|
In 1625, Francis Bacon wrote of travel: Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience. He that travelleth into a country before he hath some
entrance into the language, goeth to school, and not too travel.
Thirty-five years ago, when Jan and I, as a newly married couple, set out for our new life in Bangkok we really hadn’t a clue what to expect.
Of course we had scoured the travel books, watched The King and I more than half a dozen times, and I had even attended Thai lessons, but nothing could have truly prepared us for the reality. Still, that was a long time ago.
Over the past few months, Jacqui Le Sueur, who is now based in Singapore, has assiduously been keeping me in touch with her travels around the Pacific Rim. The other day she took a trip to Bangkok, or
Krungthepmahanakorn, The City of the Angels, her old home and the only city in which she has ever lived until now. Has it changed?
Apparently not. In spite of the sky train, which was merely a far-off dream in my day, the traffic is still manic and pollution is worse than ever. Jacqui sums it all up rather well....
The fact that its modern surface only just covers a wonderful Far Eastern reality has not changed an iota.
Glittering temples side by side with towering glass monoliths. Each a shrine, but to diametrically opposed beliefs. Gentle people. Smiling faces. The land of the wai.
Upon reflection, I think that it is precisely this stark contrast which made me so uneasy all those years ago.
Jan, like Jacqui, was able to embrace the Far Eastern reality far more readily than I. She learnt the language from the natives, lunched at street vendors’ stalls, travelled by motorbike taxi and shopped in local markets whereas I, ensconced in my ivory tower, made little effort to expand my London-learned vocabulary, dined daily at the Hilton, motored in air-conditioned comfort, and never went near the market.
To all intents and purposes I was a younger sort and, therefore, should have welcomed the opportunity of education with enthusiasm, but my task then was to lay the modern surface.
For me it was purely part of experience and, sadly, I never did look for the beauty that lies behind Bangkok’s sometimes ugly face.
Piazzesi’s Pallida. I am genuinely surprised by how often we are asked for Orris. Is it simply because it has a reputation for being VERY expensive?
Even more than forty years ago, Steffen Arctander commented that Orris Absolute was on a steady retreat from the perfumer’s shelf. This, he opined, was due not only to the high price (then about three times the
cost of jasmin absolute, or 50% higher than Bulgarian rose otto), but also because of the appearance of a number of fine synthetic chemicals which either reproduce the principal notes in orris absolute, or are actually present
in the natural material and have been duplicated in organic synthesis.
There are several species within the genus Iris, the rhizomes of which, on drying and ageing, develop an essential oil that can be isolated by various methods. By far the most important of these species is Iris pallida Lam.
Commercially known as “Florentine Orris”, because it was cultivated originally near Florence, to which it had been introduced by Adriano Piazzesi in 1842, the plants are cultivated now on small plots of a few hundred
square metres, which are estimated to cover about 60 hectares, in the district of Arezzo. These are divided among 150 growing operations.
The rhizomes are harvested three years after planting and are then peeled by hand and left to dry for two to three years to produce “white orris”. There are also unpeeled Italian orris rhizomes, called
“black orris”, which produce a ‘butter’ of lesser quality.
Today, this resource is in decline. Those growers who are still in operation tend to be older farmers for whom orris is a minor supplemental income, and few of them produce white orris because the process is so
labour-intensive: the planting and harvesting cannot be mechanized because the fields are so small.
Over the past four years, the price of white orris has risen by 40%, while the availabilty of the rhizomes has dropped sharply.
Only 25 tonnes were produced in 2004, the equivalent of 50 kilos of butter. Younger farmers are not interested in orris, and the production of the Italian variety will undoubtedly continue to fall in the foreseeable future.
However, given the decline of the Italian industry and the volatility of prices, a long-term project to develop the growing of Iris pallida has been started in the Landes region of France. The plantings have been
developed in collaboration with a local cooperative in order to select the best qualities of orris and lay out fields that can be planted and harvested mechanically. The crops in France can be developed rapidly and the
mechanization of the supply chain will stabilize the price of the rhizomes.
It’s all in the butter! Occasionally, I am phoned by those who have found a “cheap” source of orris on their travels in Morocco.
Iris germanica L., which is a different species to I. pallida, is grown in the Marrakech region on terraced land bordering cereal fields.
The rhizomes are also harvested manually, peeled and dried. This resource is now more productive than Italy, producing between 50 and 100 tonnes, but the butter of Moroccan orris cannot substitute for Italian orris butter because its characteristics are different, especially as concerns the isomeric ratios of the irones.
Orris root oil is obtained by steam distillation of the rhizomes, which are virtually odourless when they are harvested.
It is only after long-term storage that the rhizomes develop their characteristic violet odour, due to the irones which arise from the oxidative degradation of bicyclic triterpenes. The steam distillate is a light to brown-yellow solid mass, which turns to a yellowish liquid at 38-50 C. It has an acid content of 71-95% (calculated as myristic acid) and a ketone content (calculated as irone) of 9-20%.
Because of its high content of myristic and other fatty acids, the steam distillate resembles a concrete and is often sold under this name, or Orris Butter. In addition, a neutral product
, obtained after removal of the acids with alkali, is marketed as Orris oil absolute or Orris oil 10-fold.
The main constituents of the oil are cis and trans-alpha and cis-gamma irones, which are responsible for its odour.
The isomeric distribution of the irones in two orris butters of different origin can be very dissimilar, because the origins are often linked to different species of the plant. A butter derived exclusively from I. pallida
is characterized by 60% cis-gamma, 35% cis-alpha and 5% trans-alpha irone. In comparison, a butter made from I. germanica is characterized by
40% cis-gamma, 59% cis-alpha and 1% trans-alpha irone. Another isomeric distribution can indicate that the butter is a blend of several origins or that it comes from a different species.
Nonetheless the price of Moroccan orris, which is from one-third to one-fourth that of peeled Italian orris, is rising due to increasing demand because of the lack of Italian product.
Pondering narcissus. Recently there was a finely crafted article by Rhiannon Harris, in Perfumer & Flavorist, about Narcissus poeticus L.
Bringing together botany, history, folklore and medicinal uses of this pheasant-eyed plant, she described current transformation processes for the production of narcissus concrete and absolute, chemical composition as well as fragrance uses but I could find no mention of its application in aromatherapy.
I wonder what the Narcissus you have on offer this month is like, enquired Wendy Lennard. Having perused the Web I found some sites selling it but stating that it should not be used in aromatherapy.
There seems very little safety or technical data about it. What do you think?
All members of the Amaryllidaceae family are moderately toxic, particularly the bulb, which contains significant quantities of phenanthridine alkaloids such as lycorine and galanthamine.
Ingestion of the bulb can cause severe digestive disturbances, with effects such as trembling and convulsions. Contact with all parts of the plant can cause skin irritation. The leaves and bulbs are also toxic to grazing animals.
With regard to Narcissus absolute, D.L.J. Opdyke [Monographs on fragrance raw materials], in 1978, reported slight irritation in mice and swine under 24h occlusion, but in humans at 2% concentration in petrolatum, it was found to be non-irritant and non-sensitizing in a 48h closed patch test. However, more recently, Narcissus absolute
has been identified as a potential primary sensitizer, and comprises part of the ‘New Fragrance Mix’ (for allergy testing) along with aromatic products such as lemongrass oil, jasmin absolute, ylang ylang essential oil and
sandalwood essential oil.
Additionally, the aroma of both the flower and the absolute can cause nausea and vomiting in some persons. This is similar to reactions seen with ylang ylang and jasmin blooms and extracts and may be due to similarities in
their chemical composition.
Nevertheless, I would guess that the “possible” use of Narcissus in aromatherapy dates back to an article by Wanda Sellar [author of The Directory of Essential Oils], published in AQ
(the now defunct Aromatherapy Quarterly, which was essential reading for many) in 1992, in which she gave a therapeutic/mythological survey of this fascinating flower.
Wanda suggested that the mesmerizing quality of Narcissus seems to afford it a place within the spiritual and carnal worlds.
The Arabians saw it as an aphrodisiac and she considered it may well have influence on sexual problems. By slowing down the nervous system, it may impede premature ejaculation and ease the tension and irritability associated with PMT and the menopause.
The Greeks, however, saw it as a portent of death and planted it near their graveyards. In Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, it is credited with healing/harmonious qualities. Paul Beyerl in the Master Book of Magical Herbs
talks about it being an anaphrodisiac, thus quelling desire and allowing the mind to turn to more spiritual thoughts. It also has the magic of parthenogenesis: this creative aspect links into its inspirational quality, perhaps eroding ‘writer’s block’ or any other artistic block.
Based on the fact that Byron and Coleridge became inspired on opium, Wanda hypothesized that the less addictive Narcissus might benefit us all because, if Narcissus has this ‘melting’ quality, then it can surely
unblock other doors, free the mind and soul of impediment. This can appertain to any blocks in life, creative, sexual or mental.
Could the flower, therefore, symbolize the opening of a door towards discovery of our essential self, effectively melting the surrounding layers of complexes?
Be this the case, Narcissus may be a good choice of oil when someone feels unable to take the next step in some venture, or for someone who is obsessed with problems rooted in the past, or who needs to get away from the
hurly-burly of life. Its rather hypnotic quality may be a good choice for helping people to come off drugs by acting as a bridge in those moments of panic and hopelessness. It should not be used on people who
are obviously very confused, since its reputation for being hallucinogenic may not be unfounded.
It has some reputation also in soothing ‘hysterical afflictions’ and epilepsy, which obviously links into its calming effect on the nervous system.
Credited with antispasmodic qualities, it could perhaps ease muscle pain and even coughs. The Arabians thought it a good tonic for the scalp and that it would encourage hair growth. Certainly, at one stage, “Ointment Narcissum” had
been a popular remedy according to Pliny.
Still, if you have the chance, why not ask Wanda Sellar herself, who will be speaking at the forthcoming IFA 20th Anniversary Conference in June. She is not only an aromatherapist, but also an astrologer
specializing in medical astrology, looking at the relationship between the planets, our astrological makeup and our physical and psychological health. Therefore, I wonder what she would make of this.....A woman’s month
of birth determines more than just her star sign, it also influences the age when menopause begins.
Start of menopause may be linked to birth date. Italian researchers have made the surprising claim that the age at which a woman reaches menopause depends in part on the month she was born.
Scientists studying 2,822 post-menopausal women, at four university hospitals in Italy, came to the conclusion that on average menopause occurred earliest for women born in March and latest for those born in October. There was a
full 18 months difference, with the October-born reaching menopause at 50 years and three months, on average, and the March-born achieving menopause at 48 years and nine months.
In the European journal Human Reproduction, lead author Angelo Cagnacci said the findings had a broader implication: they confirm that the timing of a birth can influence events throughout the person’s life.
Mothers should be aware of this, considering that during pregnancy they are going to influence, not only the health of the newborn, but also the health and reproductive life of their child during adulthood.
The researchers speculate that shifts in temperature and light may influence foetal growth. However, the effects of the months on the age of menopause could be different in other parts of the world because of seasonal changes.
Our present data seem to indicate that women born in autumn develop better during their prenatal life and are born with a higher number of eggs than women born in spring.
An alternative explanation may be that mortality is highest among children born in autumn, thus selecting the fittest for survival, although other studies do not support this hypothesis.
Dr. Cagnacci and his team are now looking at whether a woman’s birth month has an impact on her psychological profile and moods.
There is a clear seasonal modulation, said Dr. Cagnacci.
An interesting theory! I was interested in the item about our Scottish midgies [Newsletter 158], because I have developed a theory of my own with probably as much likelihood of being true as any other theory
so far, e-mailed Elly Hood.
Elly wonders if the attraction of certain individuals, rather than others, to midges has anything to do with blood groups. Elly and her youngest child are blood group ‘O’, and react severely to bites from any insect -
midges can smell them a mile off! Her older two children and their father are blood group ‘A’.
Although they do get bitten, they don’t seem to suffer the same severe reaction as Elly and her youngest. She started testing this theory on her friends and 85% reported similar findings. Although not exactly scientific, these are not bad odds!
Therefore, Elly suggests.....For just a bit of fun, I wonder if your readers would like to test this theory for themselves and report back after the summer.
A fine idea! Volunteers please!
Food for thought! Any chance of including projects in your Newsletter, like using the oils, lavender biscuits, or what one can do with green clay or Dead Sea salts, enquired Anne Taggart. Good
heavens! This is surely a task for others - SUGGESTIONS PLEASE! - but to start the ball rolling.....
Most fortunately, I was contacted recently by Robert Kourik, the author of The Lavender Garden.....
Jeff Dawson, a gardener and writer from Sebastapol, California, passed on this recipe from chef Tess McDonough of Kendall Jackson Winery. It should appeal to you guys, because shortbread came originally from the British
Isles.
Combining the simple flavours of butter, sugar, and flour, the cookies are just barely sweet, but quite addictive. The shortbread pairs the classic flavours of lemon, lavender, and butter to make a fancy cookie that will class up a simple dessert of fruit. That’s telling me! Where do I start?
Preheat the oven to 160 C, and grab a large bowl. In the bowl, beat a cup of unsalted butter, make sure it’s at room temperature, a cup of sugar and 2 teaspoons of grated lemon
zest. Do not overbeat it. Sift three cups of flour and two teaspoons of lavender calyxes, dried and removed from the stem, into another bowl, rubbing the buds through a sieve with your hand.
Slowly add the lavender flour and ¼ teaspoon of salt to the butter and sugar, mixing until just incorporated. Be careful not to overbeat it.
Press the resulting dough firmly into a 10-inch springform pan or pie tin.
Pierce the dough in a few places with a fork to prevent it from bubbling and to allow the excess steam to get out. Score the dough to make cutting the wedges easier after baking.
Bake until golden brown around the edges, 25 to 35 minutes. Let it cool for 2 minutes, and then cut it into 12 wedges. When the pieces are completely cool, you can remove them from the pan. Thanks Robert!
Oh my gourd! When I was searching for uses for Dead Sea salts, I stumbled across Jeanne Rose’s Super Cleansing Bath [Herbal Body Book].
I’m sure that Dead Sea salts would fit admirably into the mix somewhere!
Start a hot bath and add 450g of Epsom salts and 450g of Bay salt - many may not wish to be quite so generous!
Sit in the bath up to your neck for 45 minutes, no more and no less. This, according to Jeanne, is the time needed to fully open up your pores and bring the impurities to the surface. Take a muslin bag filled with salt and rub your body, one leg at a time from the toes to the groin and from the head down to the groin. Do this quickly in circular motions. Now rinse your body in the bath to get rid of waste and toxins that you have brought to the surface. Either take a cleansing hot shower or get out of the tub and towel dry with several small hand towels.
Jeanne recommends this bath every couple of months or so, especially when you have been under stress for some time and need a break.
If this is not quite your bath, why not try one of our freshly imported Loofahs from Egypt? The fibrous skeletons of Luffa aegyptiaca Mill., the sponge gourd, they can be used as a stimulating, cleansing,
scale-removing washcloth for the body. Excellent for underactive tissues, and very natural!
Behind the mask. Face masks are used to cleanse the skin, absorb excess oil, remove dead skin cells, soften skin, stimulate the circulation in the skin and stimulate healthy cell regeneration, nourish, moisturise
, hydrate and soothe skin and improve skin colour and tone. However all depends on the ingredients used to make your mask. It seems that there are two basic types of mask - setting, absorbing masks and
non-setting, adsorbing masks, but do any use Green Clay?
According to the excellent Do It Yourself Pure Plant Skin Care by Carolyn Stubbin, clay masks are absorbent, cleansing and healing. Clays are available in different colours depending on their mineral content and, as a consequence, have various healing properties on the skin. The use
of clay in preparations to heal the skin is known as pelotherapy. Clays can be used in masks, poultices, absorbent powders, scalp treatments, and to colour soaps, bath salts and other skin care preparations.
Green clay is the most absorbent of the clays. It is used in preparations such as face masks to help with tissue repair, to draw out toxins and calm inflammation. It has a reputation for the treatment of acne.
Mixing it! When making a clay mask, use glass, porcelain or stainless steel utensils.
To make a clay mask, mix two teaspoons of water with a heaped teaspoon of clay. Floral waters, fruit and vegetable juices, herbal infusions and aloe vera juice may be used in place of water. Mix it into a smooth
paste and apply a thin layer to a clean damp face. Leave on for approximately 15 minutes.
If your skin is dry or sensitive do not allow the mask to dry-out on your skin. Spray or sponge the mask with water whenever you feel it beginning to dry. A small amount of vegetable oil may be added to the mask to
prevent it from drying out.
For a cleansing and healing mask for oily, combination and clogged skins, take 30g green clay and drip 50ml orange blossom hydrosol into it, making it into a smooth paste.
Then add 5ml vegetable glycerine, 10 drops citrus seed extract and 1 drop of juniper and 3 drops of lemon essential oils, ensuring the essential oils are mixed thoroughly into the mask. Apply!
Finally..... This mask is killing me, and I’ve burnt the shortbread!
|