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Ginger Water

By Allison

I can easily drink tea all day long, but I like to have some caffeine-free sipping options on hand as well—sparkling water, a chamomile infusion, or ginger water.  Ginger water is new in my kitchen.  I make it by the liter and drink it at room temperature—plain or with a squeeze of lemon juice.  A splash of sparkling water is nice.  For a little sweetness, you could stir in a tablespoon or two of honey before the water cools.

So why ginger water?  It is tasty yet gentle, and I find it to be simultaneously soothing and revitalizing.  I rehydrate with a glass first thing in the morning, and I often have another in the afternoon.  Drinking ginger water helps me to feel healthy, but if it weren’t delicious, I wouldn’t drink it.  It’s my no-sugar ginger lemonade.

 

Inspirations

The Chopra Institute lays out the benefits of ginger here.

If you’re craving something sweeter, I recommend Chocolate and Zucchini’s recipe for ginger lemonade.

 

Ginger Water

Created by on May 5, 2018

More than a recipe, this is a method.  Use a little less or a little more ginger, more or less water.  You could also boil the water and ginger on the stove top for a stronger ginger flavor.  I leave the pitcher of ginger water on the counter during the day and put it in...

Ingredients

  • 3 inch piece of ginger
  • 1 L filtered water

Instructions

  1. Peel ginger with the back of a spoon
  2. Slice ginger and place in large bowl
  3. Bring water to a boil, and pour over ginger
  4. Steep until water has cooled to room temperature, about 45 minutes
  5. Strain through a sieve and pour into pitcher
  6. Drink at room temperature or chilled. Ginger flavor is more pronounced when water is at room temperature.

Chamomile/Camomile

By Allison

chamomile herbal teaI am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.  His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter! —The Tale of Peter Rabbit, Beatrix Potter

With her strong connection to the natural world, Beatrix Potter knew that chamomile was just the thing to ease her mischievous protagonist.  Preparing and sipping herbal infusions is soothing and healing.  But we needn’t wait for upset to benefit from them!

In the last few years, I have liberalized my consumption of chamomile and other tisanes.  I admit to getting a little bored with plain water.  I crave variety.  I always keep a few herbal teas on hand, and chamomile is one of my “fun” hydration options.  I find chamomile to have herbaceous, subtly floral notes.  Warm, it calms me.  At room temperature, the drink tastes more botanical.  Chilled chamomile tea is refreshing and cooling.

Studies on the health benefits of chamomile are intriguing. Yet even without reading up on the medicinal uses of this dainty flower, we can choose to use it in healing ways. As we prepare tisanes, we connect with the plant and the people who grew and harvested it.  Drinking a chamomile infusion is hydrating, and that in itself is therapeutic. Peter’s mother instinctively knew that chamomile would help her little rabbit.  We, too, can trust ourselves to reach for the tin of chamomile when we need to rebalance, rehydrate, or rejuvenate.

 

Inspirations

Miss Potter, a charming biographical film about Beatrix Potter

Blog post on chamomile and other tisanes, by tea expert Bruce Richardson

 

 

Maximizing Summer

By Allison

My little patio garden is bursting.  Each year, I tinker with this square space off my kitchen.  I’ve learned that it’s too sunny for impatiens and that begonias thrive in the morning sun.  Potted herbs always take off, and so each summer I find myself swirling ribbons of basil into gazpacho, stirring mint into lemonade, and topping my green salads with chives.

Yet as much as I cook, I can’t possibly use all the herbs tumbling over the terra cotta pots!  The basil is blended into pesto, frozen in ice cube trays, and then transferred to freezer bags, to be popped out later in the year.  Last summer, I finally started drying sage, mint, thyme, and rosemary.  Why did I not think to do this before?

After snipping the herbs, I bring them inside and give them a good rinse.  I remove and discard all the yellowed or bruised leaves and thoroughly dry the rest. I lay them out on a big plate, and the drying process begins.  In the days that follow, I flip them, shift them, and watch their slow transformation.  As I go about my day, I may sense a hint of mint in the air; sometimes I’ll notice the sage leaves begin to curl.  I honor the humble beauty of a patio garden by preparing herbs for colder seasons.  I waste less of summer’s goodness.  And perhaps most unexpectedly, the weeks of herb drying become a meditative experience for me—one that requires focus, attentiveness, and care.

Each herb dries in its own time. As they are ready, I gently nestle them into the glass jars I’ve set aside and labeled.  Months later, I will reach for them to season a pot of lentils or bundle them into a bouquet garni.  These moments will bring me back to the summer fullness of my lively little patio and to the slow beauty of watching herbs dry.