Sick Tea 4

April 13, 2014

I wanted to write a post about the arrival of spring, the chirping of birds and the buzz of bumblebees in our glass-walled studio. (Maybe I just did, in a single-sentence-blog-post kind of way). Okay–have a photo too.

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But, I am sick. This is supposed to happen in the winter, right? What’s this sneaky virus doing bothering me in April? (I know, I know, plenty of sickness occurs in the warm months, but it should be confined to winter, I say. Universe: make it so.)

Instead of reaching for my garden spade, I reached for the ingredients for my go-to sick remedy. Sick tea. I should really rename it. I’m a writer. I mean, come on.  “Sick” is not one of the ingredients, and all of the actual ingredients are perfectly good recipe-name possibilities. But I’m sick. So I haven’t. You can have a go if you like.

[In a perfect world, I'd also be making Jeni's Influenza Prescription sorbet, with all the best things for a sore throat. I digress, but you should check it out.]

Sick tea has only three ingredients. Well, four if you include the water. Ginger, lemon and honey. But it is the best, THE BEST for sore, scratchy throats and general malaise.

You peel a good two inches of fresh ginger and chop it fairly small, then boil it in a saucepan full of water for about ten minutes. I let mine steep in the water overnight, or all day, until I’ve drunk all the tea and need to start again. The longer you leave the ginger in, the spicier (read: better) the tea gets. To drink, just pour the tea through a small strainer into your tea cup (either hot or cold-t0-be-reheated), add a few squeezes of lemon juice (and throw the lemon slices in too if you want), and a bulging teaspoon of honey. I always want to be generous to myself with the honey when I’m sick. (Or when I’m healthy, come to think of it.)

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And now I must shuffle to the kitchen to make another batch. What do you like to drink when you’re sick? And what comfort foods do you crave? Don’t get me started on the cantaloupe I’m coveting right now…

XO (sniff)

Ria

4 Comments

Sweet Little Something 6

April 11, 2014

Hi there, Weekend. It’s time for Sweet Little Something - an end of the week morsel that we would love your comments on. It may be a photograph, a link, a poem…some tidbit of inspiration. Leave us a note or create a haiku for a photograph if it takes your fancy. Like these musings for Homer the alpaca, bless him. We love hearing from you.

 

From Hannah:

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From Ria:

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Oh the places you will go 6

April 5, 2014

There are so many exciting things to tell you.

 

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When I was in my mid-twenties I travelled around Europe with my friend Brad in a second(probably fourth or fifth)hand campervan named Fred. Fred was a beautiful Frankenstein – white and bulky, a bolted together thing of at least two different vehicles. It had a bed over the cab and another in the back that had to be put together by deconstructing the chairs and table. There was a lilliputian fridge and gas stove. We hung a dangly toy monkey as our nomadic mascot. Brad drove (very capably) while I navigated (poorly). In Fred we visited at least one hundred churches, dozens of stone villages, museums, galleries, canals and fields. We ate a lot of baguettes and baked beans and laughing cow cheese. Every day we woke up with a different view from the one before, the season turning from balmy summer into chilly autumn, the tiny windows by my bed beading with condensation.

 

To start, we took the car ferry from England and driven into France. We had no plan except a couple of key dates to meet up with family. We bought a couple of big map books and a guide to European campsites. The extent of our strategy was: to go clockwise. I’m pretty sure we stopped at the very first campground we came to off the ferry – quiet and small with awful bathrooms. It was the first night of our Grand Adventure. After setting up Fred we walked to the beach and watched people flying kites. Laughed. Took photos. It was almost too exciting to go to bed. The next morning, the one I remember best of all, I woke up early with the sun. I couldn’t remember where I was. The ceiling was awfully close. Oh yes, I am in a sleeping bag, high up, wedged into a nook between driver’s seat and roof. I am in France. I think I lay up there and grinned, non-stop, for at least thirty minutes.

 

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Sweet Little Something 0

April 3, 2014

Hi there, Weekend. It’s time for Sweet Little Something - an end of the week morsel that we would love your comments on. It may be a photograph, a link, a poem…some tidbit of inspiration. Leave us a note or create a haiku for a photograph if it takes your fancy. Like these musings for Homer the alpaca, bless him. We love hearing from you.

 

From Hannah:

Tomorrow, this girl, my gal, turns a big (well, not really) round number birthday age. Happy Birthday, sister. Love you, think you are the bee’s pyjamas, will always have your back. With adoration, H  x x x

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From Ria:

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The Crunch 4

March 30, 2014

Do you cook in phases? And by that I mean “get obsessed with making certain foods” in phases. The homemade pasta phase and the sourdough bread phase come to mind for me. I find it hard to rein in the compulsion. Must. Make. X. [Confession: I am currently operating under (through?) a Mexican food obsession. Poor DH has eaten South-Western/Mexican food for the past three nights, and one of those days--and this was not all my doing--he ate burritos for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And he's not the one with the obsession. My only defense is that spring is making me crave light, bright flavours and less stodge. Plus it's just so delicious.]

So my current (other) cooking phase is granola. This one has been on repeat sporadically for the past five years or so. Why is that? Why do I dredge up a recipe/method for something and then moon over it like an adolescent with a crush? This is not a rhetorical question: do you know why? Anyway, this time I know where it all started. With Ms. Hannah herself, when she innocently sent me a link to a blog post and recipe about chocolate granola. Two great things put together and considered respectable breakfast fare. And dessert fare, for that matter. I don’t have a lot of time these days, but I will make time for that granola.

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