Treading ginger-ly

As I was tossing and turning last night, wondering why the soporific effects of my pumpkin and ginger soup were not having the required effect, I started thinking about my relationship with ginger. Was I doing her a disservice by saying that ginger and I had a bit of a shaky relationship? As you discovered yesterday, I did overuse her it a bit… but before that … about 20 odd years ago … things were fine between us.

A brief aside: “Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels”. (Faith Whittlesey)

Anyway, as I was saying – I was a volunteer teacher in China and that was where I got my first real introduction to ginger. Fragrant slices of ginger in the food, slices of gingery spice giving a zing to fish and vegetables. Hot ginger sticky sweets that stuck to the teeth. My prelude to our love duet.

Our relationship became a close one during the cold, damp months of winter when the temperature sank to nearly zero outside, and with it, the inside temperature could barely struggle up to 10 C.

That was the time when you had to dress warmly before getting into bed, sliding into wringing wet sheets because of the damp, clinging onto numerous hot water bottles for warmth and comfort.

That was the time of colds and snuffles and sneezes; the time everyone made ginger tea. We cut up huge slices of fresh ginger and boiled them up with masses and masses of sliced garlic. After boiling for 15 minutes, we strained the tea water, added a dash of honey and drank the liquid. It was strong, powerful – and brought tears to the eyes and colds to their knees.

How grateful I was to ginger back then!

I urge you to try it out: if nothing else, it should keep the vampires away at this time of year….

11 responses

  1. Jen

    Ginger is a wonderful addition to any kitchen. It is also very effective for nausea. Car sickness, ect.

    I love peanut sauce with lots of Ginger in it. It warms me up, and makes me sooooo happy. It also makes the noodles dance.

    Jen

    October 29, 2008 at 15:37

  2. Po

    Gosh, yes, don’t want any vampires coming round. Hang on, I thought that was garlic?

    October 29, 2008 at 15:55

  3. Fresh ginger tea with honey (yes) and garlic (I don’t think so!)-I’m enjoying your memories of your time in China.

    October 29, 2008 at 15:55

  4. ladyfi

    Ginger is wonderful! You can make ginger tea without garlic, of course.. I think that is how it is made traditionally.

    Po: in my post, I tell you to add masses of garlic to the ginger – so that should do it and keep away those vampires… ;-)

    October 29, 2008 at 16:05

  5. I love ginger. I add snippets of it to lots of meals, but have never gone hog wild. Yet. You make me want to up the ante a bit, lol. But I don’t know if I’m ready for that tea!

    October 29, 2008 at 16:59

  6. My mom used to have me drink ginger tea when I was sick, so now I associate the taste of ginger with illness, I think ginger is ruined for me!

    October 29, 2008 at 18:44

  7. hey sorry to comment twice in a row here, the other day you said that you thought my blog banner was not as great as the old one, I couldn’t have agreed more, I made a new one that I think is better, still larger than I want, but there is nothing i can do about that aspect, can you pop over and weigh in on that one when you get a chance? thanks!

    October 29, 2008 at 20:34

  8. Hey Lady Fi! Send a message to my email I think you can access it from the comments?? I hope so.. and then I will email you the article about Far Guy :)

    October 29, 2008 at 21:39

  9. I have never had ginger tea..but I am hearing a lot about it’s remedy for colds. But Garlic gives me hot flashes! :)

    October 29, 2008 at 21:52

  10. Hmmm… that ginger tea sounds like it might fall under the garlic rule: you can only drink it if everyone around you is also having some. But it sounds worth trying, and I have never strictly abided by the garlic rule anyway.

    October 30, 2008 at 01:16

  11. I share your fears. McPalin should send a shiver down any warm-blooded spine.

    I also share your experience of cold damp wintery snuffles and sneezes, and a little too vividly at the moment. I appreciate bekah’s problem, but I also find that associating something with illness makes it taste more like medicine. Too many medicines are too nice; a teary-eyed knee-chilling remedy is what’s called for this winter.

    October 31, 2008 at 03:14

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