It may be rooted in Persian traditions: before Iranians celebrate New Year (Narouz) at spring equinox, everything in the house is cleaned. Or it may be tied to the ritual of ridding Jewish homes of any bits of unleavened bread before Passover, which eventually gave rise to a thorough house-cleaning.
Whatever culture it’s rooted in, it likely hit its halcyon in Victorian times, when cleanliness was next to godliness, or at least proof of moral rectitude, and women measured their worth by how their laundry looked on a clothesline, with bloomers discreetly hung to dry in a pillowcase.
But I think the ritual of spring cleaning, at least here on the wet coast, came from the fact that around this time of year, sooner or later the clouds part enough to allow a wedge of sunlight into your house. At which point you’re doomed.
Yikes! Where did it all come from, the gossamer dust layers coating shelves and TV screens, the cobwebs criss-crossing ceiling corners, the dog hairs rolled into rivulets along the baseboards?
And therein lies the joy of socked-in weather. You barely have to houseclean, unless you have halogen lighting.
I doubt if anyone spring cleans much anymore, but some people like the idea of cleaning their bodies in the spring — after all, it’s the time of renewal. Personally, I’m too lazy and too leery to go full hog on a body cleanse or anything quite so radical, but I do notice that I start to salivate when bundles of tender young asparagus tips show up on my grocer’s shelves.
No doubt, it’s all part of the yin and yang of things, changing our eating habits as the days lengthen and more fresh food becomes available. Fresh local produce is still weeks away, but to get you through in the meantime, here are two “seedy” ideas to spring clean the old bod on one level or another.
SPRING FOR SPROUTS
A lot of people swear by sprouts — alfalfa, broccoli, bean or otherwise — rather than lettuce or something like endive for their sandwich and salad greens.
With the prices of such leafy beauties through the roof these days, sprouts make a great alternative, especially since sprouts contain a lot of nutritional proteins, carbohydrates, minerals, and vitamins. Bonus: Studies at John Hopkins University concluded that raw broccoli sprouts may be rich in a substance which reduces the risk of cancer.
Even though the sprout industry has grown to something like a US$25-million market share in the U.S., the product is not without risk. Several out-breaks of food-borne illnesses, including E. coli and salmonella, have been associated with sprouts over the years, which could result in a kind of cleanse you will not have counted on.
Most of these cases, and they weren’t many, resulted from poor growing practices and have largely been resolved now that most sprouts are grown hydroponically.
Regardless, if you buy commercial spouts, check the bottom of the container — if they come in one — for freshness. And rinse them well before using.
The obvious solution for eliminating the risk of risk is to simply grow your own. Just make sure you use organic, untreated seeds, which can usually be had at your favourite health food store.
In hippy days, no respectable vegetarian kitchen in Kitsilano was without its sprouter — a clear, plastic cylinder of three or more trays that could sprout more sprouts than a person could use. These were usually of the alfalfa or mung bean variety, since no one had twigged on to other types yet.
If you can talk a farmer in Pemberton out of a handful of wheat, it’s equally easy to grow a little pot of wheat grass. Soak the seeds overnight in warm water. In the morning, drain them and place a layer of seed in a container filled with moist soil. Cover the seed with more moist soil and then cover the entire dish with plastic wrap and place in a warm, dark corner of your kitchen.
The seeds will begin to sprout in about three to five days. Snip off what you want with scissors and leave the bottoms to re-grow. If you don’t use all you cut, put the remainder in the fridge.
You should get a few harvests out of one batch of seeds, and you’ll feel very springy just seeing them grow on your counter.
FLEX WITH FLAXSEED
These days flaxseed is looking like a miracle food — loaded with omega-3s; good for your blood sugar, staving off diabetes, and cholesterol levels and fighting some cancers, including breast cancer, as well as inflammation and auto-immune conditions.
The trick with flaxseed is you have to grind it; your body can’t absorb the goodness locked inside the hard little seed case. You can buy ground flaxseed, but it must be fresh to be worth eating, so look for vacuum-packed brands like Prairie Premium. At least that way you’ll know how sweet the really fresh stuff can taste.
While commercially ground flaxseed is handy, some people find it pricey, so why not grind your own? An old coffee grinder is just the ticket. Golden or brown flaxseed makes no difference, just try to grind only what you need. Store any extra in the fridge, and use it up quickly.
All the fibre in flaxseed can really spring clean your inner piping, so add it slowly to your diet. Some people sprinkle a bit in just about anything: soups, stews, fruit smoothies, or on top of their porridge.
But here’s a family recipe for cookies that makes eating flaxseed way too easy. They’re ridiculously simple to make, and sinfully delicious — even my dad who doesn’t usually like sweet treats loves them.
Oatmeal flaxseed cookies
1/2 c. canola oil (adjust as you like; I use a scant 1/2 cup)
1/3 c. white sugar
1/4 c. brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 c. whole wheat flour
1/2 c. ground flaxseed
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 c. dried cranberries
1 c. rolled oats
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Thoroughly mix oil and sugars. Add egg and vanilla, mixing well. Add flour, ground flaxseed and baking soda; mix. Stir in cranberries and rolled oats. Drop big tablespoons of dough two inches apart on parchment-lined baking sheets and bake 10-13 minutes. Less time means chewier cookies. If you don’t have parchment, lightly grease your cookie sheets. Makes about two dozen.
Glenda Bartosh is an award-winning freelance writer who, as
a kid, thought the little brown flaxseeds in Sunny Boy porridge were tiny
beetles.
