Himalayan Balsam
Sula and I are out wandering the lemon-scented woods and I’m foraging again. But this time I don’t have to look far, and I don’t have to follow the usual rules about leaving plenty behind. Because this time it’s everywhere, and it shouldn’t be: the beautiful, invasive Himalayan Balsam.
It carpets damp woodland floors and proliferates along the edges of streams and rivers where it steadily erodes the banks. Sometimes you’ll find that someone has uprooted some and discarded them along the paths - it’s shallow rooted and easy and somehow satisfying to pull up. But it can feel like a losing battle. Here’s a detailed explanation of why the plant poses such a problem and the difficulties of eradicating it:
https://gov.wales/himalayan-balsam-public-information-controlling-invasive-species
However, it’s edible, and today I’m picking the flowers. I need to be careful - contact with the plant shows just how it’s managed to spread so successfully, as the seeds spit up to 7 metres. Himalayan balsam is listed as a species of special concern: this means it’s an offence to plant or cause these plants to grow in the wild, or intentionally release them into the environment. So, before I touch them I place a bag over to catch the seeds, before cutting lower down the stem, below any flower heads. The seeds too are edible and lovely in curry: https://www.eatweeds.co.uk/himalayan-balsam-seed-curry-recipe
The flowers can be used to make jams or in baking but I’m going for something a little less wholesome: Himalayan Balsam Gin. There are lots of recipes online but I’m using this one: https://craftinvaders.co.uk/how-to-make-a-magical-himalayan-balsam-gin
When I’ve finished making the first batch, my hands stained from the flowers’ pink sap, I put it in a dark place to work its magic for twenty-four hours before drinking. Don’t throw any waste onto your compost heap or into your food waste bin: mine goes into the bonfire bin.
I’m a little ambivalent about this plant. I hate that this beautiful, destructive plant is spreading through the countryside, choking out other plants.
But it does make lovely gin.