Full Nettle Jacket

Laying out some new black mesh sheeting between the runner beans to keep the weeds down

I wonder what single word you would choose if asked to describe your relationship with the stinging nettle. “Wary” might be one of the contenders. “Hate” could easily be chosen by those who have accidentally tripped into a clump of them as a young child. And for anyone who has tried to clear a patch of overgrown garden or patch of wasteland with its fair share of these harmless-looking yet vicious plants which always find a bare patch of skin regardless of how well covered you think you are, the mildest bon mot on offer is surely “annoyance”.

 

Not too many would choose the word “tasty”, I'll warrant. The very idea of putting something that stings in one's mouth, packed as it is full of sensory nerves, appears to be one that isn't worthy of a moment's reflection. But that's what the nettles want you to think!  If everyone realised that the sting disappears as soon as they're cooked, and that they are (a) appetising, (b) abundant, and (c) extremely good for you, then they would find life a good deal harder and there would be a lot less of them hanging around on lane corners waiting for children to fall into them. Let me quote from Roger Phillip's “Wild Food” : “Nettles contain iron, formic acid, ammonia, silicic acid and histamine. These chemicals aid the relief of rheumatism, sciatica and allied ailments. They increase the haemoglobin in the blood, improve the circulation, purify the system and have a generally toning effect on the whole body. Nettles also lower the blood pressure and blood sugar level.” There you have it – nature's wonder food! Forget quinoa, get me a gloveful of nettles.

Finally got a tap installed next to the polytunnel!

Avid followers of this humble blog may remember a posting a year ago in which I described the eating of some nettles I'd picked just outside my caravan. “Ha!” they are thinking, “he's run out of ideas and just rehashing his old posts. I'm off to browse my Twitter feed for a few hours instead”. But wait! Yes, 'tis true that I have previously eaten them, and am continuing to do so (I can feel that silicic acid kicking in!) but with so many of them around on my land I thought I'd try something else to use up the rest of them, and convert them into alcohol. (People reading this at Pilsdon Community can look away now).

Nettle beer has, I'm sure, been around for a long time, probably arising around the same era as the invention of gloves to pick them with. The process of making it is simple enough -  just boil them up in a gallon of water, take them out, stir in sugar, lemon juice (optional), and some cream of tartar, and wait for it to cool before adding yeast. I poured the resulting brown juice into a demijohn, put the bung in with the clever airlock device sticking through it (it lets out the gas produced by fermentation without letting air or bugs in) and placed it in the caravan awning to do its thing where for a day or two it filled the awning with a delightful sweet aroma. Apparently it only needs a week before you can start to sample it unlike homebrew wines, most of which apparently require the patience of a saint to wait for two years or more.

As I only started it going last Friday I have yet to taste any but check back next week to see what new word, if any, will best describe how my nettle-relationship has changed. It turns out that my nearest neighbour is also making nettle beer for the first time, so I'm looking forward to a session of comparing our two vintages. Meanwhile the nettles are growing back so the question of what to do when the gallon runs out almost answers itself. 

The rest I've shoved into the full water butt to make a natural fertiliser liquid for the veg