CHINESE LANTERNS
I am always searching for plants that make great combinations. Right now, fall asters are everywhere. In the “waste spaces”–ditches, roadsides and undeveloped areas–wild white asters predominate. Home gardens and retailers’ establishments display a stunning array of pink, purple, blue purple and white cultivated varieties. I am especially partial to the dark blue-purple asters and have been thinking about suitable plant partners for them. Now that the vogue for fall-blooming pansies has migrated from the South to the Northeast, I could match my dark asters with some of the orange or russet pansies. I might also get the same effect with mums in similar tawny shades. On the other hand, I might do something a little less conventional. The other day I saw a lonely Chinese lantern plant in a neighbor’s yard and thought how lovely it would look if its brilliant orange “lanterns” could be installed in my garden next to a dark purple aster. I resisted the urge to steal the Chinese lantern and start the experiment immediately.
I don’t know why I have never had a Chinese lantern or Physalis alkekengi in my garden. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that the soft, toothed leaves aren’t particularly attractive and the flowers are tiny and nondescript. Like forsythia, Chinese lantern has a single period of glory and it comes in September, when the fruits ripen, their small tomato-like bodies cloaked in a calyx that looks like an orange Chinese lantern. The “lanterns” are fascinating to adults as well as children. The only ones I remember from my childhood were in the dried arrangements that were a fixture on our front hall table every fall. Someone must have grown them, but I can’t recall any of my parents’ friends having them in their gardens.
Physalis alkekengi has several evocative common names in addition to “Chinese lantern.” In various places at various times it has been called “winter cherry,” “bladder cherry,” “Japanese Lantern” and “strawberry tomato.” Unlike some other members of the genus Physalis that originated in the New World, the alkekengi species is native to Europe, Asia and Japan. “Physalis” comes from the ancient Greek word “phusa,” which means “bladder” and refers to the calyx or “lantern.” It was introduced into England in the thirteenth century, but did not catch on and was reintroduced in that country in 1548. Though documentation of its arrival in America seems to be somewhat lacking, Chinese lantern probably arrived with early English settlers. Once planted here, its somewhat rampant nature probably ensured its success.
Physalis is a member of the Solanaceae or nightshade family which makes it kin to mandrake, belladonna and nicotiana, not to mention edible nightshades like potatoes, tomatoes and peppers. Sources agree that the berries housed in those “lanterns” are edible, though the “lanterns” themselves are poisonous. Other plant parts, particularly the leaves, may also be poisonous, especially if eaten raw.
Mrs. Maude Grieve, in her wonderful 1931 book “A Modern Herbal,” writes that Physalis fruits, which are rich in Vitamin C, have been used for centuries in the treatment of urinary problems, fevers and gout. Processed decoctions of the leaves and stems have been used to remedy “the malaise that follows malaria.” In this day and age, when we have better treatments for both malaria and the mysterious “malaise,” it is highly likely that nobody makes decoctions of physalis leaves any more. Given their toxic nature, that is a very good thing.
Lovers of Mexican cuisine are probably familiar with a Chinese lantern relative, Physalis ixocarpa or Physalis philadelphica, otherwise known as the tomatillo. Depending on the variety, tomatillo can be either sweet or sour. The sour or tart tomatillos are used in salsa and the sweet ones are sometimes made into jam.
Because Chinese lanterns are both non-native and invasive under certain circumstances, they seem to have fallen from favor. Artificial ones show up in craft stores in the fall, but live plants do not seem to be widely available from retailers. If you live in the suburbs, you will be hard pressed to find a neighbor who has them, so obtaining a free plant from a generous fellow gardener will be next to impossible.
Fortunately Chinese lanterns are very easy to grow from seed and the seed is commercially available in the spring. If you do grow the plants successfully, they are also a snap to dry for indoor arrangements. Simply cut the stems, strip off the leaves and let the “lanterns” dry naturally.
I still think Chinese lanterns will make a good addition to my fall garden, when paired with purple-leafed or purple-flowered plants. I’ll note that in my garden diary for next spring. If you feel inclined to do the same, you can order your Physalis alkekengi seed from W. Atlee Burpee & Co., 300 Park Avenue, Warminster, PA 18974; 724-263-0363; www.burpee.com. Free catalog.