fire cider and friendship: the ritual of making time
I have a dear friend I only get to see once in a while. She doesn’t live far, but in the marathon of work and life and kids and schedules, we’re lucky if we manage it once or twice a year. When we do, the day feels golden.
making time
We’ve learned that it’s easier to make time if we’re working on something together—tackling a project that feels too big alone. This time she suggested making fire cider, and with cold and flu season around the corner, and my kids now in two different schools (which means twice the stream of viruses heading our way), it felt exactly right.
Fire cider, if you’ve never tried it, is a spicy herbal tonic steeped in apple cider vinegar. A daily shot is said to work wonders for the immune system, keeping colds and other seasonal bugs at bay.
the morning
We spent a bright September morning in my kitchen, sunlight slanting across the counters, gentle folk music humming in the background. It was a lot of prep—pounds of garlic, onions, lemons, and ginger, plus fresh horseradish and turmeric. I had never even seen fresh horseradish before, but of course my herbalist friend has a “horseradish guy.”
We started by grating, then switched to the food processor to make the work easier. The horseradish started stinging my eyes almost immediately, but nothing prepared me for the moment I opened the food processor and inhaled the first wave of its pungent vapors. I was coughing, laughing, shrieking all at once—an unexpected kitchen cleanse.
the flow
There was a rhythm to it all, the companionable flow of two people who have known each other for fifteen years, who have shared walls and dinners and heartbreaks, who have seen each other through the messiest chapters. We worked quietly for stretches, talking deeply in others, the kind of easy silences and conversations that feel like home.
never enough time
When the chopping and mixing were done, we filled the jars, topped them off with apple cider vinegar, and surveyed the mountain of dishes we had created. The spell of the morning broke as we glanced at the clock—much later than we’d realized—and hurried to pick up our kids, slipping back into the current of daily life.
Two mothers, two friends, who carved out a morning to connect, to catch up, and to create something that will keep our families well this winter.
The quiet magic of old friends, old remedies, and finding a way to meet each other in the middle of it all.
