Capturing the Elusive Violet

The Elusive Fragrance of Violet

I've been, along with many others, attempting to capture it's ethereal aroma in a bottle for a very long time. After working on two violet perfumes for over a year it finally occurred to me that I needed to stop everything I was doing and once again focus on creating a violet accord.

The elusive shrinking violet. The chemicals in them that give them their signature scent are ionones, specifically alpha and beta ionones. After having purchased a bottle of the isolated molecule alpha ionone from the talented Mandy Aftel I thought I was all the way there. What I realized was that it was only part of the equation.  I'd been using alpha ionone as the violet note and building around that.  What I needed was an accord (including alpha ionone) that I could use as a single note.

I did a little research on the chemical makeup of the violet and found some formulas for synthetic violet accords.  Once I had that I searched for natural oils that share some of that chemical makeup. Alpha ionone is a tricky substance to work with.  It awards the sniffer with a temporary anosmia after one or two whiffs making it particularly difficult as you have to take constant breaks to allow your nose to catch up.  After many trials I finally hit on something that captures the note in a pleasing way. At least I think I have.  Alpha ionone is the shapeshifter of all time, it changes constantly.

Now I begin working on my perfume again, basically starting from scratch using the accord as a single element. The one I'm working on currently is really a request from a small group of fans of one of my earliest perfumes, The Nethermead, named after a very special meadow in Prospect Park, Brooklyn. You must traverse The Midwood, an original managed forrest, and cross The Ambergill Ravine to get to the violet strewn meadow. The original perfume used synthetics of violet and amber, which I would never do now, with atlas cedarwood on the top. The amber note is being replicated by an amber accord I made a while back which is mostly labdanum paired with smokey fossilized amber. Violet accord will predominate the heart of the perfume along with coffee flower and nutmeg absolute.  I'm playing around with a variety of cedarwoods, primarily Japanese hinoki, and linalool rich ho wood. All subject to change, of course!

Yes, elusive, to say the least.  A plant with an aroma that robs the nose of its abilities is very elusive indeed. Stranger still is the fact that those beautiful purple flowers the plant sends up in the spring are not really flowers at all, they have no sexual parts.  The true flower comes up later in the season, loaded with seeds.

The violets that grow in my area, although lovely, have no particular scent.  The ones that do, viola odorata, are hard to come by.  I've attempted starting them from seed to no avail.  Last week the talented and darling Dabney Rose sent me four fragrant violet plants in the US Mail.  They're now safely tucked away in my community garden plot.  May they thrive and multiply!  Many thanks to Dabney!

My nose should be rested by now, time to roll around in a meadow of violets.

Hawthorn Berry for Heart Health

This past fall I started to feel unwell.  It began on a walk home from a friend's in September, I noticed a heaviness in my chest and a burning pain.  Thinking it was an aberration I went out again the next night for my evening walk up and down the historical streets of my Brooklyn neighborhood but it happened again.  It continued until I finally made an appointment to see my pulmonologist.  She sent me for a slew of tests and had me make an appointment with a cardiologist who sent me for an MRI of my heart.  They found an area of ischemia which I learned was a restriction of blood supply to tissues.  While we were deliberating what to do about it my symptoms worsened and one afternoon while in my doctor's office he declared that he wasn't going to let me leave the hospital without an angiogram.  Frightened and anxious I underwent the procedure and was informed that I had one blocked artery, 99% blocked.  I had been reading about stents and seriously didn't want one but in this case it saved my life.  I spent the night in the hospital while staff regularly stopped in to congratulate me for walking into the hospital before actually having a heart attack.

It's been a wake up call, to say the least.  I have a pretty good diet, usually eat pretty low saturated fats, almost always choose whole grains, careful with sweets and even grow my own organic vegetables. Clearly there is room for improvement.  Living in the city I do a fair amount of walking but I realize I need quite a bit more exercise and plan on joining my local Y.

Aside from those changes I've also added some heart healthy herbs.  I'd heard about Hawthorn Berry (Crateaugus oxycanthus) many years ago on one of the many weed walks I've attended in Prospect Park.  I've known of its action of regulating blood pressure so took another look at it.  It's used to promote the health of the circulatory system and treats angina, high blood pressure, congestive heart failure and cardiac arrhythmia.  It's known to strengthen the heart and is used widely in Europe as a safe and effective treatment for the early stages of heart disease.  It's ability to strengthen blood vessels makes it particularly enticing to me as I'm now on meds to thin my blood (to ensure that the stent works its wonders).  Bruising and small cuts are going to be an issue so strengthening my capillaries is especially important.

There are other herbs including bilberry, horse chestnut and ginkgo that are known for improved heart health but considering the meds I'm taking I decided to keep it simple.  Every winter I drink oatstraw daily so I've combined the two together with a little horsetail.  Oatstraw is great for your nerves, it lowers cholesterol and helps strengthen bones.  I simmer the herbs in a quart of water for ten minutes and drink three cups throughout the day.

Last fall I collected wild hawthorn berries and tinctured them so I'm happy to have tincture handy in case I can't be fussing with the tea.  It's available at my Etsy store here.

I should mention that you should check with your doctor before starting any herb regimen, especially if your health has already been compromised and you're taking medication.  Better safe than sorry!

Heavenly Linden

The linden trees are blooming in Brooklyn once again.  I wait for this time every year, the two weeks when the June air, just before the collasal summer heat, is heavenly sweet with linden.  The genus, Tilia, also called lime tree in Britian, is a deciduous tree with heart shaped leaves, native to Europe and North America.  The flowers are perfect, in other words bisexual, carrying both male and female parts and are pollinated by insects.  The trees can live for centuries and there is one in Gloucestershire that is deemed to be 2000 years old.

The ambrosial aroma of these tiny flowers draws millions of bees and creates linden honey, a pale colored honey despite it's strong aroma and taste.  The aroma is described as woody, pharmacy and fresh, also described as mint, balsamic, menthol and camphor.  Therapeutically the honey is used primarily for treating colds and fever and is said to strengthen the heart.  It is reputed to be one of the best tasting and most valuable honeys in the world.

Medicinally the flowers have been used by herbalists to cure insomnia and nervous anxiety.  A tissane is also good for colds, fevers and nervous headaches.  It is said to be one of the best herbs for hypertension, second only to hawthorne.

I took a walk up my block one morning and harvested about a pound of linden blossoms.  In the cool shade of the tree I had only to reach up and gently pull the copious blossoms into my muslin bag.  They're drying in baskets laid with parchment all over the kitchen.  I'm also tincturing some as I did last summer using successive batches of flowers macerated in the same alcohol.  I'm planning to use it as a perfume base.  It's a difficult aroma to capture and the absolutes I've sampled are lovely but don't come close to capturing it's elusive sweetness.  Even the co2's I've come across, although close, don't really possess it's charms.  It's on it's third round of flowers now and has turned a beautiful pale yellow/green.  The aroma is sweet and has taken on some of the notes in the flowers.  It doesn't have much tenacity and it's very faint but if the right notes are built around it and don't dominate it I think it will give some lovely top notes to a summery fragrance.  (More on tincturing later.)

In Proust's Swann's Way the narrator dips a petite madeleine into a cup of Tilia blossom tea. The aroma and taste of cake and tea triggers his first conscious involuntary memory.  Indeed, the gentle fragrance in the afternoon air triggers memories of June in the late 80's when I first moved to my neighborhood, Park Slope, and had to know where that iniminable fragrance was coming from.


"When from the distant past nothing remains, after the beings have died, after the things are destroyed and scattered, still, alone, more fragile, yet more vital, more insubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls, ready to remind us, waiting and hoping for their moment, amid the ruins of everything else; and bear unfaltering, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the immense architecture of memory.

"Yet again I had recalled the taste of a bit of madeleine dunked in a linden-flower tea which my aunt used to give me (although I did not yet know and must long await the discovery of why this memory made me so happy), immediately the old gray house on the street where her room was found, arose like a theatrical tableau…"

–Marcel Proust, Du côté de chez Swann (1913) in: À la recherche du temps perdu vol. 1, p. 47 (Pléiade ed. 1954)(S.H. transl.)

Acorn Shortbread

Back in October I wrote about the laborious process of making acorn flour.  I only was able to process three batches before my acorns deemed too wormy to continue.  My scant cup and a half of flour has been waiting in my 'fridge since then for a recipe worthy of my efforts.  Friends have had scads of ideas but all of them included lots of added flavor.  For all of my hard work I wanted the subtle nutty acorn-ness of the flour to come through.  Finally I decided on a simple shortbread.

All of my cookies start out, usually, with the original Betty Crocker Cookie Book.  It's where I learned to bake back in the 70's and it never fails.  The original shortbread recipe has been slightly altered to allow for my handcrafted flour (and my tendencies towards whole and organic foods).  At one time in my early adulthood I used to collect cookie cutters.  I still have them and to my delight there was an acorn leaf shape.  Perfection!

Acorn Shortbread

3/4 cup unsalted organic butter
1/4 cup unrefined sugar
1/2 cup acorn flour
1 and 1/2 cup unbleached white flour
1/4 t salt
fleur de sel

Mix butter and sugar thoroughly.  Work in flour and salt with hands.  Chill dough for at least one hour.  Heat oven to 350.  Roll dough out to 1/3 to 1/2" thick.  Cut to desired shape.  Sprinkle with fleur de sel.  Place on ungreased baking sheet for 20 to 25 minutes.  Allow to cool before removing from pan or cookies will crack.

Acorn Flour

Last year a good friend went through the laborious process of making acorn flour.  I was intrigued, being the urban forager that I am, but definitely put off by the amount of work.  Then she showed up one day with a slice of bread she'd made and I've been determined to try making it ever since.  The flavor was so intense, rich and flavorful so I was surprised that she only used a third of a cup of the flour along with a melange of unbleached white and whole wheat.

It's acorn season and I've been getting an education in oak trees.  I've learned to identify white oaks, which apparently are some of the sweetest acorns to find.  They're also a substantial size making them worth shucking.  I've collected a couple of pounds from three trees up in Prospect Park and am planning to go back for more.  I can already tell that this hefty bag of acorns is only going to make a small amount of flour, so as long as I'm putting in the time I might as well go all the way and collect more.

I've gotten a lot of information on how to do this from Hank Shaw of Hunter Angler Gardener Cook.  His biggest piece of advice on collecting them was to look for little worm holes and discard those.   Acorns are bitter from their high tannin content and the tannin has to be leached out.  I've seen a lot of different versions on how to do this but his cold water leaching method seems to be the most reasonable.

First you have to shuck the acorns - under water!  With the pointed end facing up I used a hammer to crack the acorns and then threw them into a pan of water.  The hulls are kind of elastic so some come off the nut quite easily while others need to be wrestled with.  Then I threw them in a blender filled with a couple of cups of water.  When I had about two cups of acorns in there I blended them up to make what looks like a coffee milkshake.  The sludge was then transferred into a large jar and filled with more water and put in the refrigerator.  Every day I poured off the water and added more, shook it up and placed it back in the 'fridge.  I did this for a week and then lined a colander with cheesecloth and poured the whole mess through.  Pulling the edges of the cheesecloth together I gently squeezed out as much water as I could.

Now the goal is to dry out the mass.  Spread it evenly on a cookie sheet (preferably one with sides) and set the oven on low.  Mine doesn't have a low setting so I warmed it to the lowest temperature and then turned it off and set the cookie sheet inside.  You don't want to bake the acorns, just dry them out so keep your eye on them.  It took a couple of hours of turning the oven on and off and checking periodically before it was ready.  I used a coffee grinder free of coffee residue to grind the dried mass into flour.  I have a separate one I use for spices so this worked perfectly.  In small batches try to grind the flour as fine as possible.

It's a lot of work for a small amount of flour, that's for sure.  While the first batch was drying in the oven I started shucking the second batch.  I figure I have three more trials to go and I'm hoping to be done in time for holiday baking.  I'll let you know how it goes, and whether it's worth the labor.  If it's as delicious as I remember I'll be thoroughly gratified.  Hank Shaw also has some delicious sounding recipes on his blog which you can find here.

Park Perfumes Review

The online gardening magazine Soiled and Seeded, dedicated to cultivating a garden culture, has been so kind as to review my trio of Park Perfumes.  This is some of my earliest work and includes some synthetic oils that I couldn't get in nature.  I'm in the process of revising those perfumes using only natural oils and utilizing some of the skills and experience I've accumulated over the past ten years.  The first to be finished is The Ambergill which formerly used a synthetic amber note.

After extensively researching amber I discovered that there is no real amber oil extracted from a plant. There is a pine tree in India that exudes a sap that a lot of it starts from, but then many processes occur and a proprietary blend of oils and macerations are added to create amber in many forms. Some are crystalized in beezwax so a mere touch melts on the fingertips.  These blends are closely guarded secret formulas.

I've had a bottle of amber oil for many years that I bought from the Persian perfume vendors on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. I knew that it was probably adulterated with synthetic materials but I liked that warm velvety chord and couldn't be deprived. This year I made my own proprietary blend with absolutes and essential oils. I'm happy to have come up with a blend I can use in my perfumes without resorting to it's synthetic counterpart.  From that I've created a scented Amber Oil.

Now that I had an amber chord to work with I went ahead and recreated The Ambergill, a perfume inspired by the beautiful Ambergill ravine and falls in the Prospect Park in Brooklyn, NY. A gill is a narrow stream-filled glen, which feeds a grotto known as the Amergill Pool, whose banks are populated by green herons, columbine, wild roses & blackberries. Amber, oakmoss & neroli are the peak notes of this warm perfume.

Spring Foraging Inspires (What Else?) New Cocktails

I took a long walk in Prospect Park last week with fellow naturalist and forager Josh Kalin in search of elderflowers in hopes of making elderflower liqueur.  With a little internet research I learned a few ways of creating it and how to identify the plant.  Unfortunately our search wound up empty, at least as far as elderflower was concerned.  We determined that the flowers weren't open yet and made arrangements to hunt again another day.

Not to be deterred we walked on and started hunting for other bounty.  The park is loaded with garlic mustard, a non-native "weed" that the park would rather eradicate.  It's one of the plants I don't feel any hesitation about harvesting knowing that it does more good than harm.  We also harvested violet leaves and flowers, curly dock and gout weed, and stopped to sample a few other things along the way as well.

Still, I had cocktails in mind, or at least the macerated elixirs that plants and spirits engender.  I remember long ago chomping on sassafras along the Long Meadow.  Josh remembered another sassafras tree in a wooded area and took us to the spot where he'd harvested before to make a sassafras root liqueur.  We climbed over a lot (I mean a lot) of downed trees from last year's tornado, as well as some of the other violent storms we've had the past year, looking for the small saplings that sprout but die soon after since there's not enough light to sustain them, all the while tripping over tree branches.

I picked both leaves and pulled up sapling roots.  The leaves I left to dry overnight since they seemed very watery.  The roots I gently scrubbed clean and left to dry overnight.  Then they were carefully cut up with my garden clippers as a knife didn't seem to do it.  They've been sitting in vodka for over a week now and I think I'll leave it a bit longer.  So far it smells earthy, licorice-y and definitely has notes of root beer.  The leaf I filtered the next day.  It's incredibly dark and viscous, I can't even see through the bottle.  I filtered it six days ago and there's no sediment and it hasn't clarified at all.  It tastes really nice, tho, and very different from the root.  I'm thinking sassafras and soda's in the garden this summer.

The best recent discovery was the sweet woodruff in the herb garden, but that's another story for later.