Mother Earth is abundant with healing.
Our ancestors honored her magic, worshipping her through careful cultivation and foraging. Potions, recipes and cures traveled down from generation to generation, granting each child the gift of wholeness.
New Day members and allies hold some of this magic in their spirits. Caring mothers brewed it to relieve aching bodies, and grandmothers cooked it to soothe broken hearts. Today, consider incorporating their ancient bits of edible wisdom into your own self-care practice.
3 large cloves of garlic (or 1 teaspoon or garlic powder)
1 thumb sized chunk of ginger root (or 1 1/2 teaspoon of ginger powder)
1 small-medium yellow onion
2 chicken breasts
4 tablespoons of olive oil
10-12 cups of water (depending on how thick you want your soup)
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons fish sauce (substitute with 1 large chicken or veggie bouillon cube)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 cups white jasmine rice
Salt to taste
Optional: Some leafy greens, kale, spinach, things like that
- Peel and finely slice the garlic and ginger.
- Thinly slice the chicken.
- In a large pot on medium heat, add the olive oil, ginger, and garlic. Stir to coat everything.
- After garlic starts turning golden, add the chicken pieces. Cover the pot, and cook for about 8 minutes, stirring evening 2 minutes.
- Add 10-12 cups of water (10 cups will produce a more porridge like soup, where 12 will make it more broth-y). Turn stove to high heat. Add the back pepper, fish sauce, and soy sauce (or bouillon cube). Cover the pot.
- As soon as the water boils, turn heat to medium. Let simmer for another 7 minutes. Rinse the rice and add it slowly to the boiling broth. Stir every couple minutes. After 15 minutes, taste to see if it needs any additional salt and pepper. If you want to add leafy greens, I would add it in at the last 5 minutes.
- Garnish with sliced hardboiled eggs and sliced green onion if you would like!
Garlic, Lemon, Ginger and Honey Tea
Chop up a bit of raw garlic, lemon, and ginger, then add it to boiling water. Let it steep for three to five moments. Add honey to taste.
When I felt unwell as a child, my mom often brewed this simple mixture. She’d let me lay in her bed and would wrap me up in the covers, then place this warm cup of tea in my hands. “Blow on it before you drink it,” she’d say. She’d check my forehead with her cheek, then close the door and let me rest quietly in the big bed. I always felt so special in those moments. - David Leon Morgan