Making comfrey glycerite

I am enamoured by the idea of plants transforming raw material of sunlight and air into the products we use today. The fact is that plants, deriving hydrogen and carbon from the air, can and do serve many of these advanced functions as hydrocarbons in petroleum, minus much of the toxicity and detriment to ecology.

Of all the plants commonly used, comfrey has some of the most potential as a sunlight and air converting living contraption. Beyond any refinement of the contraptions used today, it yields excellent mulch for fertility and weed control, but also medical products.

Comfrey contains allantoin -a molecule which, in the human body, acts as a cell proliferant, i.e. helps tissue regenerate faster. Its use in this sense is ancient. Although this has not helped it in the present day, as it came out of the dark ages with plenty of superstition clogging its public image. But fast forward to the World Wars and mountains of comfrey were coming out of farmer’s fields for its patently proven ability to heal the wounds of war.


To apply these benefits, I usually grab a leaf, squeeze the midrib, and find a clear liquid gel appearing at the end of the open stem. It’s surprising how much of this can be applied, as it absorbs quickly. With multiple applications, many wounds that have befallen me have healed without even the slightest visible scar.


Before I go too far, and my trained herbalist friends reading this have to lecture me again on the delicacy of herbal healing, you shouldn’t apply comfrey to wounds or diagnose yourself without consulting a trained medical professional. Comfrey does have some contraindications for its use. For instance, if a wound is infected, or not cleaned, comfrey is not the herb for the job.

I’ll offer one situation comfrey was especially helpful to me: I was at a client’s, by myself, cutting a long, long row filled with some of the biggest, most beautiful comfrey when the blade I was using gave me a morbid bite. The wound was on my thumb, and penetrated even into the nail. Out in the middle of a field, I decided to gamble with my life (as it seems I often do) and staunch the bleeding with some yarrow (Alchillea millefolium), then got on with cutting comfrey, applying gel from the stems over and over again as the wound sucked it up.

You might call that quite a rash decision, which is why I don’t recommend anyone do the same. To this day I can’t even find a scar.

Assume you do have the green light for comfrey’s use from a trained medical professional, but aren’t in the middle of a comfrey patch? It is possible to infuse an oil, glycerine, or alcohol with this comfrey gel for long-term storage, and quick, simple application.

Such processing may sound complicated at first, but just the other day I made a comfrey glycerite you may find surprisingly simple.

I gather fresh, true comfrey (Symphytum officionalis) in early morning, simply rip off the stem, and upper parts of the leaves, leaving the lower parts where bugs and dead leaves accumulate.

I took a small portion of this big bundle, twisted and ripped the stems into 4 inch lengths, and placed in a stainless steel bowl. I poured certified organic glycerine over this (derived from organic soybeans) and began to knead the comfrey leaves with the glycerine. At first, the mixture went very dry, then became very wet. The clear glycerine turned green as comfrey gel began to spew from the crushed stems.


Once this first bundle was crunched, I added another, mixed, crushed until moist, and repeated. The whole bundle broke down to a very small amount, and the glycerine turned a reddish-black-brown from all the comfrey stuffed into it. It actually resembled iodine.


To get all the goodness from this slurry, a press would have been helpful. Lacking that, I simply gather all the comfrey to one side of the container, and pressed until I lifted myself off the floor. The glycerite oozed from the mess into the empty side of the bowl and could be easily poured through a sieve into mason jars. After much gymnastics, I got well over a quart.

With so much of the stuff, I intend to supplement the Bovidine© my parents use for the teats of their dairy cows for at least the post milking teat-dip. Another portion of it I mixed with unrefined wheat germ oil, several essential oils, and tinctures for a mixture I apply to my skin daily. Good stuff.

It is likely many more products could be derived from comfrey alone if we applied ourselves to its study. As such, it offers an opportunity to fill a vital role in a more sustainable, healthy future.


  1. Mind that comfrey can be damaging to the liver if ingested. (So wash those cows’ udders.)

    Apart from that, yes, it’s good stuff. Also, it’s goodness is not just skin deep. Its name in European folk medicine is knitbone.

    From personal experience this holds true. I have a superpower in that I’m able to fall of the bike in a superman fashion (flying forward) while going uphill. In this way I managed to break my arm in 4 places (as I said it’s a superpower). With comfrey it was ready for physical therapy in 2 weeks which was very good indeed.


    1. Wow that is a superpower! And 4 places? Sheesh that sounds like it hurt.

      We always wash the udders before milking, and as I mentioned this would be a post dip -after milking, so very little may even make it to the next milking. You might be interested to find out more about what actual damage comfrey can have on the liver. See this page: A very thorough study by a lab that pins down each of the pyrizoidial alkaloids (the substances said to cause the “damage”) over 150 samples from different sites. They found it is not only very hard to pin down a standard amount of PA’s but also that the key PA’s with hepatic toxicity are seldom to be found in comfrey. If they are, they are in the roots, with very little in the leaves accept in early spring shoots. So perhaps you did less damage to your liver when applying that apparently super poultice than you thought?

      Thanks for filling me in on yet another fascinating backstory of yourself.



    2. Hi Crt,
      I have a client from Belgium that is intrigued by what I’ve told him about you and your work. He has quite a notable food forest of his own, and would be especially interested in hearing how you propagate your Eleagnus (I told him I have never been able to duplicate your results). If you’re interested in chatting with him, let me know and I’ll give you his contact. Hope everything is well with you.


      1. Hey,

        sure, that’s quite welcome.

        Yeah, I’m OK as well. Although, you know… Remember that thing about the “falling off the bike while going uphill” superpower that needed an application of comfrey to counter the consequences? Well. A month ago I was going uphill again with my biking friend, chatting away, everything going fine and peachy, close to the top… When suddenly I was on the ground. The bike frame broke. Good job 🙂

        Apart from that, winter has arrived here. Young plants which don’t have a permanent home have been packed into 200-liter (50-gallon approx) wine barrels on the souther side of the house under an awning. Bees are in hibernation. We’re counting down until February 14. The local saying is “Valentin ima ključ od korenin” – St. Valentine has the key to the roots – the plants start growing again.


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