Growing up, even my devoutly allopathically allegiant family would pour out a little hot-lemony-honey-tea-with-whiskey on occasion as a cold cure.
Ok, let’s get real: we all know that was just an excuse to open the liquor cabinet. But, they would make a fresh ginger tea for an upset tummy or throw a handful of fresh field mint in the summer iced tea.
What I’m trying to say is that even when we suspect that our culture has become hopelessly bland and homogenous and we think our cultural connection to natural wisdom is lost or gone for for good, it turns out that a connection to our cultural roots is often hiding in sneaky little herbal tricks that happen in the kitchen when you’re not feeling good.
They come in the strangest forms:
Once when I was riding out the late stages of a cold and getting a cough, Sasi introduced a particularly weird one. He hollowed out a black radish and carefully pierced a thin hole down through to the pointy tip. He set it over a jar and filled the top with raw honey. After a few hours, enough honey had trickled through which he then fed me by the spoonful to stop the cough. He claimed it was a piece of his cultural inheritance. I was sure he was pulling my leg.
Last year in Russia, we were out in the wild woods mushrooming. I was in unfamiliar territory and way off trail (because how else are you going to land the mother lode of porcinis?!). I must have strayed into territory the local spirits didn’t want me or something–whatever that means–because I suddenly came down with abdominal cramping, fever and nausea. I was quickly brought home, tucked under covers on the couch and served the local medicine, tried and true: a generous double-shot of slightly warmed vodka with a 1/2 teaspoon of salt.
But it hurt so good.
And I recovered quickly.
Anyway, NPR just did a piece called “Horseradish Tea and Other Quirky Cold Cures.” Click “Listen to the Story” to hear the full piece. Then, come back over here and post yours!