Gorse Flower Kombucha - Finding Solace in Nature

Once seen, you can't unsee these beautiful golden flowers, blooming amidst a dark February in the northern hemisphere.

I have taken to foraging more and more recently. It's allowed me to remain creative in the kitchen while giving me access to ingredients that cannot be bought, no matter how desperately I may at times search. I have also found such peace and solace in nature whilst going out foraging. It forces one to notice what is going on around you, what exists around you. It's important to understand the environment in which you live, to see the power and beauty of the natural world. In a world that is feeling more and more dissociative and placeless, to go out into the wild and find nature's produce is simply enriching.

I have also, over the past few years, jumped aboard the fermentation train. The gut health and all that. I've been jumping into science-based books that would shock the chemistry teacher from whose class I quit just before our final school leaving exams. Not your average, run-of-the-mill English Literature student, no sir. Again, I love the creativity that comes with fermented foods in the kitchen. The possibilities are endless and they augment any dish instantly. I haven't quite jumped into the kimchi and sauerkraut vat yet, but I've become enamoured with kombucha: making it, consuming it, exploring the science behind it. 

The base costs of kombucha have proven, unfortunately, to be rather expensive. If I want to buy dried elderflower, dried raspberry leaves, or beetroot juice, those costs on top of the sugar required for fermentation make the process of making a 5ltr batch rather expensive. This is where my recently-found love of foraging and my passion for fermentation and gut health collide, like asteroids far away in other solar systems.

I have foraged hawthorn berries, nettles and dandelions before for the purposes of kombucha. All have proven enjoyable, but have lacked the 'wow factor' my more renowned batches have gotten, batches made with elderflowers and roses and used coffee grounds. However, I knew that there were greater gems to be discovered the more I looked. So, when I was walking recently in my local park and noticed a golden hue far off in the thicket, I had to investigate.

Irish winters are harsh, lightless, unforgiving beasts. There is not a lot of positivity or growth out there to give one hope for the coming year. But on the feast day of St. Brigid, as if some sign from the Otherworld, I saw a bounty of yellow flowers bloom at almost breakneck speed in a park near my house. Upon further investigation, they proved to be gorse flowers. Lovely golden, aestival-appearing flowers, bringing radiance and light upon a world shrouded in mist, dew and darkness. Picking one or two and smelling them instantly lifted me, that borderline saccharine smell of honey mixed with hope; hope for the new year, for new beginnings, for new chances and opportunities in my life.

I had only encountered gorse flowers twice in my life as a food item. Once, sold dried at a food festival in northern Italy I ended up at in a previous job. I didn't buy them, I barely knew what gorse was back then. I was too busy gorging on goat's milk beers and the finest soft ewe's milk cheeses the pastures of Italy could offer me. The other time I encountered such wondrous flowers was as a honeycomb-esque crisp in a dessert in the restaurant Dede's in Baltimore, Co. Cork, a two-star Michelin restaurant in the village where I always spent my childhood summers. These are two very different encounters, at varying ends of the gastronomic spectrum, but both bound by a love of food.

Gorse crisp with lemon verbena ice cream, hazelnut crumb, gorse caramel with flowers I can't quite identify. It was absolutely magnificent.

I picked a great quantity of the gorse flowers that I found on one or two bushes in the park that day and set about making a syrup with them. I've rarely had luck drying herbs and flowers in my oven, my whole batch of lemon balm from the garden suffering terribly from my inabilities last year. I've found making a syrup is as effective and saves time on the eventual kombucha making. I had roughly 60g of flowers so I put them in my Kilner jar and then made my syrup on the hob, dissolving 550g sugar in the same amount of filtered water. I let that sit for a week until its flaxen, rich hue was slightly blinding in the sunlight. I then set about making my kombucha.

This is the start of my 6-day fermentation. It takes slightly longer to ferment in winter, naturally.

My standard recipe is for a 2ltr batch that I then adapt for larger quantities. I experiment first with 2ltr batches if I'm unsure something will work out, such as a failed attempt at using dried chillies for a funky batch. I'll give the 2ltr recipe here as that's more manageable. As the gorse flower recipe is slightly different, I'll provide my normal recipe and then highlight where it is I deviated for that exact batch. I'll use regular black tea leaves for the sake of ease. I'll assume that, if you've read this far, you have a SCOBY or have access to one and make or consume kombucha on a regular basis.

Dissolve 220g sugar, preferably organic, in equal parts filtered water. Sterilise your fermentation vessel with boiling water. Add 1.78ltr filtered water to the vessel and keep an eye on its temperature. Nothing else can be added until it has cooled down somewhat. Once the sugar has dissolved, add 20g tea leaves and let the tea brew for 5-10mins. Strain the tea into your fermentation vessel. Once it is cooled down once more, add 200ml kombucha, either from a previous batch or an unpasteurised one from your local 'booch merchants. Finally, add in your SCOBY, cover with muslin and let it sit for 5-7 days depending on the warmth of your kitchen. The warmer it is, the more quickly it will ferment and turn to kombucha. If left too long, it'll become acidic and vinegary. Not to my taste, but whatever floats your boat.

I made my gorse kombucha by straining and very lightly heating the syrup and adding that to the filtered water, then topping it up with kombucha and filtered water accordingly before adding the SCOBY and letting it bubble away. I found the batch worked very well and tasted superbly, a nice complexity and depth of flavour while still being clean and crisp. It had this beautiful vernal taste to it that I had heretofore not appreciated properly. A surprising strong eucalyptus flavour came through as well which was fantastically refreshing. It's certainly a flavour and recipe to which I will presently return!