All Things Violet

1 cup violet flowers, freshly picked or dried

10 drops oil of violets

10 drops oil of lavender

6 drops oil of rose

4 tablespoons mild liquid soap, unscented if possible

Put the violet flowers into an earthenware or china jug. Pour over 1/2 pint boiling water, cover with a plate or saucer and leave for 3 hours. Strain, and add the oil of violets to the violet water. Add the other oils and put into an earthenware jug. Stand the jug in about 2 inches of water in a pan, cover the jar so that the oil's vapors don't escape and simmer for 1 hour. Add the liquid soap to the oils and beat well. Remove from the heat and bottle. Shake well before using. Add one or two tablespoons to a bath.

Violet Jam

1/1/2 cups wild violet blossoms*
1 1/2 cups water, divided
Juice of 1 medium lime
2 1/3 cups sugar
1 package (1 3/4 ounces) powdered pectin

Rinse violet blossoms well and place in a blender. Add 3/4 cup water and lime juice; blend well. Gradually add sugar, blending until a smooth paste is formed. In a saucepan, combine pectin and remaining water; bring to a boil and boil for 1 minute. Add to blender and blend for 1 minute. Quickly pour into prepared jars or glasses and seal.

* Be sure to use the common wild violet, not the African violet (often grown as a houseplant).

Violet Ice Cream
1 quart cream
¹/₃ cup Yvette Cordial
³/₄ cup sugar
1 small bunch violets
Few grains salt
Violet coloring

Mix first four ingredients. Remove stems from violets, and pound violets in a mortar until well macerated, then strain through cheese-cloth. Add extract to first mixture; color, freeze, and mould. Serve garnished with fresh or candied violets; the light purple cultivated violets should be used and the result will be most gratifying.

Violets in Literature

She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
--Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!

--William Wordsworth
(1770-1850)

From "The Eve of St. Agnes," XXXVI

Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far
at these voluptuous accents, he arose,
Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star
Seen mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose;
Into her dream he melted, as the rose
Blendeth its odour with the violet,--
Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows
Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet
Against the window-panes: St. Agnes' moon hath set.

--John Keats