Wheatgrass, oh what a lovely discovery. I remember years and years ago, whilst visiting my Cousin, back in our old life and her Mother, my Auntie, they were up to something very interesting. Many members of my Mother’s family had many years ago make a life change to the Kabalarian philosophy. This family was amongst that. Not that this has anything to do with anything, but kind of does. They are basically of a vegetarian manner, I guess that should be more closer termed, lacto-vegetarian, as they eat eggs and consume dairy products. I think they may also partake in fish too, but not sure of that. So, the family was always doing interesting stuff with vegetables.
I recall one beautiful summer morning, I went for a coffee visit. My Cousin lives in a beautiful, rambling rancher on hundreds of acres of blueberry fields. Her Mamma lived on the property too. A lovely visit would ensue with both Mother and Daughter. Time has passed, my Auntie has left this world for another place, where there is no illness nor pain.
Yes, that beautiful summer morning. Me and meself, off for a morning coffee. On the table in her kitchen was a flat of grass, well, it looked like grass to me. Attached to that table was a grinder of some sort. Looked to me like a meat grinder, the hand cranked style. “Wanna try something really cool?” was the question posed to me. Well, of course, always up for something cool, and I suspected it had something to do with the flat of grass on the table. Cousin went on to explaining that they were growing wheat grass. Well, that to me is rather odd....
My parents were Mormon. And Mormons are known for the food storage preparations. I have to go back in years here, many years, because this has to do with wheat. Wheat, yes....there will be another post soon about something that I got from my Sister that was my Mamma’s, long been in storage, but has been resurrected and will work again, that will be a surprise, when I get that going, smiling. Wheat. Yep, this is about wheat.
So, so many years ago, on my 21st birthday, my Mother gave me a present. I thought it was kind of stupid, but I accepted it graciously. It was a sack of wheat. Huh? A sack of wheat, ah come on, what on earth would a 21 year old woman with two kids do with a sack of wheat. Nuthin’. Absolutely nothin’. I’ll say it again, nuthin’, absolutely nuthin’. That sack of wheat must have been to her, a most precious gift. Me nope. But I tucked it away in a closet. Harumph. A bag of wheat. Whatever!!! I do recall some beautiful writing on that bag of wheat though, words from the love of a Mother’s heart. My mother had a grain mill, an electric one, and would grind her own wheat and make bread. I guess she thought I might want to grind wheat one day.
The years passed on, and I brought that bag of wheat with me everywhere we moved to. There were a few moves during my younger years, searching for the right place to be. Married (for the last time, smiling) and another big move. Oh boy, hope you brought a cup of java as you read. This was not intended to become those usual ramblin’ stories I tell, but rats, tales must be told. Ya, so that bag of wheat, all over the devil’s half acre. It finally rested in a basement, unbeknownst to me that there would be moisture. This wheat was for the food storage (along with a brick of cheese that was so heavy that I could barely pick it up, purchased my same woman, my Mamma, from Armstrong, back probably in 1975 or so, long gone, all eaten up). The wheat had been stored, the cheese, well, not...back to story. We moved to a home that had a basement and that basement leaked. Shoulda known when there was a sump pump in one corner, near the washer and dryer. I can recall that sump pump not working now and then. We could not get into the basement because of the high water and would have to throw, yes, get this (I was probably 32 at that time) yes, THROW a hunk of wood across the basement to smack the sump pump which then would begin to pump, and it would pump all the water out in a few minutes. That moisture got to my wheat and it perished, sigh....I had towed that hunk of bag around for so many years. Oh well. The wheat grass. Drat, now where was I?
Right, back to coffee and wheat grass juice at my Cousin’s home. How do I go about to ramble such as I do, honestly, have no clue, but do so, my pardon...
So, as my Cousin was telling me about the growing of the wheat grass, she also explained to me that they were making wheat grass juice. Hmm...how interesting. I know my little Sister used to pop wheat, and it was really good. But juice from the wheat. OK. Now that is coming up bordering weird. So, out came the scissors and she cut a whack of the wheat, right down to about ½ inch above soil level. She proceeded to push the green grass down the hopper of the grinder and out flowed the prettiest colour of green liquid that I have ever seen. I could smell the scent of the wheat as it was being crushed, oh glory be. Like a beautiful summer day, sitting outside chomping on a piece of grass. Done that many a time, I am so sure many of us know this taste, this scent, of the freshly chewed grass. I liken it to the breath of our old Jersey cow, Candy. Oh how I loved when I visited her, and she had a mouthful of that green spring grass, her breath, oh her breath...I miss the breath of the cow. Nearly as much as I miss and love the scent of the puppy breath. Two scents that strike my fancy. Cow breath and puppy breath, beautiful scents that come from the mouth of a most beautiful couple of types of critters. Think I am very scent oriented. Horses have nice breath too, but for some reason, the breath of a cow munching on fresh grass is one in a million. Ummmm, I can still feel that scent, so many years ago, in the eye of my mind.
Yes. Back to my Cousin and Auntie. Auntie was the one that handed me the little glass of juice. She warned me to only drink some, a good mouthful, I heeded her warning. Still don’t know why, but maybe she was afraid I would froth at the mouth and spew that green elixir on the floor, and such a waste that would be. I recall that taste, nearly made me fall over it was so powerful. Did not know if I loved it or hated it, but swallowed down that mouthful. What a sweet taste, powerful, oh so sweet, strong. Reminded me of the buffalo grass that I had taken to chew on one time, very sharp grass, tough, but it had a very strong taste too. I recall thinking how interesting this taste was, how it lingered on my tongue and my throat. How interesting. I remember how long my breath tasted of grass, reminded me of the days of smelling Candy’s beautiful, grassy breath. I likened myself to a cow that day, although no cud to spit out, that was in the grinder apparatus. I am not sure if cud is the correct term, as that basically refers to a ruminant regurgitated matter. But I think it a good word. Cud. I will call the grass that has no juice left in it cud. Anyone? Is this a correct terminology, please correct if I am wrong. Anyways, I think it a good word, rightly or wrongly used.
Auntie went on to explain that the spent grass, which has no juice left in it now was not really that good to eat. Quite indigestible by the human folk, so it is discarded. I was amazed at how much juice came from a flat of grass. Cousin had 4 kids at that time, plus Auntie, and me, so a tray of grass was used up daily. She put the massive flat of wheat grass roots into a composting bin. And guess what!! That day when we went to put the root mass into that compost pile, a colony of bumble bees had moved in and made a nest in the lower part, which we could still see. Now if that wasn’t just darn cool.
Ya, so back to wheatgrass. Boy this surely has turned out to be much more long that I had planned. Wow.
Yep. Wheat grass. I have delved deeply into the thoughts of myself, to grow wheat grass, just like Cuz. So I did. Got that grass a’growin’ in our home. Got that grass cut and made some juice and we drink it daily. It is said that when the grass is juiced, it should be consumed within one half hour of juicing. The goodness leaves the liquid quite quickly. I would imagine it would be fine to leave it longer, but of course, the potency would diminish. Ya, feelin’ pretty good about drinking the juice. And it is very yummy. Absolutely shocking the first time that I partook in the drink, but very easy to get used to. I am getting my family interested and the wheat grass is now growing in a few homes. The grass can be cut and stored in the fridge evidently up to about a week, providing it is dry and in a proper container, such as a plastic bag, without losing very much nutritional value.s
When we went down to the coast last weekend. I brought a couple of trays of germinated seeds and left them with my Sister for her and her family to enjoy. Wheat grass grows at an alarmingly fast rate. Friday it was just sprouted. By Wednesday, my Sister was cutting and eating it. She does not have a juicer, so she uses her mouth and teeth. Chews on the grass, swallowing the juices that are obtained from the chewed grass and it is wonderful to her. She spits out the spent grass. Her Husband is a trier. He will try anything. So the other day, would have been Thursday, she gave him a baggie of wheat grass to munch on during the day. This is kind of an interesting thing. He came home from work and told her he wondered what on earth may have been put on the grass. It is called grass, right....is there pot or something in it, he told her that he knows that the coco plant leaves have stuff in them that people enjoy, what was in the grass. He was saying these things cause he said he never felt so good when he got home from work, as long as he could remember. She told me that he had told her that he felt like he still wanted to do stuff, instead of laying down and relaxing, perhaps napping is what he meant. He said he felt so full of energy, he was kind of worried about what may have been in the grass he chewed on. I can see my Sister smiling, knowing full well it is just the jampacked nutrients in the grass. We all know that sprouted seeds are jampacked full of really, really good stuff. To me that is a testament that something really good is in the leaves. For him to feel so overwhelmed with energy is very unusual.
Ya, so wheat grass juice. Lovin’ every minute of it. Taken in moderation, as all things in life, think life will be even more better than it now is. Enjoy the pictures, and also wishes for a wonderful day, CynthiaM.
We made a huge investment a couple of years ago of an auger style juicer, the name is Hurom. I used to say Huron, until my Husband corrected me the other day. Think I must have been thinking of one of the lakes in Canada, smiling.
It works very nicely and makes lovely juice. I find that the juice it makes though still has a goodly amount of pulp left in it. The spent product comes out on one side through a passageway and the juice comes out the other side. I do not mind the pulp, but it does not make a clear juice. For example apple juice is not really juice using this process, it is more thick than I would like it for drinking, but that is OK, so much goodness is still in the pulp of products that are juiced. We find the grass grinds much better if cut into smaller lengths than the approximate 6” of cut product.
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This is the remnant of the grass after juicing
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This is what the grass looks like growing
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And this is the most incredible root system imaginable, only about 7 days into the growth
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I recall one beautiful summer morning, I went for a coffee visit. My Cousin lives in a beautiful, rambling rancher on hundreds of acres of blueberry fields. Her Mamma lived on the property too. A lovely visit would ensue with both Mother and Daughter. Time has passed, my Auntie has left this world for another place, where there is no illness nor pain.
Yes, that beautiful summer morning. Me and meself, off for a morning coffee. On the table in her kitchen was a flat of grass, well, it looked like grass to me. Attached to that table was a grinder of some sort. Looked to me like a meat grinder, the hand cranked style. “Wanna try something really cool?” was the question posed to me. Well, of course, always up for something cool, and I suspected it had something to do with the flat of grass on the table. Cousin went on to explaining that they were growing wheat grass. Well, that to me is rather odd....
My parents were Mormon. And Mormons are known for the food storage preparations. I have to go back in years here, many years, because this has to do with wheat. Wheat, yes....there will be another post soon about something that I got from my Sister that was my Mamma’s, long been in storage, but has been resurrected and will work again, that will be a surprise, when I get that going, smiling. Wheat. Yep, this is about wheat.
So, so many years ago, on my 21st birthday, my Mother gave me a present. I thought it was kind of stupid, but I accepted it graciously. It was a sack of wheat. Huh? A sack of wheat, ah come on, what on earth would a 21 year old woman with two kids do with a sack of wheat. Nuthin’. Absolutely nothin’. I’ll say it again, nuthin’, absolutely nuthin’. That sack of wheat must have been to her, a most precious gift. Me nope. But I tucked it away in a closet. Harumph. A bag of wheat. Whatever!!! I do recall some beautiful writing on that bag of wheat though, words from the love of a Mother’s heart. My mother had a grain mill, an electric one, and would grind her own wheat and make bread. I guess she thought I might want to grind wheat one day.
The years passed on, and I brought that bag of wheat with me everywhere we moved to. There were a few moves during my younger years, searching for the right place to be. Married (for the last time, smiling) and another big move. Oh boy, hope you brought a cup of java as you read. This was not intended to become those usual ramblin’ stories I tell, but rats, tales must be told. Ya, so that bag of wheat, all over the devil’s half acre. It finally rested in a basement, unbeknownst to me that there would be moisture. This wheat was for the food storage (along with a brick of cheese that was so heavy that I could barely pick it up, purchased my same woman, my Mamma, from Armstrong, back probably in 1975 or so, long gone, all eaten up). The wheat had been stored, the cheese, well, not...back to story. We moved to a home that had a basement and that basement leaked. Shoulda known when there was a sump pump in one corner, near the washer and dryer. I can recall that sump pump not working now and then. We could not get into the basement because of the high water and would have to throw, yes, get this (I was probably 32 at that time) yes, THROW a hunk of wood across the basement to smack the sump pump which then would begin to pump, and it would pump all the water out in a few minutes. That moisture got to my wheat and it perished, sigh....I had towed that hunk of bag around for so many years. Oh well. The wheat grass. Drat, now where was I?
Right, back to coffee and wheat grass juice at my Cousin’s home. How do I go about to ramble such as I do, honestly, have no clue, but do so, my pardon...
So, as my Cousin was telling me about the growing of the wheat grass, she also explained to me that they were making wheat grass juice. Hmm...how interesting. I know my little Sister used to pop wheat, and it was really good. But juice from the wheat. OK. Now that is coming up bordering weird. So, out came the scissors and she cut a whack of the wheat, right down to about ½ inch above soil level. She proceeded to push the green grass down the hopper of the grinder and out flowed the prettiest colour of green liquid that I have ever seen. I could smell the scent of the wheat as it was being crushed, oh glory be. Like a beautiful summer day, sitting outside chomping on a piece of grass. Done that many a time, I am so sure many of us know this taste, this scent, of the freshly chewed grass. I liken it to the breath of our old Jersey cow, Candy. Oh how I loved when I visited her, and she had a mouthful of that green spring grass, her breath, oh her breath...I miss the breath of the cow. Nearly as much as I miss and love the scent of the puppy breath. Two scents that strike my fancy. Cow breath and puppy breath, beautiful scents that come from the mouth of a most beautiful couple of types of critters. Think I am very scent oriented. Horses have nice breath too, but for some reason, the breath of a cow munching on fresh grass is one in a million. Ummmm, I can still feel that scent, so many years ago, in the eye of my mind.
Yes. Back to my Cousin and Auntie. Auntie was the one that handed me the little glass of juice. She warned me to only drink some, a good mouthful, I heeded her warning. Still don’t know why, but maybe she was afraid I would froth at the mouth and spew that green elixir on the floor, and such a waste that would be. I recall that taste, nearly made me fall over it was so powerful. Did not know if I loved it or hated it, but swallowed down that mouthful. What a sweet taste, powerful, oh so sweet, strong. Reminded me of the buffalo grass that I had taken to chew on one time, very sharp grass, tough, but it had a very strong taste too. I recall thinking how interesting this taste was, how it lingered on my tongue and my throat. How interesting. I remember how long my breath tasted of grass, reminded me of the days of smelling Candy’s beautiful, grassy breath. I likened myself to a cow that day, although no cud to spit out, that was in the grinder apparatus. I am not sure if cud is the correct term, as that basically refers to a ruminant regurgitated matter. But I think it a good word. Cud. I will call the grass that has no juice left in it cud. Anyone? Is this a correct terminology, please correct if I am wrong. Anyways, I think it a good word, rightly or wrongly used.
Auntie went on to explain that the spent grass, which has no juice left in it now was not really that good to eat. Quite indigestible by the human folk, so it is discarded. I was amazed at how much juice came from a flat of grass. Cousin had 4 kids at that time, plus Auntie, and me, so a tray of grass was used up daily. She put the massive flat of wheat grass roots into a composting bin. And guess what!! That day when we went to put the root mass into that compost pile, a colony of bumble bees had moved in and made a nest in the lower part, which we could still see. Now if that wasn’t just darn cool.
Ya, so back to wheatgrass. Boy this surely has turned out to be much more long that I had planned. Wow.
Yep. Wheat grass. I have delved deeply into the thoughts of myself, to grow wheat grass, just like Cuz. So I did. Got that grass a’growin’ in our home. Got that grass cut and made some juice and we drink it daily. It is said that when the grass is juiced, it should be consumed within one half hour of juicing. The goodness leaves the liquid quite quickly. I would imagine it would be fine to leave it longer, but of course, the potency would diminish. Ya, feelin’ pretty good about drinking the juice. And it is very yummy. Absolutely shocking the first time that I partook in the drink, but very easy to get used to. I am getting my family interested and the wheat grass is now growing in a few homes. The grass can be cut and stored in the fridge evidently up to about a week, providing it is dry and in a proper container, such as a plastic bag, without losing very much nutritional value.s
When we went down to the coast last weekend. I brought a couple of trays of germinated seeds and left them with my Sister for her and her family to enjoy. Wheat grass grows at an alarmingly fast rate. Friday it was just sprouted. By Wednesday, my Sister was cutting and eating it. She does not have a juicer, so she uses her mouth and teeth. Chews on the grass, swallowing the juices that are obtained from the chewed grass and it is wonderful to her. She spits out the spent grass. Her Husband is a trier. He will try anything. So the other day, would have been Thursday, she gave him a baggie of wheat grass to munch on during the day. This is kind of an interesting thing. He came home from work and told her he wondered what on earth may have been put on the grass. It is called grass, right....is there pot or something in it, he told her that he knows that the coco plant leaves have stuff in them that people enjoy, what was in the grass. He was saying these things cause he said he never felt so good when he got home from work, as long as he could remember. She told me that he had told her that he felt like he still wanted to do stuff, instead of laying down and relaxing, perhaps napping is what he meant. He said he felt so full of energy, he was kind of worried about what may have been in the grass he chewed on. I can see my Sister smiling, knowing full well it is just the jampacked nutrients in the grass. We all know that sprouted seeds are jampacked full of really, really good stuff. To me that is a testament that something really good is in the leaves. For him to feel so overwhelmed with energy is very unusual.
Ya, so wheat grass juice. Lovin’ every minute of it. Taken in moderation, as all things in life, think life will be even more better than it now is. Enjoy the pictures, and also wishes for a wonderful day, CynthiaM.
We made a huge investment a couple of years ago of an auger style juicer, the name is Hurom. I used to say Huron, until my Husband corrected me the other day. Think I must have been thinking of one of the lakes in Canada, smiling.
It works very nicely and makes lovely juice. I find that the juice it makes though still has a goodly amount of pulp left in it. The spent product comes out on one side through a passageway and the juice comes out the other side. I do not mind the pulp, but it does not make a clear juice. For example apple juice is not really juice using this process, it is more thick than I would like it for drinking, but that is OK, so much goodness is still in the pulp of products that are juiced. We find the grass grinds much better if cut into smaller lengths than the approximate 6” of cut product.
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This is the remnant of the grass after juicing
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This is what the grass looks like growing
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And this is the most incredible root system imaginable, only about 7 days into the growth
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. For now, they can chew the grass, she loves the scent it gives her breath, 