To be completely honest, the first time I went foraging for woodruff was pure torture.

This beautiful plant is one of the botanical cornerstones of Passing Clouds, lending it the warm honey and almond notes that make it so comforting, and we need to pick enough of it from spring through summer to last us the whole year. I asked a forager friend for their tips on the best places to find it and, one bright summer's day in 2022, I took the train out to Lyngby with a couple of team mates to go in search of it.

The problem was thus: woodruff grows in the dappled shade beneath mixed woodland, and it is in such an environment that my greatest nemesis - the mosquito - also thrives. 

Like a naive fool, I had worn shorts - it was a sunny day after all. BIG mistake. Within seconds of venturing into the thicket my legs were swarmed and covered with bites. Cursing, I retreated out to the safety of the sunlit path. My team mates were wearing jeans and hoodies that they had pulled up over their heads and were getting to work. 

This was now a deeply embarrassing situation. I'm supposed to be the boss. I can't just stand here on the path in the sunshine and shout encouragement to my team from the sidelines. The shame was intolerable, so I ventured back in. 

It was hideous. Never wear shorts to go foraging. That's my lesson.

These days the team goes together to a better spot - a hidden area of the forest near Sorø where there is an endless green blanket of woodruff covering the ground right through summer. It's a day away from the blendery, the emails, the tanks and the rhythm of production. It's part work, part escape. 

The return of woodruff season has come to represent a milestone for us here at MURI. The bags of it we bring back fill the blendery with smells of freshly cut hay and marzipan, reassuring us that the dark nordic winter is over and long summer days are just around the corner.

It's one of the reasons Passing Clouds feels so celebratory. 

Cheers, 

Murray

Founder at MURI