Always Take Time to Stop and Smell the Roses…then eat them

Gathering dinner: dandelion greens, wax beans, and day lily buds will soon hit the pan with a bit of butter, salt, and pepper and be all the better for it! Photograph by Signe Langford

Wax beans, and day lily buds. Photograph by Signe Langford

by Signe Langford

Eating flowers is not as out there as it once was. Back in the 1990s only a handful of avant guard chefs were dotting their massive white plates with pretty posies. Now, it seems, almost everyone is doing it. In fact, you’ve been doing it for some time – eating flowers that is – possibly without even knowing it.

Capers are pickled Mediterranean nasturtium buds; vanilla is the stamen of a climbing yellow orchid native to Mexico; and the costly threads of saffron – another stamen – are plucked by hand from the centre of the deep purple saffron crocus; while the exotic perfume of roses and orange blossoms flavour many dishes in South East Asian, Mediterranean, and North African cuisine.

Some flowers make it to our tables incognito. Hops is a green flower that give beer bitterness and complexity of flavour; artichokes are really big thistles; and okra is a tasty member of the family Malvaceae – or mallow – which includes hollyhock, marshmallow, cotton and about 25 other siblings.

And we’re just getting started. We’ve not even touched on all the wonderful wild blossoms right there, under our noses – literally! – for the taking and potentially, baking.

Daylily. Photograph by Signe Langford

But first, here are a few edible flower dos and don’ts:

• If you haven’t tried eating a raw flower yet, try one then wait a while to see if you’re fine with it or allergic. If you have a pollen allergy, then eating flowers may not be for you.

• Only buy organic flowers from the grocer. Honestly, you’re better off growing your own, or buying from a certified organic grower or someone else you trust.

• This is a biggie: just because the flower is edible, it doesn’t necessarily mean the whole plant is. And vice versa; just because the plant is edible, it doesn’t necessarily mean the flower is. Plants store their chemicals—sometimes toxins—in different parts, so check first.

• Always wash delicately in cold water, and inspect for bugs.

• Never pick flowers from roadsides, along train tracks, or from lands and gardens you are not very familiar with. These plants may have been absorbing toxins and petro-chemicals.

• Don’t buy flowers to eat from the florist, they will most likely have been exposed to chemical fertilizers, pesticides, fungicides, perhaps even dyes.

• Again, this comes down to research, but depending on the flower, it may be best to remove pistils and stamens from the bloom, and eat only the petals.

• And never, ever, eat flowers that you do not know for 100 percent certain are edible. Once again, when in doubt, consult an expert.

Linden flowers.  Photograph by Signe Langford

From my own garden, I’ve enjoyed day lily, monarda, lilac, crabapple, eastern redbud, dandelion, linden, pansy, violets, clover, milkweed, rose, nasturtium, squash blossom, borage, marigold…and I’m sure I’m forgetting some pretty little thing.

Clover. Photograph by Signe Langford

Clover. Photograph by Signe Langford

Edible flowers can be added to just about anything. Don’t just think sweets, candies, and desserts, many edible blooms are actually quite peppery–monarda is a blissful blend of sweet and heat!—and make brilliant additions to savoury dishes.

Fresh red clover flowers are meaty, chewy, and taste like raw green beans. Add flowers to salads or as a stunning garnish to any dish, hot or cold, raw or cooked. Work pretty blossoms into foods where they’ll still get to shine; nestled into pancakes in the pan, dropped last minute into crepe batter, pressed into raw cookies before baking or into frosting; or even rolled into fresh pasta sheets.

While researching my second book – all about gardening and cooking with indigenous edible plants, no publisher yet! – I discovered so very much and yes, I ate a lot of weeds and wild flowers.

Here’s my recipe for Milkweed Simple Syrup 

Milkweed is a plant that continues to astound and enchant me. I’ve learned that First Nations people used to boil milkweed flowers in water; they’d let the water boil down until there was nothing but a thick, sweet, syrup left. This they would use as sugar.

And while I don’t didn’t feel compelled to re-enact history, I do think a milkweed-infused sweet syrup would be nice in cocktails so…

Milkweed flower. Photograph by Signe Langford

The makings of Milkweed Simple Syrup. Photograph by Signe Langford

I simply boiled up about 2 cups (500 mL) of water and added an equal amount of sugar. Once the sugar was all dissolved, I allowed it to cool for about 10 minutes while I prepared my jar.

Into a large mason jar I added about 5 of the loveliest milkweed flowers I could find; making sure there were no bugs or spiders lurking, and then poured the warm syrup in.

I put the lid on and allowed it all to steep for about 1 week; then discarding the flowers.

What resulted was a pretty pink, curiously herbaceous, sweet and mucilaginous syrup that works beautifully with gin!

Summer Celebration Salad. Photograph by Donna Griffith.

Summer Celebration Salad with Feta, Watermelon, Berries and Petals with a Blueberry Honey Vinaigrette

For the greens and herbs in this salad pick any combination of exotic or conventional, wild or domesticated: arugula, spinach, dandelion, lamb’s quarters, nasturtium leaves, baby kale, or even experiment with a few tender springtime maple leaves.

Likewise, pick whatever edible petals and berries you have on hand at the moment; in this recipe, I’m listing the flowers that I used to make the one in the photo, but you can get even more exotic, think sweetly scented maple, hawthorn, linden or eastern redbud blossoms or pluck petals from arrowhead, bee balm, chicory, eastern spring beauty, red clover, roses, evening primrose and spiderwort.

And, seriously, use this salad to celebrate summer as well as spring; just change up the combination of ingredients to reflect the season!

1 cup (250 mL) tender new peas, blanched

1 small purple onion, halved, then thinly sliced

1 cup (250 mL) feta, cubed

2 cups (500 mL) watermelon, cubed

½ cup (125 mL) fresh blueberries; or raspberries, serviceberries, mulberries…

5 small radishes, trimmed and very thinly sliced (about 1 cup/250 mL)

½ an English cucumber, very thinly sliced

About 1 cup (250 mL) of mixed leaves, domestic and wild

1 Tbsp (15 mL) finely chopped mint

4 daylily flowers, stamens removed, petals separated

4 nasturtium flowers, whole or petals separated

1 frilly type marigold, green part removed, petals separated (if using single bloom marigolds, use 4)

Blueberry Honey Vinaigrette 

I use Canadian blueberry honey—those busy bees keep North American blueberry bushes in fruit! – Featherstone Winery’s verjus, and Canadian-grown canola oil from Pristine Gourmet; it’s beautiful, deep-yellow, nutty stuff.

3 Tbsp (45 mL) olive or local cold pressed canola oil

1 Tbsp (15 mL) verjus or very good apple cider vinegar

1 Tbsp (15 mL) blueberry honey

1 tsp (5 mL) Dijon-style mustard

¼ tsp (1 mL) sea salt

Black pepper to taste

To make the vinaigrette, add the oil, verjus or vinegar, honey, mustard, salt and pepper to a medium bowl and whisk until well blended. Set aside.

To make the salad, blanch the peas. Bring a medium saucepan of salted water to the boil over high heat. Add the peas and boil for 1 minute. Drain and transfer peas to a bowl of icy water. Allow to sit in the cold water until the peas are completely cooled, then drain and set aside to dry a bit.
Into a very large bowl add all the salad ingredients, including the cooled and drained peas, add the vinaigrette, and very gently toss; petals bruise easily. Tumble onto a serving platter and garnish with a final drizzle of honey.

Serves 4 as a starter

This post was written by Signe Langford

Signe Langford is a restaurant-chef-turned-writer who tells award-winning stories and creates delicious recipes. She is a frequent contributor to the Globe and Mail, National Post, Toronto Life, Canadian Living and Garden Making magazines. In 2105, Signe published her first book Happy Hens & Fresh Eggs; Keeping Chickens in the Kitchen Garden- with 100 Recipes. 

Raised in the town of Hudson, Quebec Signe grew up surrounded by an ever changing menagerie of critters, both wild and domestic, and her special affection for all feathered creatures has never flagged. At present, she shares a downtown Toronto Victorian with a tiny flock of laying hens. For more stories and recipes please visit www.signelangford.com

Hen Therapy

Kids and hens helping each other heal. Photograph by Signe Langford

by Signe Langford

If you’ve spent any amount of time online, no doubt you’ve seen the adorable videos of fluffy hens visiting seniors’ homes in the UK and Australia. If you haven’t; do, you’ll be glad you did!

Then there’s Little Miss Sunshine. No, not the movie, but rather, the genius chicken from down under; and Jokgu the musical hen from America’s Got Talent; she’ll make you reconsider your menu choices tonight.

Miss Vicky was my most eager gardening assistant and a real snuggler too. 

Photograph by Donna Griffith.

Baby came to me from another backyard coop; she would have spent every hour of every day

 in my arms if I'd let her! Photograph by Donna Griffith.

Most folks don’t give a second thought to the inner life of a chicken. But, if you’ve spent some one-on-one time getting to know them, they you know there is so much more going on than meets the eye. Yes, we eat them, and yes, they have personalities, intelligence, and a social life. They can do us humans good – beyond supplying us with eggs and meat.

It was at Cobble Hills Farm Sanctuary, just outside Stratford, Ontario, where I began learning about the good hens can do. Author and adoption advocate, Christen Doidge Shepherd, was in the business of rescuing ‘spent hens’ from local egg factory farms and mentoring troubled kids from two nearby group homes. Her eureka moment came when she put the two together – broken, unwanted hens and throw-away kids – to look after each other on her farm. That’s right, look after each other.

A "spent hen"; a throw away of the industrial egg business. Photograph by Signe Langford

Discarded egg layers feel a loving touch for the first time. Photograph by Signe Langford

Fast friends! Photograph by Signe Langford

Christen lets each kid pick a hen of their own to care for, starting with a much needed nail trimming for these cage-bound hens. “It’s incredible to see the gentleness these kids show to their hens; to see them so gently handling them and giving them pedicures. It’s just lovely.” Christen just beams when she tells me this. And this is huge. These are kids who have suffered every manner of neglect and abuse. Love and gentleness isn’t something they know or express with people very often, if at all. But it’s different with the hens. Christen has seen the transformation first hand; “People think these kids are lost, but they’re not, they just need the chance to show how good they really are.” Caring for a little hen that was treated much as they were is the key that unlocks their hurting hearts.

As the days pass, the hens and kids learn to trust each other. The hens get healthy in body and mind, and so do the kids, gaining self-esteem, empathy, and a real sense of accomplishment. These are kids

who have been labeled “aggressive” or “incapable of connection”, but when they lovingly hold a soft, clucking, hen they can trust and make eye contact – perhaps for the first time in their short lives.

Backyard chickens can be just as loving a pet as a dog or cat. Sadly, as a society, we continue to underestimate them. Each little lady I’ve had in my coop has had her own personality, quirks, and food preferences, but they all come running just the same, when they hear the front door.

This post was written by Signe Langford

Signe Langford is a restaurant-chef-turned-writer who tells award-winning stories and creates delicious recipes. She is a frequent contributor to the Globe and Mail, National Post, Toronto Life, Canadian Living and Garden Making magazines. In 2105, Signe published her first book Happy Hens & Fresh Eggs; Keeping Chickens in the Kitchen Garden- with 100 Recipes. 

Raised in the town of Hudson, Quebec Signe grew up surrounded by an ever changing menagerie of critters, both wild and domestic, and her special affection for all feathered creatures has never flagged. At present, she shares a downtown Toronto Victorian with a tiny flock of laying hens. For more stories and recipes please visit www.signelangford.com

Froufrou Chocolate Chiffon Cake

From the book Happy Hens & Fresh Eggs: Keeping Chickens in the Kitchen Garden – with 100 Recipes, ©2015, by Signe Langford, Photography by Donna Griffith. Published by Douglas & McIntyre. Reprinted with permission of the publisher.

By Signe Langford 

Ah, summertime. If raspberry bushes grow in your garden, they’re most likely laden and begging to be enjoyed right now.

But even if you don’t have any of those spiky, rambling, rather aggressive plants at home, no worries! Supplies of the juicy, ripe, red berries runneth over in the markets, at roadside stands, pick-your-own farms, and dangling ever so temptingly from wild plants in fields and forests.

Photo by Signe Langford

Raspberries, along with blackberries, salmonberry, dewberries, boysenberries, loganberries, and many more, including hybrids, are members of the rubus family of fruit-bearing woody plants or shrubs native to much of North America. Hundreds of varieties of rubus – a branch of the rosaceae family – grow and are enjoyed throughout the world.

Some species ramble and crawl, some stand upright then flop over; all are vigorous growers and spreaders and defensively prickly, though, there are thorn-less varieties to be found in garden shops.

Some gardeners love ‘em, some hate ‘em. At the very least, it’s a real case of NIMBYism. We love raspberries, just not in my backyard!

Actually, I do love them in my backyard. I don’t mind taking the time to hack back those determined shoots as needed; the fruit is just so worth it! And for instant gratification, there aren’t too many more accommodating plants; they grow quickly, are hardy and tolerant, and fruit abundantly until frost. The birds love to eat the berries and hide from predators in the thorny tangle. And if garden space is plentiful, a row of rubus makes a wonderful, living, edible fence.

Photo by Signe Langford

I love raspberries in drinks, jam, pancakes, or just dolloped with whipped cream. They’re amazing fresh, and freeze really well for use in cooking and baking. For raspberries recycled into rich, wonderful eggs, I share my haul with the hens who patrol the garden.

And with those fresh eggs and sweet raspberries the baking possibilities are almost endless! 

From the book Happy Hens & Fresh Eggs: Keeping Chickens in the Kitchen Garden – with 100 Recipes, ©2015, by Signe Langford, Photography by Donna Griffith. Published by Douglas & McIntyre. Reprinted with permission of the publisher.

Froufrou Chocolate Chiffon Cake

serves 8 to 10

Mother had her specialties: a menu of a handful of sweets and savouries she’d only do for company. She made a baba au rhum that took a full day of drenching in rum so it soaked it all up. She’d make it when her friends Max and Nancy were over for dinner— he swooned over the booziness of it and Mother swooned over Max’s attention and compliments. I watched all of this with fascination, especially the final few splashes of warm rum she’d pour over the cake while she was getting dressed for the party.

Standing at the dark-brown stove in pantyhose with a few curlers still bobbling on her head, she’d dip her measuring cup into the pot of rum and melted apricot jam and pour it over the sponge-like baba that seemed to have an endless capacity for more rum. This throat-burning, yeasty, not-nearly-sweet-enough cake was a cruel trick to play on a kid.

But this cake—her magnificent pale chocolate chiffon cake slathered in deep drifts of soft-beige whipped cream—met all of my expectations and more. Most astonishing was the depth of whipped cream, and the way she filled the centre cavity, top to bottom, with even more whipped cream—I’d never seen such decadence, such abandon, such a girly, froufrou confection. I’ve made it more summery, with a healthy slathering of raspberry whipped cream, a smear of extra jam and a nice pile of fresh berries.

Photo by Jeff Coulson

Raspberry Whipped Cream

3 cups (710 mL) 35 percent cream

2 Tbsp (30 mL) super-fine (berry) sugar

⅔ cup (160 mL) homemade raspberry jam (or excellent-quality store-bought), plus extra for garnishing

2 tsp (10 mL) pure vanilla extract

Pinch fine sea salt

½ cup (120 mL) fresh raspberries, for garnishing

Cake

½ cup (120 mL) loosely packed pure cocoa (I like

fair trade)

½ cup (120 mL) boiling water

½ cup (120 mL) neutral vegetable oil

½ cup (120 mL) buttermilk

2 tsp (10 mL) pure vanilla extract

6 egg yolks, at room temperature

1¾ cups (415 mL) sifted cake flour

2 tsp (10 mL) baking powder

1 tsp (5 mL) fine sea salt

1¼ cups (300 mL) packed brown sugar

7 egg whites, at room temperature

½ tsp (2.5 mL) cream of tartar

½ cup (120 mL) sugar

01. Preheat oven to 325F (160C) and adjust the oven rack to the bottom third of the oven.

02. Add all of the raspberry whipped cream ingredients to the bowl of a stand mixer with the whisk attachment and start beating on low, gradually increasing the speed to medium high. Whip until soft peaks form. Cover and set aside in the fridge until ready to ice the cake.

03. In a small bowl, whisk the cocoa powder with the boiling water until perfectly smooth. Add the oil, buttermilk and vanilla to the cocoa liquid and whisk to combine. Whisk in the egg yolks.

04. Into a large mixing bowl, sift the flour, baking powder and salt. Add the brown sugar and stir, crushing any lumps. Add the chocolate liquid mixture to the flour mixture and stir just to combine. Do not over-work or the batter will be tough.

05. Wipe out a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer with a drop of lemon juice or vinegar.

Using the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites on medium speed until frothy. Add the cream of tartar to the egg whites, increase the speed to medium-high and continue to whisk until soft-peak stage. Reduce speed to medium and gradually add the sugar, then increase speed back up to high to firm, glossy peaks.

06. Add about a third of the whipped egg whites to the chocolate batter and gently fold to incorporate. Add the remaining egg whites and very gently fold in to evenly incorporate.

07. Pour the batter into an ungreased angel food cake pan and bake in the lower third of the oven for about 55 minutes. The cake should bounce back when touched and a skewer inserted near the centre should come out clean.

08. Transfer baked cake to a cooling rack to cool completely before removing from pan. When cool, run a knife around the edges, then invert directly onto serving plate; you don’t want to handle it too much.

09. Now, some folks like to slice this tall cake into layers and spread the whipped cream between all the layers, but I leave it whole and fill the centre hole with cream. First drop the raspberry whipped cream into the middle, one spoonful at a time. Then use a spatula to spread the rest of the cold whipped cream all over the top and sides.

10. Use the back of a spoon to spread a little more raspberry jam over the top of the cake, then pile up with fresh berries. Serve immediately or pop into the fridge to set; the whipped cream will soon slide and fall at room temperature.

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Recipe from the book Happy Hens & Fresh Eggs: Keeping Chickens in the Kitchen Garden – with 100 Recipes, ©2015, by Signe Langford, Photography by Donna Griffith. Published by Douglas & McIntyre. Reprinted with permission of the publisher.

About the author:

Signe Langford is a restaurant-chef-turned-writer who tells award-winning stories and creates delicious recipes. She is a frequent contributor to the Globe and Mail, National Post, Toronto Life, Canadian Living and Garden Making magazines. In 2105, Signe published her first book Happy Hens & Fresh Eggs; Keeping Chickens in the Kitchen Garden- with 100 Recipes. 

Raised in the town of Hudson, Quebec Signe grew up surrounded by an ever changing menagerie of critters, both wild and domestic, and her special affection for all feathered creatures has never flagged. At present, she shares a downtown Toronto Victorian with a tiny flock of laying hens. For more stories and recipes please visit www.signelangford.com