Elderberry Lozenges

Elderberry Lozenges

 

1.5 litres of water

Approximately 1.5kg elderberries

3 C sugar

1 tsp cream of tartar

1 tsp butter

1 tsp lemon juice

 

Combine water and berries in a large saucepan.  Bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes.  Remove from heat, cover and let stand for approximately 30 minutes.

 

Strain, discarding berries and reserving the liquid.

 

Combine liquid, sugar and cream of tartar in a medium saucepan.  Slowly bring to a boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Cook, without stirring until mixture reaches 104˚C (220˚F).  Add butter, do not stir.

 

Continue cooking without stirring, until mixture reaches hard crack stage (150˚C - 300˚F).

Add lemon juice (do not stir) and gently shake the pan.

 

Pour syrup into buttered dish.  Allow to cool a little, until you can pinch off a piece without it being too sticky.  Roll into balls or spoon into moulds.  Cool until firm and wrap.

 

 

The original recipe said to mark in 1” squares and cut or break when completely cool.  I tried this the first time and ended up with a solid glass-like mass that would not break apart.  I had spent about an hour running the knife through to mark the squares and then couldn’t lift them out of the dish.  I had to reheat the entire batch and try again.  This is why I shape them into balls (which generally flatten) or pour into moulds.

 

If kept in the fridge, the lozenges do stick together a bit, but are easily pulled apart.  If stored in the pantry, they gradually meld together into a jar shaped mega-lozenge. I still have two jars of horehound candy waiting for me to reheat and reshape them.

 

I wrapped the most recent batch in gladwrap.  It made it a long and painstaking process, but they are magic for a sore throat so I feel it was worth it.

Any herb you may be wanting to use can be substituted in for elderberries.  

February Foragings

 

I had promised myself I would be doing plenty with my usual foraging fare this year.  Three times I made it around the farm picking plums, blackberries and elderberries before the rain hit.  The first two times, I was able to wash, weigh and bag the berries and put them in the fridge to wait for a bigger volume.  After I'd made eight jars of plum jam. The third time I had to throw it all away, I had just started to take the elderberries off the stalks when I got the news about my friend and wasn’t able to come back to them for over a week. 

 

Last weekend, I went for a big forage, hoping that I hadn’t missed too much.  Because of all the rain, the creek is still running, which is pretty much unheard of in February.  So I went out with Hubby’s waders on.  I wasn’t wearing a belt to hook the side straps up to, but I thought since they reached mid-thigh, I should be right.

 

The blackberry pick was impressive.  In two hours, splashing through the creek to reach them, I picked nearly 3kg.  I only stopped when I misjudged a deep part of the creek and filled up one wader.

 

I’d already filled a bucket with elderberries from three young trees that have turned up on the fence line.  There are more berries than leaves on two of them, and the majority are still not quite ripe.

 

I spent a morning sorting, washing and stripping the berries. 3kg of blackberries has turned into something partway between jam and jelly.  I used a jam recipe but ran it through the mouli to remove all the seeds. It’s not set as well as I would like, but it’s set enough and there are 10 jars of blackberry jam in the pantry.

 

I spent a day adapting a horehound candy recipe to make elderberry lozenges.  They haven’t quite set as well as I’d like, but I wrapped them and keep them in the fridge so they’ll do.

 

I’ve started a batch of elderberry wine, with whatever blackberries I had leftover in too.  I have been making elderberry wine for eleven years now, I’m sure this is the first one that started bubbling almost as soon as I put the bubbler into the barrel.

 

All the summer rain has made the mushrooms grow well.  Not that I can find them easily.  After the last few years of drought, I made the decision that we had too many animals and the paddocks needed some resting.  I’m now down to two cows (from five last year) and ten adult sheep (it was more than twenty). With all the rain, the paddocks I’m resting are growing like I’ve never seen before.  I almost have too much feed.  It's more good luck than anything else spotting field mushrooms in knee-high grass.

 

However, the stocks of frozen fried mushrooms are being replenished.

 

So while it feels like the rest of the world has gone mad with a pandemic, protests and potential war in Europe, I feel like my little corner of the world is doing ok.

Late February in My Vege Garden

 

After a fairly hellish month, my vege garden is a jungle.  Two weeks of heavy rain, one tropical cyclone, the unexpected passing of my closest friend, a covid scare with isolation and my garden is a place best described as survival of the fittest.

The pumpkins seem to be making a run for the title of ruler of this jungle.  They are smothering most of the competition, all of the paths and also managing to grow some big fat healthy looking pumpkins.

 

The beans don’t think much of this and are climbing the sunflowers to escape.

 

My single courgette plant seems determined to join the uprising and is trying to reach the ground to either take on the pumpkins or join them.

 

The beetroot is still bravely growing under and over the sneaky tendrils, although a rather large pumpkin has managed to jam their transportation.

 

The first lot of peas I planted along the net on the edge of the tunnel house keep trying and frequently show new growth, but they have gotten fairly dismal on the whole. But the second sowing has taken off to be taller than me and growing masses of fat pods with juicy peas.  It’s unclear what they think of the attempted pumpkin coup, but perhaps they haven’t noticed because they’re somewhat removed from it.

 

Most of the tomatoes, cucumber and chillies just don’t seem to care.  The cherry tomatoes are possibly making a run of their own and aiming to close the borders.

 

The carrots in the water trough were drowned in the rain and have surrendered peacefully. Or so it seems, I don’t know if they’re going to just rot or try for a more hydroponic lifestyle. Who can tell?

 

It seems my garden heard my idea of it being a surprise around every corner and took it to heart.