Splendid Saffron, Golden Rain

by forumholitorium

The moment that saffron meets a liquid is magical to behold, an explosion of radiant color. While it may be the most expensive spice in the world, the package I bought with enough organic saffron for two batches of baked goods still cost less than a takeout pizza in Vienna. It was even grown in Europe (Greece). The crushed stigmas of Crocus sativus, a member of the iris family, have been used as a dye for thousands of years. Though I would like to dye fabric with saffron at some point, the threads in this package were intended for baking Cornish saffron buns. I tried out the recipe in Regula Ysewijn’s Oats from the North, Wheat from the South, which includes my spice of the season: caraway seed. This does not appear to be an intrinsic ingredient of Cornish saffron buns; the Taste Atlas just lists saffron, citrus zest, and currants or sultanas. I find the caraway adds an interesting twist. A friend sampled one and later told me her first reaction was that it was unusual, but then she couldn’t stop eating it because it was (in her words) wunderbar. 

Wunderbar is how I feel when I look at the start of a new knitting project. I am knitting this skirt in a cotton and linen blend. This is the first time I am making a skirt in a plant-based fiber. I would have liked to simply buy a blue linen skirt for the summer, but it is impossible to find anything suitable. Most skirts I see for sale these days are below the knee and partly to entirely synthetic. It is nearly impossible to find a skirt that ends just above the knees, let alone one of 100% natural fibers. Then there is the issue of color. The gist is I have to make my own. Wishful thinking has not improved my nonexistent sewing skills, so knitting a skirt appears to be the best option. The waistband is finished and I have a good feeling, especially because there are no sleeves involved. The color in the picture appears to be electric blue but it is actually a more staid middle blue to navy. Mixes of cotton and linen often have an interesting overall color since there are subtle differences in how each type of fiber takes the same dye.

Taking a break on the BC Lino linen top was helpful. I returned to it with a new strategy: leave the v-neck as is since it does not roll and make two neat armhole borders. It worked. The top is blocked and ready to be worn. The BC Lino was rather fuzzy, which makes me think the fibers are quite short and the yarn not as tightly spun as the Quince Sparrow used for my previous linen top. Blocking mostly smoothed things out. I will see how it wears. Making two purely linen sleeveless tops using the same needle sizes has helped me learn how many stitches I need at a specific gauge to make a garment that fits me as I would like it to fit. In the future, it will be easier to customize patterns – or maybe even make up my own.

The color of the flowers on one of the bushes outside resembles saffron yellow more than the blues of my knitting projects. Laburnum anagyroides, or common laburnum, has the poetic name of Goldregen, golden rain, in German. Yet this beautifully blooming shrub is toxic: The bean-like seeds from just three to four of its pods contain enough alkaloids to fatally poison a child. This has not diminished its popularity as an ornamental in southern Europe, where it originated, as well as in Europe north of the Alps and the United States. I missed out on admiring it last year since I wasn’t in Vienna when it flowered. As spring progresses, each day brings changes in the vegetation and new marvels. I have started making a list of the order in which the plants outside flower after their winter dormancy concludes: snowdrops, Primeln, forsythia, magnolia, dandelions, daisies, lilac – and now common laburnum. Each further plant I identify deepens my understanding of this small patch of earth. A bush a few meters over from the laburnum is now laden with white flowers. Time to figure out what it is.

May you deepen your understanding of what is growing around you!