Oginiig, Rosehips recipe for Rose Sauce "Itchy jiid" (pronounced ''jeed,'' like ''seed'') was one of the first references to wild edible plants I learned as a kid. Or at least it was one of the most memorable, as it was always delivered by my father or one of his friends, accompanied by a snicker. We''ll return to that in a minute. Now ''jiid'' isn''t exactly a standalone word in the Anishinaabe language, but rather is spoken in terms of ''his jiid'' or ''her jiid'' or ''their jiid.'' So to say ''itchy jiid'' is kind of a slang usage. I''d never heard anyone outside of Red Lake call oginiig (oh-gin-eeg) this, but it wasn''t until I was an adult that I realized it must be somewhat of a localized term. It was my father who told me this name, ''itchy jiid,'' and it was my mother who told me the name ''rosehip.'' Growing up, my dad taught us about the plants around us in the environments of northern Minnesota.
My mother is a bookworm who loves to read about medicinal plants from across the globe and put them into practice. For example, she would calm us with celery seed, numb sore teeth with clove buds, and made sure we were eating our veggies. It''s obvious to me now that their appreciation for the plant world was combined and seeded into my own. For this, I am grateful. The rose is the focus of art, literature, music, festivities, food, medicine, and traditions spanning across continents and millennia. If you work with rosehips, you will know that you don''t ingest the seeds, for they are covered in irritating hairs. If you happen to do so, let''s just say you can expect an itchy departure. My dad knew this, and would instruct us to nibble around the middle where the seeds are, if we wanted to eat the fruit.
I always thought rosehips were like tiny, waxy, creamy apples, and loved finding them on our outdoor adventures. They were always firmer before snow, and afterwards, they would get mushier. When dried and eaten plain--which is a feat characterized with a special kind of crunchiness--I think oginiig taste like tomatoes, but when you cook dried or fresh rosehips, they smell and, with a little sweetener, taste more like apples. It''s not surprising that ''ogin,'' the Anishinaabe word for a rosehip, is also our word for a tomato. According to the USDA, rosehips are an excellent source of vitamins C and A, as well as fiber, and contain manganese, magnesium, calcium, potassium, iron, and other vitamins and minerals. Some people believe that the rose can help revive a person from emotional numbness, depression, and revitalize a desire to live in the moment. I can attest to this affect. A few years back, I was in the tail process of reviving myself from exactly such a state--a process that has taken decades to date--and I found myself in the Sioux Chef kitchen in Minneapolis, working with rose petals with my friend, and at the time kitchen manager, Andrea Weber.
We gave the petals a bath in chilled water, and added honey before putting them in a dehydrator. The smells from this entire process did indeed impress on me a desire to live more in charge of my own life--carpe diem, as they say. Working with the roses over those few days had an effect on me that I can still feel anytime I wish, by just remembering their smell and how beautiful their presence was. Anytime I have worked with roses since, it''s been the same. It''s almost as if they are the essence of love itself, which when you''re in need of self-love, can be a powerfully moving and uplifting force. I find much gratitude working with plants, and the rose has a special, integrated role in my plant-memory repository. -Rose Sauce- Rosehips and petals can be wild harvested, cultivated, and purchased at some local health food or herbal stores. ½ cup rosehips (seeds removed) ¼ - ½ cup maple sugar 1 ½ cups water Rose water (recipe below) In a small saucepan, bring water and rosehips to a boil.
Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and let simmer until the rosehips begin to soften (about 8 minutes). Uncover and simmer 5 minutes more (turn burner back up to medium heat). Stir. Add ¼ cup maple sugar and stir again. Allow mixture to simmer low, stirring occasionally until the rosehip sauce thickens and it is easy to blend most of the fruit bits fairly smooth. This can take 20-30 minutes. During this time, you can make your Rose Water. -Rose Water- ½ cup rose petals 1 cup water Boil water.
Remove from heat, stir in rose petals and cover. Let sit at least 5 minutes. Stir, cover and let sit another 5 minutes. Petals should be a much lighter color and the water should be a rose color. Strain. -Rose Sauce (cont.)- Turn off the heat. Whisk until sauce is as smooth as you can make it.
Allow to cool just a little. You can now either blend your sauce in a food processor or strain out the bits through a fine mesh strainer. If you blend it, you will have a little more fiber in your sauce. It''s delicious either way. Whisk in your rose water and another ¼ cup of maple sugar, if you want your sauce to be sweeter. You should end up with about 1 cup of rose sauce that has a color and consistency similar to barbecue sauce. This sauce has a potent rose flavor and can be incorporated into many recipes. Try marinating grilled meats and veggies with it, using it as a salad dressing, adding sparkling water to it to make wild-rose soda, spilling it on pancakes, blending it with other fruit sauces--the possibilities are endless--have fun exploring! I recently put this sauce on some sweet potato corn pudding along with sliced strawberries.
Here is a basic recipe for that, if you''d like to try something similar. -Sweet Potato Corn Pudding- 1 cup mashed sweet potato (can substitute pumpkin, applesauce, or mashed bananas) 1 cup cornmeal 3 cups water Maple syrup or sugar to taste 2 teaspoons salt Boil water and salt in a medium-large pot. Reduce to medium heat and whisk in cornmeal slowly, stirring constantly until cornmeal is smooth. Simmer about 7 minutes. Whisk in the sweet potato. Add sweetener to taste. Serve with rose sauce and berries. If you''d like to learn more ways to incorporate rose into your diet, you can search for how to make some of these popular food and medicinal preparations: Tea Syrup Jelly Seed Oil Anishinaabemodaa* Let''s Speak Ojibwe: Oginiig -rosehips Oginii-waabigwan - a rose Oginii-waabigwaniin - roses Oginiiwaatig - a rose bush *Language from The Ojibwe People''s Dictionary Mashkiigobagwaaboo, Swamp Tea* * This tea can stimulate menstruation, and so should not be taken by pregnant women.
We all have our happy places that bring us wonder or mystery; places that make us feel humble, safe, loved. One of my favorite said places is also the most sensory-awakening environments I have ever had the pleasure of being immersed in--the unassuming floating sphagnum moss bogs of cool, northern climates. There is a plant that can be found living on these floating bogs, that in our language we call mashkiigobag (mush-kee-go-bug). As English-speaking Anishinaabeg (people), we also say ''swamp tea'' for both the plant and the tea. The scientific name for mashkiigobag is Rhododendron groenlandicum aka Ledum groenlandicum. It is more commonly known as Bog Labrador Tea. This plant also has names in other tribal languages as well as what those tribes refer to the plant in English. This ecosystem was largely avoided when possible by colonizers in North America.
"Why would anyone want to go there?" is a question that resounds today. Let me illustrate. I was happily, quietly, carefully squishing along one summer day atop such a floating bog in rural north central Minnesota, gazing into pitcher plants, admiring orchids, and stopping to smell the swamp tea. After an hour or so of solitude, a nice shiny vehicle pulled up alongside the bog and parked on the side of the dirt road. A woman got out and was squinting and began to shout, "What are you doing out there!" It came across as less of a question about what I was doing and more of a question about my character. "Looking at flowers!" I replied, still crouched low. She stood there, hands on hips, obviously disturbed, before shaking her head and flailing her arms as she stomped back into her vehicle and drove away. I should mention that you must be careful if you venture out onto a floating bog.
Maybe she was concerned for me, but that''s not what it felt like. I know that mooz (moose) walk on these floating plant masses, and seem to do okay. To be on the safe side, go with a friend--if for any reason, to have someone to share the delight of squishing around on ground that dips and moves like a waterbed--but much more enjoyable. When I feel around into my memory, this plant is there alongside my great grandmother, my father and his siblings, and my siblings, and I look forward to one day introducing my children to this highly revered relative. I always think of and speak to this family member with love, appreciation, and reverence. That it is a plant makes no difference. Mashkiigobagwaaboo (swamp tea the drink) contains vitamin C. It is mildly expectorant and wards off infection, helping to relieve respiratory ailments.
This tea is also a diuretic (increases urine flow). It''s a delight to find this plant in the winter, as it sits oftentimes tucked halfway under the snow, looking like a miniature pine tree with its drooping twigs. The leaves are covered in soft, orange hairs have a very pleasant floral aroma that is further released when simmered in water. I am oftentimes appalled by other authors'' descriptions for this plant and the tea it makes. I''ve heard it called a weed by one, its le.