As seen on the Natural History Society of Maryland’s Facebook page on April 7, 2020, violets are a bloomin’ and this is a good time to forage for them. There is no time like a pandemic to try something new.
I Googled ‘recipes for violets’ and one in particular caught my eye, a recipe for violet simple syrup featuring a heavenly, overexposed and white hot bright image of a bottle filled with rich, purple liquid next to a charming preserve jar full of violets. I could practically hear the angels singing.
My neighbor’s front yard was a sea of violets. I shared the recipe with her and the neighbor on the other side of me because I thought it might be an activity we could share, while maintaining our social distance. Those two women knew better. I foraged alone.
A beautiful carpet of violets. (Photo by Patty Dowd)
I began picking all the violets in my back yard. The sun felt great on my back, and as the hours passed, I warmed enough to remove my fleece jacket. You read that correctly: as the HOURS passed.
Do you have any idea how long it takes to forage 4 cup of violets?
I didn’t either.
About one and a half cups in I concluded that my wee yard would not yield more than 1 and three quarters of a cup. What to do? While my neighbor’s yard abundantly populated with violets taunted me, I couldn’t shake the knowledge that, not only do they have a dog, but that our street is a dog-walking highway. I chose to forgo violets from that front yard.
Plan B.
I began emailing and texting local friends with large, dog-free yards. Several of them responded and more than a couple of them had just mowed their lawns. Of course they had.
Thankfully, I reached a friend mid-mow. He offered to pick some violets while taking a break from mowing. I thanked him profusely while stifling the urge to call him a sucker.
Another friend invited me over to her house. We visited at a distance while I crawled around her yard like a toddler – a middle-aged, overweight toddler. At one point her college-aged daughter, sent home from a semester overseas because of COVID-19, sat out back with us but couldn’t be cajoled into helping. But I was able to pull a “Huck Finn” and convince my friend that it was F-U-N to pick violets for a couple of hours. We were rewarded with a visit from a sweet little garter snake that we wouldn’t have had the honor of seeing had we not been on our own bellies.
Violet picking in the time of social distancing. (Photo by Patty Dowd)
More friends contacted me about violet viability in their yards. I convinced one that picking violets was a very Zen activity and just what we needed “in these uncertain times.” My Zen friend must have achieved the highest level of happiness because she was quite successful in filling up a pint jar of the prettiest white and light purple violets! What a delightful contribution to my measuring cup!
I, or I should say we, almost met MY goal of 4 cups of violets. It was nearing dinner-time, so I hustled over to my lawn-mowing friend who nonchalantly produced two half pint jars of the most royal purple violets. How, I asked, could he have picked so many in such short time? Ironically the mission had indeed been a Zen experience for him, and I hadn’t even tried to trick him into thinking it was! He actually thanked me for providing a way for him to clear his head and relax. OK?! You’re welcome.
Finally! Four cups of violets. (Photo by Patty Dowd)
Home I rushed with the violets so I could place them in a cup of gently warmed water, step two of the process. I’m not going to lie to you. At this point I was resentful of those little flowers and it took all I had in me to follow the precious recipe. The flowers steeped in a cup of water for 24 hours.
When the steeping time was up, I scrunched small amounts of soggy flowers against the inside of an old, fine-mesh coffee filter. Each blob of soggy flowers produced a scant amount of deep purple drops. When I had squeezed and wrung out the last of the flowers, I had a cup of the deepest jewel-toned, slightly sweet, slightly earthy liquid. It about killed me to compost those heaps of drained violets after all the work that went into harvesting them.
The juice is worth the squeezing. (Photo by Patty Dowd)
The precious heavenly recipe called for simmering the violet water in a bain marie, but since no one I know actually owns one, I placed a small pot into a larger water filled pot and very slowly raised the heat just enough to cause the 2 cups of sugar I poured into the purple liquid to dissolve. It took a little time, but nothing compared to the amount of time foraging.
The sugar phase of the recipe. (Photo by Patty Dowd)
The precious heavenly recipe suggested adding a drop or two of lemon juice to turn the purple liquid transparent and more of a bright purple but I chose not to do that. I wanted that deep purple to be regarded as a badge!
A taste test proved to be a pleasant surprise. The syrup had a slight floral taste, balanced with a hint of earthiness. And the sugar made it ideal to drizzle on pancakes, pound cake, or ice cream.
Using the tiniest, cutest funnel that we have for who knows what reason, I poured the not-so-simple syrup into sterilized little bottles so I could share it with my minions, I mean friends. I shared a few bottles with some neighbors, too, because you never know when I might need to call in a toilet paper favor “in these uncertain times.”
The final product getting bottled. (Photo by Patty Dowd)
I don’t feel a need to ever repeat this exercise. One and done. However, the precious heavenly recipe did provide joy to those I shared it with. I was tempted to make little hang tags for the bottles that read ‘Drink me’ but the times we are living in are strange enough without venturing into a Wonderland.