, solar cooked food doesn’t burn to the pan. As a result, cleanup is easy. No soaking, no scrubbing, no scouring pads are needed. A gentle washing with a minimum of hot water and soap, and a quick rinse and your pot is good to go. The same with the outer glass bowl and the reflectors. Gentle wipe down and you're done.
Bottom line, I'm sold on solar
My conventional propane oven/stove is now officially semi, if not fully, retired and I expect my Hotpot to pay for itself within a couple of months. In addition to the Hotpot, I’m planning to get a second solar cooker of a different style that will enable me to cook multiple items – such as loaves of bread – at once and in different types of pans, from cast iron skillets to colored pyrex pans. Already I can imagine the soups, stews, breads and desserts I’ll be able to prepare and freeze throughout the summer and fall to feast on when the sun lies to low for cooking. Without sacrificing a thing, I'll be saving time, energy, money, and the earth.
But the Deepwater Horizon catastrophe in the Gulf renewed my motivation, driving me to put my thinking cap back on, look for new ways to cut back, and revisit old trials that had not yet panned out.
A couple years ago I’d looked into solar cooking. The choices then seemed limited to high-end parabolic cookers that cost many hundreds of dollars, or cardboard and aluminum foil “do-it-yourself” projects doomed, at least in my clumsy hands, to failure. So as I watched helplessly as crude gushed into the gulf, killing all plants and animals unfortunate enough to be in its path, I decided to revisit Google where I discovered, to my delight, that solar cooking has enetered a new phase. Affordable. Practical. Efficient.
After researching a number of solar cookers currently available, I settled on the “Hotpot” from solarovens.net. Already, just 5 days after my Hotpot’s arrival, I am in love. On day one, I cooked experimental corn on the cob. I place 6 ears in the pot, set the pot on the reflectors, and headed to the lake with my dogs. An hour and a half later, a delectable aroma rose from 6 perfectly cooked ears. Day two brought me 6 perfect hard-cooked eggs. Days three and four brought me London broil simmering in onions, green peppers and garlic with a little Greek salad dressing for marinade. Today featured raspberry and cream cheese tarts.
Baking is back
As are simmering, stewing, boiling and braising. The advantages of solar cooking – aside from the obvious clean, renewable, freely available fuel -- are many:
* First, if you like to fuss over your cooking, lifting the lid, sniffing, stirring, adding a little more of this n’that as you go, you’ll have to change your habits some. Solar works best if you put everything in your pot and let it be. Aside from adjusting the position of your cooker, you simply need to leave it to the sun.
* The results are consistently fabulous. There is something distinct about the aroma and flavor of solar cooked food. A delicate purity – nothing to get “accustomed” too, it is simply scrumptious. It is nearly impossible to overcook, everything simply stews in its own juices.
* Although it takes longer to cook solar, it takes up far less of your time. You can adjust the position of the cooker every hour or so to speed the process, or you can set your cooker slightly ahead of the sun and just leave it alone longer. Cooking times vary with the amount and size of food chunks, not to mention the season, humidity and wind. So far everything I’ve tried as been finished within an hour and a half, but I know that when the sun is lower in the sky or when my pot is fuller, I can expect cooking times of 3 or 4 hours. But I won’t be tied to the pot for that time, so it is a matter of planning to return, not imposition or imprisonment.
Unexpected savings
At least with the Hotpot, no matter how inept you are, solar cooked food doesn’t burn to the pan. As a result, cleanup is easy. No soaking, no scrubbing, no scouring pads are needed. A gentle washing with a minimum of hot water and soap, and a quick rinse and your pot is good to go. The same with the outer glass bowl and the reflectors. Gentle wipe down and you're done.
Bottom line, I'm sold on solar
My conventional propane oven/stove is now officially semi, if not fully, retired and I expect my Hotpot to pay for itself within a couple of months. In addition to the Hotpot, I’m planning to get a second solar cooker of a different style that will enable me to cook multiple items – such as loaves of bread – at once and in different types of pans, from cast iron skillets to colored pyrex pans. Already I can imagine the soups, stews, breads and desserts I’ll be able to prepare and freeze throughout the summer and fall to feast on when the sun lies to low for cooking. Without sacrificing a thing, I'll be saving time, energy, money, and the earth.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
My garden is a happy mess
Starting in mid-May and lasting right through June, between classes all morning Monday through Thursday, the corporate job that supports me every weekday afternoon and evening, and piles of homework on weekends, something had to give! Actually, a lot of things had to make way. My critters remained fed and cleaned up after, while on minimum maintenance. Ungroomed and living out, the horses and kitty turned half-wild, while inside the dogs moped and Cody Carrothead, the citron-crested cockatoo, called “I love you, I love you, I love you” as I raced out the door in the morning and dragged myself in at night. Somehow we two-foots and four-foots all managed to muddle on through 6 weeks of crazy.
The weeds and what passes as a lawn, on the other hand, thrived: two weeks ago I emerged from a tough semester surrounded by a waist-high sea of growth. And I comforted myself with the thought that my garden would go on and that it would grow what I need. And so it has…in spades! As I slowly work my way through an abundance of sweet grass and dandelions, mounds of not so humble plantain, and what turned out *not* to be feverfew, I’m finding myself surrounded by both loss and blessings. My chives and French tarragon, sadly, have passed. My beautiful wild calendula, which had re-seeded itself throughout the garden for the past 6 years, this year failed to return. On the other hand, the strawberry patch that my snow-plower carelessly dispatched two winters ago, and which had re-planted itself on the safer, far side of the garden, has taken on new life. It’s made best friends with the marshmallow, wound its way along the former path that separated the marshmallow from the lemon balm, and has even held the lemon balm at bay. My mountain mint and agastache golden jubilee, both also plowed up by the renegade plow, are no longer large bushes, but have found new life in a multitude of babies.
And then there are the giant plantings that I’d removed years ago because they were simply too oversized and overwhelming for the relatively small space between the house and garage that is home to my baby-plant nursery. As I mentioned above – I believed that my garden would provide me with what I needed most. So what has returned this year, after a long absence, in my time of high stress and, more recently, depression over the catastrophe in the gulf? Valerian…everywhere. And last evening, to my surprise, St. John’s Wort. Garden Magic, anyone?
The weeds and what passes as a lawn, on the other hand, thrived: two weeks ago I emerged from a tough semester surrounded by a waist-high sea of growth. And I comforted myself with the thought that my garden would go on and that it would grow what I need. And so it has…in spades! As I slowly work my way through an abundance of sweet grass and dandelions, mounds of not so humble plantain, and what turned out *not* to be feverfew, I’m finding myself surrounded by both loss and blessings. My chives and French tarragon, sadly, have passed. My beautiful wild calendula, which had re-seeded itself throughout the garden for the past 6 years, this year failed to return. On the other hand, the strawberry patch that my snow-plower carelessly dispatched two winters ago, and which had re-planted itself on the safer, far side of the garden, has taken on new life. It’s made best friends with the marshmallow, wound its way along the former path that separated the marshmallow from the lemon balm, and has even held the lemon balm at bay. My mountain mint and agastache golden jubilee, both also plowed up by the renegade plow, are no longer large bushes, but have found new life in a multitude of babies.
And then there are the giant plantings that I’d removed years ago because they were simply too oversized and overwhelming for the relatively small space between the house and garage that is home to my baby-plant nursery. As I mentioned above – I believed that my garden would provide me with what I needed most. So what has returned this year, after a long absence, in my time of high stress and, more recently, depression over the catastrophe in the gulf? Valerian…everywhere. And last evening, to my surprise, St. John’s Wort. Garden Magic, anyone?
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
All wound up? You could pop a valium…or simply stop and smell the Jasmine
Hundreds of species of jasmine, the lovely, flowering shrub and vine that grows throughout the tropics and subtropics of the east, have been used by traditional folk healers as a sedative, pain killer, to lower blood pressure, as an antidote for headaches and rheumatism, and more. Our “gift from God” is a member of the olive family and is the national flower of Indonesia, Pakistan and the Phillipines.
Jasmine tea, commonly imbibed in China, is recommended by natural healers to help us lose weight, to regulate circulation and arterial tension, and simply calm us down. The French use Jasmine to make syrup, and in the U.S. the syrup is sometimes used to make jasmine scones. In aromatherapy, the essential oil of Jasmine is used as a sedative. Extracted either chemically or via enfleurage, it requires millions of jasmine flowers to make a single kilo of essential jasmine oil. Apparently it is worth the effort.
The scientists weigh in
A newly published study demonstrates that simply inhaling the essential oil of jasmine has the same biochemical impact as common prescription sedatives…but without the side effects. When Dr. Olga Sergeeva and Prof. Helmut Hass, working with a research team at Ruhr-Universitaet-Bochum led by Prof. Hanns Hatt, exposed mice to hundreds of fragrances, it was the aroma of jasmine that left the mice peacefully hanging out in the corners of their cages. Brain scans of the exposed mice showed enhanced activity on nerve receptors, inhibiting the neurotransmitter GABA, similar to the effect of barbiturates and anesthetics. For comparison, a “control group” of mice with genetically modified receptors was also exposed to both the anesthetic propofol (branded Diprivan by AstraZeneca) and the fragrance. Whereas both propofol and jasmine affected the normal mice, neither affected the behavior nor the brain scans of the genetically-modified control mice, confirming their findings. (1)
Aromatherapy -- it’s all in your head
The German study follows on earlier studies in Japan, with both rats and humans, which demonstrated the sedative effects of linalool, a chemical compound found in numerous fragrances, including Jasmine, used in aromatherapy and natural perfumes. (2) (3)Apparently, after jasmine’s fragrance molecules are absorbed into the bloodstream via the lungs, they are transported to the brain where they activate sleep-associated receptors. The German study showed five times the normal receptor activity, giving it the same impact as prescription anesthetics.According to Prof. Hatt, "The results can also be seen as evidence of a scientific basis for aromatherapy." (1)
(1) Ruhr-Universitaet-Bochum (2010, July 9). Intoxicating fragrance: Jasmine as valium substitute. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 13, 2010, from http://www.sciencedaily.com /releases/2010/07/100708104320.htm
(2) American Chemical Society (2009, July 23). Stop And Smell The Flowers -- The Scent Really Can Soothe Stress. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 11, 2010, from http://www.sciencedaily.com /releases/2009/07/090722110901.htm
(3) Eur J Appl Physiol. 2005 Oct;95(2-3):107-14. Laboratory of Nutrition Chemistry, Division of Food Science and Biotechnology, Graduate School of Agriculture, Kyoto University, Kitashirakawa Oiwake-cho, Kyoto, Japan
Jasmine tea, commonly imbibed in China, is recommended by natural healers to help us lose weight, to regulate circulation and arterial tension, and simply calm us down. The French use Jasmine to make syrup, and in the U.S. the syrup is sometimes used to make jasmine scones. In aromatherapy, the essential oil of Jasmine is used as a sedative. Extracted either chemically or via enfleurage, it requires millions of jasmine flowers to make a single kilo of essential jasmine oil. Apparently it is worth the effort.
The scientists weigh in
A newly published study demonstrates that simply inhaling the essential oil of jasmine has the same biochemical impact as common prescription sedatives…but without the side effects. When Dr. Olga Sergeeva and Prof. Helmut Hass, working with a research team at Ruhr-Universitaet-Bochum led by Prof. Hanns Hatt, exposed mice to hundreds of fragrances, it was the aroma of jasmine that left the mice peacefully hanging out in the corners of their cages. Brain scans of the exposed mice showed enhanced activity on nerve receptors, inhibiting the neurotransmitter GABA, similar to the effect of barbiturates and anesthetics. For comparison, a “control group” of mice with genetically modified receptors was also exposed to both the anesthetic propofol (branded Diprivan by AstraZeneca) and the fragrance. Whereas both propofol and jasmine affected the normal mice, neither affected the behavior nor the brain scans of the genetically-modified control mice, confirming their findings. (1)
Aromatherapy -- it’s all in your head
The German study follows on earlier studies in Japan, with both rats and humans, which demonstrated the sedative effects of linalool, a chemical compound found in numerous fragrances, including Jasmine, used in aromatherapy and natural perfumes. (2) (3)Apparently, after jasmine’s fragrance molecules are absorbed into the bloodstream via the lungs, they are transported to the brain where they activate sleep-associated receptors. The German study showed five times the normal receptor activity, giving it the same impact as prescription anesthetics.According to Prof. Hatt, "The results can also be seen as evidence of a scientific basis for aromatherapy." (1)
(1) Ruhr-Universitaet-Bochum (2010, July 9). Intoxicating fragrance: Jasmine as valium substitute. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 13, 2010, from http://www.sciencedaily.com /releases/2010/07/100708104320.htm
(2) American Chemical Society (2009, July 23). Stop And Smell The Flowers -- The Scent Really Can Soothe Stress. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 11, 2010, from http://www.sciencedaily.com /releases/2009/07/090722110901.htm
(3) Eur J Appl Physiol. 2005 Oct;95(2-3):107-14. Laboratory of Nutrition Chemistry, Division of Food Science and Biotechnology, Graduate School of Agriculture, Kyoto University, Kitashirakawa Oiwake-cho, Kyoto, Japan
Sunday, July 4, 2010
With Elderberry, the proof is in the petri dish
(first published 12/2009)
European elderberry (sambucus nigra) has been used medicinally for thousands of years, for everything from colds and the flu to sprains and rheumatism. It turns out there is good reason for this: the chemicals that give elderberries their purple color contain a class of compounds called anthocyanins, which are more potent antioxidants than vitamin C and other common sources of antioxidants. And studies have demonstrated that elderberry’s anthocyanins have greater bioavailability than many other berry extracts, including blueberries, cranberries, raspberries, and strawberries. So you could say that elderberry antioxidants give you more bang for your antioxidant buck.
Enhanced immune system
But the elderberry story goes further. Elderberry extract has been shown to increase the production of several cytokines: interferons, interleukin-6, interleukin-8, interleukin-10, and tumor necrosis factor-alpha (tnf-ά). Cytokines are chemical messengers in our immune system that enhance cellular response to invaders.....
Antiviral vigor
In the 1970s, Algerian virologist Dr Madeleine Mumcuoglu became interested in the elderberry plant because of its long history. In the course of her research, she isolated a potent antiviral compound – Antivirin – that prevents viruses from entering and infecting host cells. The result of Dr. Mumcuoglu’s work is Sambucol®, a standardized extraction of elderberry using proprietary methods. Normal extractions do not appear to contain the Antivirin compound that gives Sambucol® its unique and powerful flu-fighting properties.....(more at link)
http://www.goodtern.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/goodtern_winter.pdf
European elderberry (sambucus nigra) has been used medicinally for thousands of years, for everything from colds and the flu to sprains and rheumatism. It turns out there is good reason for this: the chemicals that give elderberries their purple color contain a class of compounds called anthocyanins, which are more potent antioxidants than vitamin C and other common sources of antioxidants. And studies have demonstrated that elderberry’s anthocyanins have greater bioavailability than many other berry extracts, including blueberries, cranberries, raspberries, and strawberries. So you could say that elderberry antioxidants give you more bang for your antioxidant buck.
Enhanced immune system
But the elderberry story goes further. Elderberry extract has been shown to increase the production of several cytokines: interferons, interleukin-6, interleukin-8, interleukin-10, and tumor necrosis factor-alpha (tnf-ά). Cytokines are chemical messengers in our immune system that enhance cellular response to invaders.....
Antiviral vigor
In the 1970s, Algerian virologist Dr Madeleine Mumcuoglu became interested in the elderberry plant because of its long history. In the course of her research, she isolated a potent antiviral compound – Antivirin – that prevents viruses from entering and infecting host cells. The result of Dr. Mumcuoglu’s work is Sambucol®, a standardized extraction of elderberry using proprietary methods. Normal extractions do not appear to contain the Antivirin compound that gives Sambucol® its unique and powerful flu-fighting properties.....(more at link)
http://www.goodtern.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/goodtern_winter.pdf
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