#nettle butter

[quo-usque-tandem]

Mussels with vermouth, green olives, and nettle butter

[morethansalad]

Chilled Stinging Nettle Soup (Vegan)

[whythobro]

Modern English folkelore is fucking wild cause what do you mean the random howling at night is some drunk dickhead but if I touch the pretty yellow flower I’ll piss myself tonight in bed??

[askwhatsforlunch]

Nettle and Green Onion Rarebit (Vegetarian)

After a few hours spent gardening, sowing, planting, weeding and tilling, how satisfying to return in the kitchen with freshly dug go, and freshly snipped (very carefully, with gloves!) nettle. These Nettle and Green Onion Rarebit, inspired from a recipe in this month's Simple Things, make the harvest all the more delicious! Happy Thursday!

Ingredients (makes 4 slices):

a large Green Onion

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 tablespoons plain flour

1 cup semi-skimmed milk

a pinch of fleur de sel or sea salt flakes and freshly cracked black pepper

nutmeg

Mature English Cheddar

4 small slices White Bloomer Bread

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 cup freshly picked nettles (wearing gloves), leaves removed from the stalks and thoroughly washed under cold water (wearing rubber gloves!)

Preheat oven to 250°C/480°F.

Finely chop Green Onion.

Melt butter in a medium saucepan over a medium flame. Once butter is just foaming, add chopped Green Onion, and cook, a couple of minutes.

Sprinkle in the flour. Give a good stir, and cook out, 1 minute.

Remove from the heat, and gradually stir in the milk, to prevent lumps, so the mixture is smooth and loose. Return over medium heat, and cook, stirring constantly until the sauce thickens. Once the béchamel thickens, season with fleur de sel and black pepper. Grate in about 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg. Then, grate in 1/3 cup Mature English Cheddar. Give a good stir until melted. Remove from the heat.

Place White Bloomer Bread slices onto a pizza pan, and place in the middle of the hot oven. Toast, at 250°C/480°F, 4 minutes.

Melt butter in a small frying pan over medium-high heat. Once the butter is just foaming, add the nettle leaves, and sauté, a couple of minutes until wilted. Transfer to a chopping board, and chop finely. Stir nettle leaves into the cheesy béchamel.

Flip White Bloomer Bread slices on their other side, and spoon cheesy nettle and green onion béchamel onto each slice. Grate a little more Cheddar on top and return to the hot oven. Bake, at 250°C/480°F, 3 to 4 minutes, until bubbly.

Sprinkle Nettle and Green Onion Rarebit with chopped green part of the Green Onion, and serve immediately, with a glass of chilled white wine, like Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc.

[softichill]

I have so many cookie oc ideas and none of the motivation to draw them

[choclette8]

Creamy Butter Beans With Mushrooms And Spring Greens

A dish of creamy butter beans with mushrooms, leeks and greens. It's a luxurious spring comfort food recipe and ever so easy to make.

Step into spring and whip up this dish of creamy butter beans with mushrooms and leeks. It’s luxurious spring comfort food and is ever so easy to make. The recipe is quick too, making it an ideal midweek dinner. Use wild greens, if you can find them, but spinach or collard greens if not. Whilst wild garlic is still worth picking, nettles have really come into their own now. We’ve been eating…

[homunculus-argument]

I love nettle soup. I love that I can straight-up make a meal out of just milk, butter, salt, pepper, a few spoonfuls of flour and a bunch of leafs from the fucking outside.

[juniorfor2]

Looking back over at the portrayal of Rhaenyra and Nettles and their relationship to Daemon, it is absolutely hilarious how biased Glydayn is.

Daemon with Rhaenyra: “Daemon spent long hours in her company, enthralling her with tales of his journeys and battles. He gave her pearls and silks and books and a jade tiara said once to have belonged to the Empress of Leng, read poems to her, dined with her, hawked with her, sailed with her… He praised her beauty, declaring her to be the fairest maid in all the Seven Kingdoms. Uncle and niece began to fly together almost daily.

Glydayn: sooo, we aren’t entirely sure of the facts here, and even though Daemon was clearly courting her and gave her some of the most expensive jewelry ever and said that they slept together, no one can really tell what happened. Maybe they did have sex together, maybe they didn’t, who knows 🤷‍♀️. Can’t even be sure if they loved each other really, for all we know they secretly hated each other.

Daemon with Nettles: The prince and his bastard girl…slept in adjoining bedchambers… The prince “doted upon the brown girl” as a man might his daughter, instructing her in common courtesies and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts of her of “an ivory handled hairbrush, a silvered looking glass, a cloak of rich brown velvet bordered in satin, a pair of riding boots of leather soft as butter.”

Glydayn: it’s really just about confirmed - with all the practical things Daemon gave Nettles, and the comparison of them being similar to father and daughter - that the two were sleeping together. After all, Nettles is black, so she is both an ugly girl with whom no highborn/noble person would sleep with, and a whore who was clearly sleeping with Daemon, a prince, no doubt about it. As for Daemon, well, he was sleeping with young maidens 20-30 years ago, and despite happily marrying two women who were 22 and 23 years old, seeing them through multiple pregnancies and decades, he’s clearly cheating first chance he gets with young maidens!

That kind of projection is wild. How does anyone say that if a man was seriously courting a woman and confessed to sleeping with each other, no one can know what happened; yet if a man gives a woman some practical items and treats her like a daughter, they must be sleeping with each other? Was he high?

[pupsmailbox]

MOTH︰BUTTERFLY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　acantha.　adela.　adley.　aetheria.　aiden.　ainsley.　alis.　allison.　amos.　angle.　ankova.　antler.　apollo.　apple.　arches.　arden.　argent.　ari.　aruna.　ashworth.　aspen.　asteria.　astralyn.　atlas.　barberry.　bay.　bee.　belina.　bellamy.　belle.　blair.　blake.　blossom.　bright.　brighton.　bryn.　butter.　butterfleigh.　butterfly.　cadi.　cai.　calesia.　cali.　canary.　carson.　cayana.　chai.　cherry.　chouko.　cinnabar.　cistus.　clancy.　clifden.　cloud.　clover.　cosmia.　crimson.　daisy.　dakota.　december.　dewick.　dorian.　dot.　dusk.　dust.　eclipse.　eilira.　eilliot.　ellison.　elnora.　emerald.　ermina.　ermine.　esmerelda.　esther.　evelyn.　evern.　falena.　fern.　finley.　fisher.　flora.　fly.　flynn.　forest.　fox.　foxglove.　galatea.　galium.　garnet.　ghost.　ginny.　greta.　grey.　haden.　haven.　hawk.　haworth.　hayden.　heath.　herald.　hesperia.　holli.　hollis.　isabella.　ismeria.　isola.　jael.　jayden.　jersey.　july.　june.　juniper.　juno.　kahli.　kai.　karran.　karson.　kentish.　kimko.　kit.　kori.　lace.　lackey.　langmaid.　lepida.　light.　luca.　lucy.　luna.　lunar.　malam.　maple.　march.　mariposa.　marlow.　marrow.　mars.　may.　micah.　mirza.　mocha.　molie.　monroe.　moth.　mothra.　mothy.　nettle.　november.　oak.　ocaria.　oleander.　opal.　palmyra.　paru.　parvaneh.　peach.　pearl.　pepper.　pine.　pinion.　plume.　poppy.　psyche.　quinn.　reed.　reid.　rekoa.　remi.　riband.　ricki.　robin.　rose.　rosy.　rowan.　ruby.　rufous.　sable.　saffron.　saga.　saige.　scarlet.　scotch.　sibylla.　silver.　skyler.　sula.　swift.　tara.　tate.　tatum.　tawny.　tera.　thora.　tiger.　una.　vanessa.　violet.　virginia.　weaver.　winter.　wren.　yara.　zephyr.　zephyra.　zion.　zoumi.

PRONOUNS ⌇　admir/admiral.　ant/antenna.　anten/antenna.　antler/antler.　apple/apple.　blood/blood.　blue/blue.　bu/butterfly.　bug/bug.　butter/butterfly.　carpet/carpet.　chalk/chalk.　cherry/cherrie.　chrysalis/chrysali.　clear/clearwing.　cloud/cloud.　cocoo/cocoon.　cocoon/cocoon.　dagger/dagger.　dark/dark.　dew/dew.　dot/dot.　dusk/dusk.　dust/dust.　erm/ermine.　eye/eye.　flame/flame.　flap/flap.　flow/flower.　flu/fluttflutter.　fluff/fluff.　fluff/luff.　flutter/flutter.　fly/fly.　forest/forest.　fri/fritillary.　frit/fritillery.　goat/goat.　gold/gold.　hair/hairstreak.　hawk/hawk.　hawk/hawkmoth.　heart/heart.　hide/hide.　hook/hook.　in/insect.　insect/insect.　lace/lace.　lamp/lamp.　leaf/leaf.　lepidoptera/lepidoptera.　light/light.　lu/luna.　luna/luna.　lunar/lunar.　maple/maple.　mo/monarch.　mo/moth.　mocha/mocha.　moon/moon.　mor/morpho.　moth/moth.　nec/nectar.　night/night.　night/night.　nocturnal/nocturnal.　noct/nocturnal.　oak/oak.　plume/plume.　reed/reed.　riph/ripheu.　rose/rose.　sallow/sallow.　shark/shark.　sil/silk.　silk/silk.　small/small.　snout/snout.　squeak/squeak.　squeak/squeaker.　stripe/stripe.　sul/sulphur.　swa/swallow.　swa/tail.　swall/swallowtail.　swift/swift.　tiny/tiny.　tuss/tussock.　wax/waxe.　wing/wing.　☁️ . ⭐️ . 🌕 . 💡 . 🦋 .

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

You don’t believe Nettles was Daemon’s bastard?

🤨 Yes? I mean, no, I don't believe Daemon fucked his daughter. Presuming that's what you're asking, and that you aren't a sexual-relationship-denialist. (I find "anti" doesn't quite work as a properly definitive noun here.) If you are, though, you should reread:

By the dwarf’s account, Daemon Targaryen had come to love the small brown bastard girl, and had taken her into his bed. How much credence can we give the fool’s testimony? [...] Septon Eustace says her teeth were crooked, her nose scarred where it had once been slit for thieving. Hardly a likely paramour for a prince, one would think. Against that we have The Testimony of Mushroom…and in this case, the Chronicles of Maidenpool as set down by Lord Mooton’s maester. Maester Norren writes that “the prince and his bastard girl” supped together every night, broke their fast together every morning, slept in adjoining bedchambers, that the prince “doted upon the brown girl as a man might dote upon his daughter,” instructing her in “common courtesies” and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts to her of “an ivory-handled hairbrush, a silvered looking glass, a cloak of rich brown velvet bordered in satin, a pair of riding boots of leather soft as butter.” The prince taught the girl to wash, Norren says, and the maidservants who fetched their bath water said he oft shared a tub with her, “soaping her back or washing the dragon stink from her hair, both of them as naked as their namedays.” None of this constitutes proof that Daemon Targaryen had carnal knowledge of the bastard girl, but in light of what followed we must surely judge that more likely than most of Mushroom’s tales.

Or to sum up what Gyldayn is saying: "normally Mushroom is not trustworthy. However, here is a maester (someone in my job, someone I trust) with his professional records of the histories of Maidenpool, and he confirms Mushroom's story. I think it's very likely."

Or what GRRM is saying: "I know I set up Mushroom to be the wild sexy gossip you can't believe guy, but this is an actual bit of wild sexy truth here, ok? Sorry the conceit of my history book doesn't let me actually state anything outright."

And in case you were asking the daddy-in-more-ways-than-one question, no, I've stated from the start (2013 with TPATQ, tyvm) that Nettles exists to show that dragonriding does not necessarily require Valyrian blood. Daemon is just paternalistic. Patronizing, in a Henry Higgins meets "Wildest Dreams" kinda way...

[morethansalad]

Vegan Nettle & Dandelion 'Honey' Cake

[thisusernameisridiculous]

The Recipe

Ingredients:

One (1) Medium or Large size Egg

2oz Heavy Cream, or Milk

A small handful of shredded cheese

1oz Olive Oil, butter infused if you can splurge

A dash of salt or msg you do you booboo

Herbs and spice to taste

Tools:

Container (for your raw egg)

Spatula (for stirring your egg)

Fork (multipurpose)

Pan (to hold your egg as it cooks)

Pot Mitt or Square (to hold your pan)

Heat (to cook your egg)

Plate or Bowl (for your cooked egg)

Set your Heat to the lower side of Medium, if you can control its temperature. Drop your olive oil in your pan, and set the pan atop the heat. Allow 3-4 minutes for the pan to absorb the heat and spread evenly, like taking a moment away to reflect on your emotions in the middle of a tense discussion.

Crack your egg by cupping it gently in one hand and sharply tapping the edge of the fork against the middle of the shell. Think about it the same way one might grab a nettle, you should be decisive and firm. One good tap should really do it. Place your thumbs on either side of the crack, and open the egg over your container by pulling at the shell with the same intent that cracked it.

Discard your egg shell upon the earth, preferably within a compost pile. The flora cannot thank you, but will thrive from it nonetheless. Much of what we discard can be helpful to the right recipient. Many people don't spend time looking. Many more don't know what they discard.

Begin to beat the raw egg with the fork. If you wished to save the yolk before this step you probably would have already done so, like people who know how to capture en passant. Emulsify your egg until homogeneous, forming a microcosm of the universe's ever-impending heat death.

Add the cream to the egg. A rotten writer would crack a real stinker here. I happen to be just slightly above and to the left of that.

Stir your herbs and spices into your liquid egg. This could be a little difficult depending on the density of the spice you pick, but just keep stirring, like all those corporations still trying to find the profit within AI. Eventually, you'll get it all evenly spread. Surely.

Having failed that, begin to contemplate where you started to go wrong in life. Was it the talent show in eight grade where you got completely upstaged by a sock puppet? Was it the moment you realized your parents knew you were secretly eating the dog food when they weren't home because they told you to stop?

Slowly pour your liquid egg into your frying pan, making sure to stir your egg about so it doesn't stick. Olive Oil can make that happen super fast so keep on top of it, like you're playing whack-a-mole. Don't forget to fluff your egg.

Cook your egg until semisolid, then add your cheese. The cheese can make it harder to watch the liquid cook out of the egg, so turn the heat up slightly and count to 90 while stirring slowly.

Plate your cooked egg. Cooked Egg should be fluffy, and slightly gooey. Add your pinch of salt here, some people prefer to grill with salt but I find I prefer oil.

End result should look something like this:

[bohemian-nights]

In the end, the brown dragon was brought to heel by the cunning and persistence of a "small brown girl" of six-and-ten, who delivered him a freshly slaughtered sheep every morning, until Sheepstealer learned to accept and expect her. Munkun sets down the name of this unlikely dragonrider as Nettles. Mushroom tells us the girl was a bastard of uncertain birth called Netty, born to a dockside whore. By any name, she was black-haired, brown-eyed, brown-skinned, skinny, foul-mouthed, fearless.. and the first and last rider of the dragon Sheepstealer.

The girl Nettles did not share their celebrations. She had flown with the others, fought as bravely, burned and killed as they had, but her face was black with smoke and streaked with tears when she returned to Dragonstone.

Yet was fear of Vhagar the only reason Prince Daemon kept Nettles close to him? Mushroom would have us believe it was not. By the dwarfs account, Daemon Targaryen had come to love the small brown bastard girl, and had taken her into his bed.

Nor could Netty truly be called pretty. "A skinny brown girl on a skinny brown dragon," writes Munkun in his True Telling (though he never saw her). Septon Eustace says her teeth were crooked, her nose scarred where it had once been slit for thieving. Hardly a likely paramour for a prince, one would think.

Maester Norren writes that "the prince and his bastard girl" supped together every night, broke their fast together every morning, slept in adjoining bedchambers, that the prince "doted upon the brown girl as a man might dote upon his daughter," instructing her in "common courtesies" and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts to her of "an ivory-handled hairbrush, a silvered looking glass, a cloak of rich brown velvet bordered in satin, a pair of riding boots of leather soft as butter." The prince taught the girl to wash, Norren says, and the maidservants who fetched their bath water said he oft shared a tub with her, "soaping her back or washing the dragon stink from her hair, both of them as naked as their namedays."

“As to the girl Nettles, She is a common thing, with the stink of sorcery upon her," the queen declared. "My prince would ne'er lay with such a low creature. You need only look at her to know she has no drop of dragon's blood in her. It was with spells that she bound a dragon to her, and she has done the same with my lord husband." So long as he was in the girl's thrall, Prince Daemon could not be relied upon, Her Grace went on. Therefore, let a command be sent at once to Maidenpool, but only for the eyes of Lord Mooton. "Let him take her at table or abed and strike her head off. Only then shall my prince be freed."

"It may be we shall be destroyed whatever choice we make. The prince is more than fond of this brown child, and his dragon is close at hand. A wise lord would kill them both, lest the prince burn Maidenpool in his wroth."

How the prince and his bastard girl spent their last night beneath Lord Mooton's roof is not recorded, but as dawn broke they appeared together in the yard, and Prince Daemon helped Nettles saddle Sheepstealer one last time. It was her custom to feed him each day before she flew; dragons bend easier to their rider's will when full. That morning she fed him a black ram, the largest in all Maidenpool, slitting the ram's throat herself. Her riding leathers were stained with blood when she mounted her dragon, Maester Norren records, and "her cheeks were stained with tears." No word of farewell was spoken betwixt man and maid, but as Sheepstealer beat his leathery brown wings and climbed into the dawn sky, Caraxes raised his head and gave a scream that shattered every window in Jonquil's Tower. High above the town, Nettles turned her dragon toward the Bay of Crabs, and vanished in the morning mists, never to be seen again at court or castle.

The singers tell us that the old prince survived the fall and afterward made his way back to the girl Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side.

Sixteen men perished in the fight that followed, and threescore more suffered burns before the angry brown wyrm took wing and fled deeper into the mountains with "a ragged woman clinging to its back." That was the last known sighting of Sheepstealer and his rider, Nettles, recorded in the annals of Westeros...though the wildlings of the mountains still tell tales of a "fire witch" who once dwelled in a hidden vale far from any road or village. One of the most savage of the mountain clan came to worship her, the storytellers say; youths would prove their courage by bringing gifts to her, and were only accounted men when they returned with burns to show that they had faced the dragon woman in her lair.

-Fire & Blood 🔥🐉

[greatgreenwelshadventures]

There is an unwritten rule in our family that you don't mess with Mum's cheese scone recipe.

Always was a rebel...

Dandelion and nettle seed 😆

**Edited for recipe as requested**:

8oz (225g) self raising flour (or all purpose with 1tsp baking powder)

1.5oz (43g) butter

1tsp mustard powder

6oz (453g) mature cheddar cheese

1/4 pint (142mls) milk

Rub butter into flour. Add mustard and cheese. Stir in enough milk to make a dough. Roll out to 3/4 inch thick and cut into rounds. Brush tops with a little beaten egg.

Bake at 200c (390f) for 10-15 minutes.

Makes 8 large cheese scones plus an ugly one 😆

This is my late Mum's book which has obviously been adjusted over the years to reach perfection...

For the rebels;

At the flour and butter stage throw in herbs of your choice. In this case I used about 3 heaped tablespoons of nettle seed and the petals of around 12 dandelions.

Can also recommend branston pickle which you can add around 4 tablespoons and use a little less milk.

Best eaten warm or toasted and they freeze well so I made a double batch 🫶

[balkanradfem]

Making a nettle infusion!

You need: dry nettle, a jar, a lid, a butterknife, hot water, and a fridge.

Nettle is once again lush and beautiful so I harvested a bunch (wearing gloves) and left it on the bedsheet for a few days to dry. Nettle already has very low water content so it dries very fast! Once it's crunchy it can no longer sting you, and it's harmless to touch (but don't push your hand in it randomly because stems can still cause some irritation.)

Now, when it's dry, you can grab a bunch, and stuff it inside of a jar, filling about two thirds of it (if your nettle is in smaller pieces then less!).

Once it's in a jar, you pour boiling water over it. Once the water covers all of the nettle, there's going to be a lot of displaced air bubbles inside, so grab a butter knife, and stir it around, the water level will get significantly lower.

The nettle gets so pretty and green inside. After stirring and freeing all the air bubbles, you fill it up to the very top, and you put the lid on. (If you need to grab onto the jar to close it up, use a cloth to touch it! Hot.)

You leave this to cool down, and then leave it in the fridge overnight. The next day, you grab it out of the fridge, strain it into a cup, and that's it!

The color can vary from yellow to black, depending on how much nettle you used, and how long it was left in the fridge. For some people, this will have a taste similar to milk! Sometimes it can feel slightly grassy if it's only been 24 hours since you've made it, but if you leave it half a day longer, it gets to a much sweeter tasting phase.

Now that you know how, why would you make this? Because this is amazing, incredibly helpful herbalist potion-like thing to drink. Firstly, if you're in any way lacking in iron or calcium, this will have your back. I'm using it every day to make sure my calcium levels are good and my bones healthy. It also has immense positive psychological effect on a person, it will regulate your hormones, lower your stress levels, and give you a burst of new energy. First few times I had this, it made me incredibly energetic, and for about a month I was able to get all of my chores done, despite chronic exhaustion. It made me happy and giddy and whatever I was stressed about, now seemed like an easy, do-able task. Forever impressed with this drink! And will never stop making it and drinking it, for as long as nettles are growing.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Your arm is thrown across your husband's chest keeping him back, his hand tight around the grip of his sword.

There's a glass in your hand, half full of drink, spiderweb cracks crawling across its surface as you struggle to stay calm. The figure in front of you smiles, wide and knowing, their last words hanging in the air like a breath in the cold silence of a winter morning.

"Skin shrugger."

You take a sip of your drink, swirling it around in its broken glass; it's some sort of wine probably, but you don't like it. You'd rather be at home with a glass of cold nettle beer, a nice place of hot buttered wurzels and some shitty movie playing in the background while you feel the Warren settle around you.

Instead, you're here, at this wretched party.

You chug the last of your wine and sweep Adrian behind you so he's out of harms way.

"Good, go on, bring your DOG to heel." Says the figure, a Hulder with a hollow back and a massive fox's tail that ends in a wide toothy mouth that grins just like her painfully beautiful face. She's wearing a wedding dress and a veil, as if she's getting married. And she is, in a way, married to the thousands of bees taking up residence in her hollow back.

She's so deeply, terribly pretty, with her soft calves' ears and eyes the same blue as a glacier's entrails. Everyone at this party is so much prettier than you, so much older, so much better and more Knowing. Wild animals shaped like people, with next to none of the social hangups of said people. You feel ugly next to them, ugly and useless and small, a terrible cobbled together thing that Should Not Be.

Some stupid confused Thing that does not and NEVER WILL belong among them.

You hold out the empty glass and watch a Goblin in servant's garb take it before replacing it with a full unbroken glass of nettle beer. The Goblin looks at you with wide wet eyes, his ears and nose like yours. Depending on who you ask, Pookas are a breed a Goblin after all, it's one reason why everyone hates you.

You give the Goblin a slight nod and watch him scamper away to tend to the other guests.

You chug your nettle beer, you bring the now empty glass up with startling speed and smash it against the side of the Hulder's head at full strength. Her lower jaw detaches part way from the force of the blow and is left swinging by a piece of gristle, tongue dangling. She gurgles weakly, the bees in her back buzz unhappily as she eventually topples to the ground spilling honey, wax, and brood.

"Anybody else wanna play with me tonight?" You say to nobody in particular, pulling a chunk of comb off ground and popping it into your mouth. Some of the party members bristle, hands hovering by their weapons, others recoil and half fade into the shadows. You want them to try you, you want a reason to hurt someone else, and yourself in the process.

But nobody does, and after a few tense moments, the music starts back up and everyone gets on with their night like nothing happened.

The Hulder is carted away by her attendants, so she can heal herself in peace. You lick honey-gore off your fingers, plucking out shards of glass with your teeth.

"Didn't think so."