Spice of Life Part V Allspice

Description:
Allspice, also known as Jamaican pepper, is the dried fruit of the Pimenta dioica plant. The fruit is harvested when it is green and unripe and traditionally dried in the sun. Once dry, the fruit is brown and looks like large brown peppercorns. It comes from the West Indies, southern Mexico, and Central America and can be found in both dried fruit form and as a powder.

It is a pungent, aromatic spice that seems to embrace a combination of nutmeg, cloves, ginger, and cinnamon. In fact, that’s how it got its name. Whether in kernel or powdered form, it should be stored in a cool, dry place.

Allspice is an essential ingredient in Jamaican jerk seasoning. It’s used to flavor stews, meat dishes, and tomato sauce. You can also find it in pickling spice, spiced tea mixes, cakes, cookies, and pies. Food producers use it in ketchup, pickles, and sausages. Many patés, terrines, smoked and canned meats include allspice.

History:
Allspice comes to us from the Caribbean. Christopher Columbus discovered it during his second voyage and, thinking it was pepper, named it pimiento (Spanish for pepper). It was introduced to Europe and the Mediterranean soon after, although it only became popular in England where it became known as allspice because it seemed to be a combination of spices.

Jamaican allspice is considered superior to any other, but today it is also grown in Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, Tonga, and Hawaii.

Medicinal Uses:
Allspice contains an oil called eugenol, which produces a warming effect. During the Napoleonic war, Russian soldiers would put allspice in their boots to keep their feet warm. As well as the warming effect, allspice also has a mild anesthetic, which makes it valuable as a home remedy for arthritis and sore muscles when used in a poultice. It can also be applied directly to the affected area for muscle pain and toothaches.

It has been used for indigestion, intestinal gas, abdominal pain, vomiting, diarrhea, fever, colds, high blood pressure, and diabetes. Allspice tea can be used to treat nausea or settle an upset stomach. Eating more allspice can be a low-risk treatment for easing the symptoms of menopause.


Recipes:

Wassail

Ingredients:
4 quarts apple cider
2 quarts orange juice
1 quart cranberry juice
2 cinnamon sticks
12 allspice (whole)
18 cloves (stuck into 1/2 a large orange)
1/2 cup(s) brown sugar (or to taste)

Instructions:
Bring all to a vigorous boil for 5 or so minutes then reduce to low simmer for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Sprinkle ground nutmeg and cinnamon on top of the finished Wassail. This is much better the next day when spices have blended and mellowed.


Jerk Chicken

Ingredients:
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup chopped scallion
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 small hot pepper, seeded, finely chopped
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces

Directions:
Combine all ingredients (except chicken) in a food processor, and process until a smooth puree forms.
Put chicken in a large bowl and pour marinade over. Stir chicken pieces to coat completely; cover and marinate at least 6 hours or up to overnight in the refrigerator.
Prepare a gas or charcoal grill on medium heat (350 F to 375 F) for direct/indirect grilling.
Remove chicken from jerk marinade. Place chicken skin-side down on the direct side of the grill.
Cover and cook for 15 minutes until the skin is charred and crisp, controlling any flare-ups on the grill. Turn the chicken over and move to the indirect side. Close the lid, and cook an additional 10 to 20 minutes, removing pieces as they become done.

Oven Method:
Jerk chicken is best done on the grill, but if this isn’t possible you can cook it in the oven (although the taste will be milder).
Prepare marinade and chicken as above.
Preheat oven to 350°F. Place chicken pieces in a rimmed baking pan, skin side up. Roast until chicken halves are cooked through, about 40-50 minutes.

Fear of Finishing

It’s the job that’s never started as takes longest to finish.
— J.R.R. Tolkien

Much of the stress that people feel doesn’t come from having too much to do. It comes from not finishing what they started.
— David Allen

Hello, my name is Carol and I have a problem finishing things.

I thought this was limited to finishing writing things – stories, poems, novels – but last week I found out differently. It was a dark and dismal day. My eyes were bugging me too much to spend it reading (like I normally would) and the writing wasn’t going well, so I decided to clean out my craft closet.

Trust me, this was not a project to be undertaken lightly, it’s a huge closet. One of the things I discovered (besides the fact that no matter how much stuff I get rid of it’s still a squeeze to put the rest back) was a bunch of unfinished craft projects. Stitchery, sewing, knitting, crocheting – dating back to anywhere from recent to before the dawn of time.

This is when the light bulb suddenly went off. Not finishing things is a more serious problem than I realized. Which begs the question, where does this fear of finishing come from?

On a whim, I did a Google search on “fear of finishing” and I was surprised to discover it really is a thing.

I went for years not finishing anything. Because, of course, when you finish something you can be judged… I had poems which were re-written so many times I suspect it was just a way of avoiding sending them out.
— Erica Jong.

In extreme cases, fear of finishing is called atychiphobia, which is a fear of failure. I’m not quite that bad, I’ve finished six books, a handful of stories, and many craft projects. But I found it interesting to learn that the fear of finishing is linked to anxiety and depression, which I do suffer from. It’s a type of loss, leaving something you’ve become attached to once you’re finished it. You own it while you’re doing it, but once it’s done it’s . . . done.

Fear of finishing manifests itself in self-doubt, procrastination, and perfectionism. I have to admit this applies to me in both the writing and the crafting. But the good news is these are things that can be overcome.

If you have a fear of finishing like me, here are some things you can try:
Make a list of projects and pick only one or two. The rest go on a “to do later” list.
Plan for finishing (but also plan for setbacks).
Break a project down into easy to reach stages.
Enlist a friend to help you with accountability – tell them about what you’re working on and have them bug you until you finish.

Despite it being a rather dark and dismal week weather-wise, I actually got some work done – be still my heart. Granted the new words were mostly on the blogs, but I did get all my posts done on time, and I did a short prompt story.

I’m about halfway through The Dressmakers of Auschwitz by Lucy Adlington. I was right about it being fascinating reading – it should be required reading in history classes of the holocaust. I’m also about halfway through another anthology by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, Teeth, which as you might guess is a collection of vampire stories.

The Week Ahead . . .

This week’s spice is allspice, which is not a blend as I’ve always assumed. You’ll have to check it out Wednesday to see what it is.

Well la di da! I took my own advice and went to town on Magical Mayhem, and edited 131 pages last week. That’s a third of the way done. Woot! Let’s see how I do this week.

I didn’t get a poem done for the poetry group meeting last week, but it was a zoom meeting anyway and I don’t zoom. I’m just not feeling the poetry but I’d better suck it up because Friday is the first Friday of the month, which means I need to do a poetry post.

I was going to say that I didn’t write every day but I did do something creative, but that’s not exactly true. There were times during the editing process where I had to re-write a passage, so I think that counts as writing every day. Goal met!

Let’s see how I do this week.

Desert of the Seven Realms

The third realm featured in the opening trilogy to my Seven Realms series is the Desert Realm. It also features the third of my trio of friends, Taylor. Sadly, Taylor has no last name and I don’t know much about her. She spends most of her story with amnesia. This is the opening of her story. It’s unedited, and I’ve already spotted a minor problem with it. LOL

The sound of a bird screeching brought Taylor awake with a start. She sat up cautiously, expecting a shaft of hangover pain, but nothing happened. Not that she was trying to borrow trouble, but if she drank enough wine that she passed out on some beach somewhere, why didn't she have a hangover? It was as puzzling as the fact she'd passed out in the first place. They'd only had two bottles of wine between the three of them.

"Somebody must have spiked one of those bottles," she said, getting to her feet. "It's the only possible--where the heck am I?"

With the sand beneath her she'd assumed she'd wandered onto the beach at the resort about half a mile from the cottage, but looking around all she could see was sand. There was no hotel, no water, no ... anything. Just sand.

Taylor sat down again. She must still be drunk. The nearest desert was hundreds of miles away. There was no way she could just magically appear in the middle of one.

Magic! What was it that little old lady they'd helped said? Something about being a fairy godmother and no one believing in such things any more.

There was more ... she remembered sitting by the fire, passing the bottle of wine around, and she'd been just about to get up to get the makings for some s'mores when Eva spotted the evening star.

When they saw the star they heard the old woman's voice again: "... whatever wish you make tonight upon that star will come true. But mind it's a personal wish, something frivolous that will benefit only you. None of that world peace nonsense. You will be touched by magic."

"Touched by magic," she repeated. They decided then and there to wish for their perfect mates. "No way!" she said, a little louder.

If there was one thing Taylor loved, it was old black and white movies, the older the better. And her absolute favourites were the silent movies. Douglas Fairbanks, Lillian Gish, Buster Keaton ... but the one she'd had the biggest crush on was Rudolph Valentino in The Sheik. So without even thinking about it, when it came time to make her wish she wished to be swept away by a desert prince.

"This can't be real," she said, getting to her feet for a better look around. There were no deserts in Canada, nothing even resembling a desert in the woods she had started out in. But there was no denying the fact that she was in the middle of an unknown desert. No sheik in sight, she was utterly alone.

It was colder than she expected, but she knew that wouldn't last for long once the sun rose. She needed to find shelter or she'd fry out here. Pivoting in a circle she was able to make out shadows in the landscape. Rocks maybe, or scrubby trees. As her eyes adjusted fully to the dark she spotted a faint glow in the distance. A town would be too much to hope for, but with any luck it would be a camp or an oasis with someone to help her.

Taylor thought she was in pretty good shape, but after what seemed like hours of slogging through the sand, having to compensate with the way it shifted beneath her feet, she was more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life. She was close enough to see the palm trees, a couple of tents pitched near the crumbled ruin of a wall, and a large fire, but her mouth was too dry from the desert air to call out.

Doggedly she kept moving forward until she reached the outer set of trees. Holding onto the nearest trunk for support, she studied the camp while mustering the energy for the last few steps. There was a group of seven individuals, dressed in white robes with red agals holding their keffiyehs in place, sitting close to the fire. They could have stepped right out of a Valentino movie, or maybe Lawrence of Arabia. She wasn't close enough to see their features clearly, but they seemed to pay special deference to the man in the middle - probably their leader.

Just as she was about step forward several more, similarly dressed men streamed into the firelight. The ones sitting around the fire jumped to their feet. Taylor could hear shouting, but wasn't close enough to understand what was being said. She didn't need to, to figure out what was going on. The six original men surrounded the seventh, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Curved knives, or maybe they were swords, flashed in the firelight and the seventh man was left standing alone.

Fist to her mouth to keep from crying out, Taylor sank into a crouch, making herself as small as possible as she pressed closer to the tree.

"Where is the stone, old man?" the leader of the invaders demanded.

The old man drew himself up proudly. "Where you will never find it. I have made my choice known to one and all. Not even this betrayal can change that."

"Don't be so sure," the man said, and then almost casually ran him through with his sword.

Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. She would never forget the sight of the sword being withdrawn from the old man, bright with his blood. When she could finally bring herself to open her eyes again, she looked around in shock. There was no trace of the invaders.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she got to her feet. No matter what else was going on, it didn't change the fact that she was in desperate need of water. And there was the clear outline of a well just beyond the old man's body.

She could do this. Her survival depended on it. She would go over to that well and have a good, long drink and when she recovered some of her strength she'd figure out a way to bury those poor men. Then she'd rest in one of the two tents and figure out things from there. It was a good plan, she was just having a hard time getting her feet to move.

"You can do this," she told herself, her voice sounding harsh to her ears.

Giving herself a shake, she forced herself to move towards the well, giving the bodies beside the fire a wide berth. Thank god someone had been careless and left a pail with a length of rope attached to it beside the well, otherwise she would have had no way of drawing water up. She dipped both hands into the pail and splashed her face, then cupped her hands to drink. Water had never tasted so good.

Taylor almost choked on a mouthful of water when a moan sounded behind her. She whirled, nearly losing the bucket. The moan sounded again.

"Oh my god!"

It was the old man. She went and knelt down beside him, afraid to touch him for fear of making things worse. His eyes opened; he seemed unsurprised to see her.

"What can I do?"

"You are the one," he whispered. "I have seen this ... too late."

"It's not too late," she said desperately. But there was a distinct odour in the air that told her the knife had sliced into his bowel. Even if she had some way of summoning help, it would not arrive in time.

"Tell him," he whispered.

"Tell who? That man who stabbed you?"

His hand shot up and gripped her wrist. "When you see him ... tell him that I was betrayed. The stone ... the stone is in the hands of the mother, covered by her tears."

Taylor tried to gently pry his hand off her wrist. "We need to get you some help. I--" She broke off what she was about to say as his hand suddenly went slack. A shiver went through her and she gently placed his hand on his chest.

There was a whisper of movement behind her, her only warning. As she started to turn, something struck her on the side of the head. There was a brilliant burst of pain and then everything went dark.

Spice of Life Part IV Nutmeg

Description:
Nutmeg comes to us from Indonesia, from the dried seeds of the Myristica fragrans, a tropical evergreen tree. It can be purchased whole or in powdered form. Grating the seed directly imparts a fresher, cleaner taste than the powder. Whole nutmeg will stay fresh indefinitely, but like the powder should be stored in an air-tight container away from heat, light, and moisture.

Nutmeg can be used in both sweet and savory dishes. It has a pungent aroma and a warm, slightly nutty, slightly sweet taste. It’s featured in many baked goods as well as puddings, potatoes, meats, sausages, sauces, vegetables, and such beverages as eggnog, coffee, and hot chocolate. Sprinkle it over oatmeal or other breakfast cereals, fruit, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, or winter squash.

History:
Evidence suggests that nutmeg was brought to Constantinople by Arab traders as early as the 6th century. The source of the spice, the Banda Islands, part of the Maluku Island chain, was a closely guarded secret.

In the late 1400s the Ottoman Turks took control of the land trade routes, which prompted several European countries to search for the source of the spice. The Portuguese discovered the Banda Islands in the early 1500s, torturing and killing the Bandalese in order to establish a monopoly.

The Dutch East India Company ousted the Portuguese in 1603, but the British managed to acquire seedlings and planted them in several British colonies in the East Indies. In the late 1700s the French smuggled nutmeg seedlings to their colony on Mauritius where they flourished, breaking the Dutch monopoly for good.

Medicinal Uses:
Nutmeg contains powerful antioxidants, and as such has anti-inflammatory properties which help protect against heart disease, diabetes, and arthritis. It has also been shown to have antibacterial properties that can inhibit the growth of harmful bacterial infections, including cavities and gum inflammation.

Precautions:
While nutmeg in small quantities is not only flavorful but beneficial to your health, taken in large doses it can have several adverse side effects – rapid heartbeat, nausea, disorientation, vomiting, and agitation. Taken in large quantities, one of its early uses was as a hallucinogen, but this can also be accompanied by loss of muscle coordination and organ failure.


Recipes:

Butterbeer

Ingredients:
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons butterscotch sauce
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
6 (12-ounce) cans vanilla cream soda, or one 2-liter bottle

Directions:
In a small bowl, combine the cream, spices, butterscotch, and softened butter.
Whisk for 2 minutes to mix. Avoid whipping it so long that it becomes whipped cream, but it should thicken and increase in volume slightly.
Place the bowl in the freezer for 15 minutes to give it a good chill. If not using immediately, cover the bowl and store in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.

Assembling:
Fill a frosty glass about two-thirds full with cold vanilla cream soda.
Pour the chilled batter over the back of a spoon and into the glass. It will naturally rise to the top and float on the soda. Make this layer as thick as you like, but go slow because it will grow fast. Serve it with a straw or drink it straight from the glass (and experience the foamy mustache).

You want a frosty mug or tall glass for your butterbeer. For a quick chill, rinse each glass with cold water and place them in the coldest part of your freezer for at least 2 hours.


Nutmeg Cake

Ingredients:
3 eggs, room temperature
½ cup butter, softened
1 ½ cups white sugar
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon salt
Caramel Icing:
½ cup packed brown sugar
3 tablespoons cream
¼ cup butter
1 ½ cups confectioners' sugar

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease two 9-inch round cake pans.
Beat the butter and white sugar with an electric mixer in a large bowl until light and fluffy. The mixture should be noticeably lighter in color. Add the room-temperature eggs in three batches, blending them into the butter mixture fully. Stir in the vanilla.
Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, and salt.
Pour 1/3 of the flour mixture into the bowl; mix just until incorporated. Stir in 1/2 the buttermilk, mixing gently. Continue adding the flour alternately with the buttermilk, mixing until combined. Spread the batter into the prepared pans.
Bake in the preheated oven until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cakes comes out clean, about 25 to 30 minutes. Let the cakes cool in the pans for 10 minutes, then invert them on a wire rack to cool completely before icing.

Caramel Icing: In a medium saucepan, heat the brown sugar, cream or milk, and 1/4 cup butter until it boils. Boil for 2 minutes, then remove from heat. Let cool. Stir in confectioner's sugar and beat until smooth. Add more cream or milk or confectioner's sugar as needed to achieve desired spreading consistency. Makes about 1 1/3 cups.

That Time of Year

Organizing is what you do before you do something, so that when you do it, it is not all mixed up.
— A. A. Milne

The trouble with organizing a thing is that pretty soon folks get to paying more attention to the organization than to what they’re organized for.
— Laura Ingalls Wilder

Yup, it’s that time of year again, when thoughts turn to getting my crap organized. And by crap I mean my electronic files. You know, the ones that are spread out amongst several USB sticks and my computer and I think an SD card.

Oiy!

Is there such a thing as being too organized? I’m beginning to think so.

The problem, I’ve found, with getting all my files organized, is that you have to keep up with it. Some time last year(?) I went through all my text files, got rid of a bunch of duplicates, and patted myself on the back for a job well done. I had photos saved to one place, various text files to another, and de-cluttered the desktop of my computer.

Except . . .

I’d upload pictures from my camera to my computer and instead of taking the time and trouble to sort them and save them to wherever it was I’d saved my photos to, I’d stick them in folders on my computer.

And yes, I kept my writing files organized (more or less) on the computer, but I’d forget to update them wherever it was I saved them to. And my poetry files . . . well, frankly they’re a mess again. One of the problems with my poetry is that I never think to put dates on it, especially my early stuff. I’ve gotten better over the last five years or so and started to create a folder for each year. So at least my newer stuff is a little bit organized.

At one point I created a folder on my desktop called “filing.” This is where I’d stick anything that needed to be filed on one of the USB keys I’d used to organize all my files. The idea was, every once in awhile I’d move files from this folder onto their appropriate key to stay, well, organized. Only I didn’t. Just like I didn’t back up any of my text files.

What brought this all to a head was when I decided to move the folders I have on my old lap top over to my new lap top. My method for doing this is simple – copy to a USB stick, then copy onto the new lap top.

Everything was going smoothly. I used the key with the most storage (32G), saved half my folders, then started to save the other half. Only it said I didn’t have enough space. Say what? So I checked the size of a couple of the folders, figuring maybe the folder I kept my background pictures in was too big. Nope. It was only 1G in size. Maybe my miscellaneous files? Nope, it was only 2G. The rest were mostly text files.

Then I checked my “filing” folder. Oops! It was 25G in size, mostly photographs. Apparently I take a lot of pictures. The good news was, although I didn’t file them on my USB key(s), they’re at least organized by year and sometimes subject matter. But still, they ended up on a USB key of their own.

So now I have stuff on the old computer, the same stuff spread out over three USB keys, and some of the stuff on my new computer. Not to mention the various USB keys from my previous organization attempts. I’m starting to think the problem isn’t so much my organization system, as it is the fact I spread it out so much and I don’t keep it up – i.e. update my external files.

One of these days I’ll figure out a way to get and stay organized. I’ll let you know when I do.

Meanwhile, this week was pretty much a bust as far as writing or editing goes. The spirit was willing but the head kept getting distracted. I did finish that free course on “show don’t tell” and while I found it interesting, if not helpful, it didn’t really help motivate me. The sad part is, I have these stories in my head, I just can’t get them out.

I finished reading The Coyote Road, Trickster Tales, by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling and I really enjoyed it. All the stories were wonderful, but I think my favourite would have to be the last one, The Evolution of Trickster Stories Among the Dogs of North Park After the Change by Kij Johnson. I advise you to check out her author’s site at Kij Johnson. Her writing link includes so free stories so you can check out her work.

Next up for reading is The Dressmakers of Auschwitz by Lucy Adlington. It’s a bit of a departure for me, reading-wise, but it looks fascinating.

The Week Ahead . . .

I’m actually having fun with my non-fiction Spice series, and I already know what my next two spices will be which will tie into the first post in October. I’m not trying to be mysterious about it, honestly! Maybe you’ll figure out what October’s post will be after you’ve read the next two.

A serious application of BICFOK (butt in chair, fingers on keyboard) is needed in regards to Magical Mayhem. I started writing it for my 2013 NaNo, that was EIGHT years ago! Granted it took probably another couple of years to finish writing it, but still, that’s way too long. Time to be done with it.

All the determination in the world doesn’t mean squat if you don’t actually apply yourself, so this week my main goal will be to write every day. Could be a prompt, could be that last scene from The Perfect Match – just so long as I write something. Anything.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Forest of the Seven Realms

The second in the three part beginning to my Seven Realms series takes place in the Forest Realm (as you may have surmised from the title of this post). This story centers around Fiona (no last name as yet). Fiona has a degenerative eye condition and has known all her life she’ll someday lose her sight, but it’s a progressive thing and is supposed to happen gradually.

Fiona could hear birds chirping. She opened her eyes, frowning when she realized it was still dark out. Blinking rapidly she sat up, feeling around for her glasses. She could feel dirt and leaves and small sticks, but no glasses. They were heavy enough that she'd know if she was wearing them. God, she hoped she hadn't lost them, they were expensive as hell.

The last thing she remembered was sharing a bottle of wine around the camp fire with her friends. Or was it two bottles of wine? It certainly wasn't enough alcohol to cause her to wander off by herself into the woods. She was more careful than that.

Wait, there was something else ... that old woman they helped earlier in the day. What was her name? Estella? Esperanza? No ... Esmeralda, that was it!

They saw a falling star and for some weird reason they could hear the old woman's voice. Something about being given a wish to use on a star ... "To reward your kindness I promise you this: whatever wish you make tonight upon that star will come true. But mind it's a personal wish, something frivolous that will benefit only you. None of that world peace nonsense."

After hearing Esmeralda's voice the three of them had laughed it off, deciding to wish for their dream lovers to come to life, or some such rubbish. Fiona didn't know what the others wished for, but she'd always had a thing for the elves in The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings movies, so it seemed only natural to wish for an adventure to help a dispossessed Elfin lord who would fall madly in love with her.

Fiona snorted. "As if."

The birds continued to chirp and she could hear a breeze rustling the leaves above her. She tilted her head back to look up and listen. How deep into the woods had she traveled? Surely she should see at least a hint of the stars or moonlight. Why was the dark so all encompassing?

Squelching down a sudden frisson of panic, she got to her feet. It was just clouds, she told herself firmly. There was a storm front moving in, that's all. Dark, heavy clouds were obscuring the moon and stars. It happened all the time.

Then why were the birds singing, a niggling little voice asked her. And where was there no smell of moisture in the air?

"Taylor? Eva?" she called, ignoring the voice. If she was out here then her friends couldn't be too far away. "Guys? I hope one of you has a flashlight, it's dark as hell over here. Wherever here is. Guys?"

All at once she remembered her watch. Raising her wrist to eye level, she pressed the little button that would activate the light. Nothing happened. Holding the watch to her ear, she listened to the faint ticking and then tried again. Still nothing.

"Guys? I'm in real trouble here."

Fiona shivered, despite the warm breeze. This time she was unable ignore the panic starting. Hands held out in front of her, she shuffled forward a few steps, stopping dead when she felt the sun on her face.

"No," she whispered. "It's too soon. I'm not ready."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Finnovarr paused to get his bearings. This is what came of taking a shortcut. First he lost his horse, and now ... it was a shameful thing for an elf to admit, but he appeared to be lost. Somehow he'd left the narrow trail he'd been following and now he had two choices: continue in the direction he was going and hope he picked up the trail again, or retrace his path back the way he'd come.

Having no idea how far back he'd wandered from the trail, retracing his path was out of the question. He'd already been out here too long, he couldn't afford the time. As long as he kept heading east, he should still be able to find the shrine in time.

A flash of blue caught his eye and he frowned. Too big for a bird, but what else could it be? He became more cautious, keeping watch for anything untoward. Then he scented it.

Finn's head snapped up and went on full alert. Magic. He could smell it on the air. Why would he be smelling magic out here?

He found out a few feet later when he stepped into a clear space in the trees. There, in a shaft of sunlight, a woman slumped next to a tree.

Her long curly hair shone with a fiery glow in the sunlight. The style of her clothing was strange, dark blue trousers and a brighter blue, the blue he'd glimpsed through the trees, strangely designed tunic that clung to her like a second skin. She reeked of magic but it was fading.

He stood in the shadows provided by the trees, watching her. She appeared to be asleep or perhaps passed out from exhaustion; there were traces of tears on her cheeks.

Whatever trouble she was in, he couldn't afford to get involved. He was on a mission; he didn't have time. And yet he lingered, unable to just leave her there.

Spice of Life Part III Ginger

Description:
Ginger got its name from the Sanskrit word srngaveram, which is a description of the root meaning “horn body.” Ginger grows best in warm, humid climates. Mature plants are typically 2 to 3 feet high with long spikey leaves and yellow flowers. Harvesting is done by simply lifting the rhizomes from the soil. The rhizomes vary in colour from dark yellow to light brown.

Ginger has a slightly biting, peppery taste. It can be used in both sweet and savoury dishes. It’s used in curries, baking, sauces, breads, drinks, and soups, and is excellent in meat, vegetable, fish, and poultry dishes.

Fresh ginger can be substituted for ground ginger at a ratio of six to one, but the flavours differ slightly. Ginger comes fresh, dried, pickled, preserved is syrup, and crystallized. Fresh it can be chopped, sliced, crushed, or cut into matchsticks. Powdered ginger is typically used in baking.

History:
Ginger has been cultivated in tropical Asia for over 3,000 years. Although its exact origins are unknown. it’s believed to have originated in Southeast Asia and was one of the earliest spices to be exported to Europe. It was valued for its medicinal properties as much as for its culinary purposes in China, Ancient Greece and Rome, the Middle East, and the Mediterranean.

The Spanish took it with them to the West Indies where they established a flourishing ginger trade between Jamaica (under Spanish rule) and Europe. Both raw and preserved ginger was a big import into Europe during the Middle Ages. By the 14th century, a pound of ginger cost the same as a sheep in England.

Today, India is the largest producer of ginger.

Medicinal Uses:
Ginger has been used in folk medicine since ancient times. Sweetened with palm tree juice, it was used in Burma to prevent the flu. In Japan it was used to help the circulation of blood. In India it was made into a paste and applied to the temples to relieve a headache

In more modern usage, the most common medicinal use for ginger is to relieve nausea and vomiting. This includes everything from morning sickness to sea sickness. It also has anti-inflammatory properties that are effective for pain relief and reducing swelling and discomfort from osteoarthritis and rheumatism. A little ginger can help alleviate a unsettled stomach when you’ve overindulged. It’s also effective to combat a cold or flu because it’s a natural diaphoretic, which means it will make you sweat. Some studies also indicate it might be effective in lowering glucose levels in Type II Diabetes and encourage weight loss.

But although it’s recognized as safe, ginger can also have several adverse effects. If you find you’re allergic to it you might end up with a rash. It can also cause heartburn, especially if it’s taken in powdered form. It can also adversely affect people with gallstones and interfere with blood thinners.


Recipes:

Ginger Hot Toddy

Ingredients:
2 cups water
1 1/2-inch piece ginger root, thinly sliced
4 cloves
1 lemon, halved
4 tbsp honey or maple syrup
2 ounces rum or whiskey
Lemon slices, as garnish

Instructions:
In a medium saucepan, add water, ginger root slices and cloves. Squeeze lemon juice into the saucepan, adding lemon halves into the liquid. Bring to a boil over high heat, and then reduce to medium heat for a gentle boil. Cook for 10 to 20 minutes. Strain into two mugs; add 2 tbsp honey or maple syrup and 1 ounce rum or whiskey to each mug. Garnish with lemon slices and serve.


Old Fashioned Gingerbread

Ingredients:
2 cups flour
1 ½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ tsp cloves
½ cup soft butter
¾ cup molasses
1 egg
1 cup boiling water

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350 F
Grease and flour a 9 by 5 loaf pan (or line the pan with parchment paper.) *
Sift together dry ingredients in a large bowl.
Add the butter, molasses and egg and beat for two minutes
Add the boiling water.
Beat for another two minutes and turn into prepared pan.
Bake 50-55 minutes, or until loaf springs back when lightly touched.

*Add some extra sugar and spice to the flour before sprinkling it in the greased pan to give the bread a little extra flavour.

Here's An Idea . . .

The irritating question they ask us -- us being writers -- is: "Where do you get your ideas?" And the answer is: Confluence. Things come together. The right ingredients and suddenly: Abracadabra!
― Neil Gaiman, Smoke and Mirrors: Short Fiction and Illusions

I always had plenty of ideas. I didn’t exactly have them. They grew—little by little, a half an idea at a time. First, part of a phrase and then a person to go with it. After a person, then a little corner of a place for the person to be in.
― Carol Emshwiller

I know it’s early yet, but with the weather starting to cool off my thoughts have been drifting towards November and NaNoWriMo. Normally I wait until closer to the start before I begin to waffle – should I/shouldn’t I – but I decided to skip that part this year. We all know I’m going to do it, if only because I don’t want to break my winning streak.

So . . . wanting to be prepared I started considering what to work on. Only the idea well seems to have run dry. I don’t really want to do a sequel to one of the books I’ve already done (or started and didn’t finish), but when I started thinking about something new my mind was a dust bowl. We’re talking complete with tumbleweeds.

I briefly considered doing a 1667 word flash a day thing, but I’m not sure I could keep up the momentum. Then I considered the idea I had a couple of years ago for a themed anthology, there’s enough time to do the research that put me off before, but again, I’d need to do a story a day to complete it.

Then I started kicking around a themed anthology idea revolving around flowers . . . That might be doable. I could get my research done ahead of time, maybe even jot down an idea or two about each story. The stories could be as long or as short as I like. Hmm. That might be doable.

Or I might just write the beginning story of Kiranthus (from The Moonstone Chronicles). Lord knows I have enough notes about him. And I know the story pretty well. When I first conceived the idea for the Chronicles, there were going to be 9 books in total – three about Kiranthus, three about Jessica, and the final three about what came after. I don’t think Kiranthus needs three whole books, and I’m wrapping this up nicely in Blood Ties so there’s not going to be much to add afterwards. So a book about Kiranthus just might fly.

It’s nice to know there's still a trickle of water at the bottom of the well. :-)

Unfortunately, I’m still not getting much writing done, other than my blog posts. I didn’t even dabble in poetry last week, although I did make a few entries in my writing journal. But I did make myself a handy dandy chart to keep track of my weekly words. You know, when I actually have some.

I didn’t get much editing on Blood Ties either. I don’t really know where my week went – it’s not like I had anything special going on. I did start doing a free course on “show, don’t tell” that I found on-line to try and encourage me to do other writing but so far although I’m learning stuff, I don’t feel any more motivated to getting back at the writing.

Reading wise I’m still reading The Coyote Road, by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling and I’m really enjoying it. I’ve been alternating it with a couple of writing books, again, to encourage me to actually write. So far I’m still resisting.

The Week Ahead . . .

While last week’s episode of my non-fiction series wasn’t any easier to write, it wasn’t as stressful because I started it earlier. I need to keep doing that.

I really need to quite dicking around and get back to the edits on Blood Ties. Which I’m renaming again – Blood Ties is now going to be Magical Mayhem. It makes better sense and it ties in with the first book in the series.

I’m also determined to start writing every day – a one word prompt, a flash prompt, the scene I need to finish the book I’m taking with me to the retreat, it doesn’t matter as long as I write something.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Jungle of the Seven Realms

A couple of weeks ago I shared the prologue to my Seven Realms trilogy. When I actually get down to brass tacks with this series, I will be running the prologue in each of the first three books, rewriting it slightly to focus on the main character’s viewpoint. For the rest of the series (seven realms, seven stories) I’ll have to come up with something else, just to keep the continuity.

In any case, this scene takes place right after the prologue from a couple of weeks ago.

Evangeline Covington couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a wicked hangover. She groaned, but didn't feel up to opening her eyes yet. It wasn't like they'd had that much to drink last night, two bottles of wine between the three of them - she must be getting old.

She felt damp. There was something digging into her back and the distinct smell of greenery in the air. She had a sneaking suspicion of where she was. Cracking her eyes open slightly, she slammed them tightly shut again, her suspicions confirmed. They hadn't made it back to the cabin last night - she'd slept outside.

"Fi? Taylor? You guys awake?" Even the sound of her own voice made her wince.

There was no answer. With another groan she rolled to her side so the sun wasn't in her face and tried opening her eyes again.

Frowning, she stared at the bright red flower in front of her nose. She didn't remember there being flowers blooming in the woods, especially not such exotic looking ones. Feeling a slight chill, she levered herself into a sitting position and took a good look around.

"What the hell?"

Hangover forgotten, Eva got to her feet and stared around in disbelief. This was not the woods full of pine trees surrounding the cabin on the lake. In fact, this wasn't a forest at all, it was more like a jungle.

Several different varieties of palm and other exotic trees towered upwards, hung with trailing vines. The undergrowth seemed to be filled with broad-leafed shrubs and ferns. An endless variety of colorful blossoms rioted around her.

Eva staggered, reaching out to steady herself by holding on to the trunk of a palm.

"Where am I?" she whispered.

More importantly, how did she get here? The last thing she remembered was sitting around the camp fire with Fiona and Taylor. They were drinking wine and made a toast to friendship. Then she'd spotted the evening star and . . .

"Esmeralda!"

She remembered hearing the old woman's voice, something about making a wish. They'd treated it like a joke and decided to wish for their perfect mate.

All her life Eva had loved adventure stories, especially ones set in exotic locations. Her favorites were by the old romantic fantasy writers - H. Rider Haggard, Edgar Rice Burroughs, A. A. Merritt - with their tales of lost cities set in the jungles of the world. In her deepest fantasies, ones she'd never shared with even Fiona or Taylor, she'd dreamed of being swept away by her very own jungle lord.

"This is crazy!" she said firmly. "Hello? Anyone?"

People didn't just wish for something like that and have it happen. Someone was playing a joke on her. A very bad, practical joke. There must have been something in the wine that knocked her out so someone, or a couple of someones, could transport her to the nearest zoo and leave her in the middle of the African exhibit.

Eva leaned against the palm tree for support. Which was just as likely as being transported to an actual jungle. What else had Esmeralda told them?

"I'm a fairy godmother, but no one believes in magic anymore, more's the pity."

"Magic," Eva repeated, trying the word on for size. Esmeralda was right. People didn't believe in magic any more. Maybe if they did she wouldn't have such a hard time believing in it now.

A cool breeze swept through the jungle and she shivered, her damp clothing amplifying the chill. The tops of the trees were starting to wave and when she looked up she caught a glimpse of dark clouds building.

"This is so not fair!"

She needed shelter from the oncoming storm and fast, judging by the smell of rain in the air. With any luck she could curl up and go to sleep, awakening to find this was nothing more than an alcohol induced, very vivid, dream.

"Focus Eva, shelter first and then worry about everything else."

But shelter where? She looked around once more but nothing seemed promising. If this were a story she'd be able to just shimmy up one of the trees to see if there were a house or town nearby. Heck, at this point she'd even take a thatched native hut, shelter was shelter. But this wasn't a story. There was no way she'd be able to climb one of those smooth barked trees and in any case, the sun that had awoken her was being devoured by fast moving dark clouds.

There was a path in front of her - it must lead to somewhere - and she began to jog along it. The storm was coming parallel to it; she didn't even know whether the path was north/south or east/west. She just prayed it would lead to shelter.

Eva felt very tiny as tried to keep the path in sight - everything was so big here! The trees, the ferns, the flowers, she had no idea things grew so big in the jungle. Or maybe this was a rainforest. To her chagrin, she really didn't know what the difference was.

The palm trees thinned out a bit, giving way to a wider assortment of trees, most hung with vines. They were bigger than anything she'd ever seen before and even bigger were some kind of rough barked trees with enormous roots that humped out of the ground around them.

The wind was whipping the brush around her into a frenzy and it grew darker still. Eva could barely see where she was going, unaware that she'd left the meagre trail. Stumbling over one of the massive roots, she lay where she'd fallen, trying to catch her breath, and then crawled forward into the darker patch of blackness near the trunk.

She found herself in a hollow in the tree, large enough that she could curl up in it easily just as the first fat drops of rain began pelting down. There was a carpet of dead leaves beneath her, and debris that she was just as happy she couldn't make out in the dark. Obviously some kind of animal had used this hidey hole in the past - she counted herself lucky that she hadn't run into whatever it was.

The rain poured down steadily, but without any accompanying thunder and lightning. She was safe and dry inside the hollow tree, though a trifle chilled. The sweater she'd brought down to the campfire was presumably still draped on the back of her chair and though her jeans were adequate protection for her lower half, the sleeveless silk blouse, while a beautiful shade of red did very little to keep her upper half warm.

Eva wrapped her hands around her knees, shivering in the dark. Reality settled in like a heavy weight around her shoulders. She'd been left in the middle of nowhere with no food, no water, and no idea which way civilization was. This wasn't an adventure, it was a nightmare.

Soothed by the sound of the rain, mentally and emotionally exhausted, Eva slept.

Spice of Life Part II Cinnamon

Description:
This delicately fragrant, brown spice has a warm, sweet flavour. Cinnamon is native to Sri Lanka, Burma, and the Malabar Coast of India, and is also grown in South America and the West Indies. It comes from the inner bark of the Cinnamomum tree. The outer bark of the tree is peeled away from the branches and the inner bark is rolled into quills, about one inch in diameter.

It comes to us dried, either rolled into sticks or ground into powder and is best kept in an airtight container in a cool, dark place. In Europe it’s mainly used in sweets, and in the Middle East it’s used in meat stews, especially those made with lamb.

It’s used in cakes, puddings, cookies, and bread, and can also added to meat and game stews, vegetables, stewed fruit, and curries. It can be sprinkled in coffee or tea and is delicious in hot chocolate.

History:
Cinnamon is one of the oldest known spices, dating back as far as Ancient Egypt where it was used in embalming and religious ceremonies. It was brought to Europe by Arab traders who kept their source a secret in order to protect their control over it. Because cinnamon was transported via land routes that were difficult to traverse, it was very expensive. Its high cost made it into a status symbol in Europe. Along with being a sign of wealth, cinnamon was also popular because of its ability to preserve meat in the winter.

It was the most profitable spice in the Dutch East India Company trade, so much so that in the 17th century they seized the island of Ceylon from the Portuguese and then arranged to have the cinnamon sources along the coast of India destroyed so they could keep a monopoly on it. The French later seized Ceylon from the Dutch, then England seized it from the French. At that point other countries found it could be easily grown in other tropical climates, thus breaking the monopoly.

Medicinal Uses:
Medieval physicians used cinnamon in medicines to treat coughing, hoarseness, and sore throats.

Cinnamon is rich in antioxidants, which have anti-inflammatory properties that help protect against disease. Its pre-biotic properties promote gut health and help fight bacterial and fungal infections. There is some evidence that suggests it can help lower blood pressure, and it has proven effective in lowering blood sugar levels in type 2 diabetes.

Recipes:

Mexican Hot Cocoa

Ingredients:
1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (plus more for garnish)
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 pinch cayenne pepper
3 cups milk
2 tablespoons honey
1 finely grated orange zest
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon honey

Directions:
In a medium saucepan, whisk together cocoa powder, cinnamon, salt, and cayenne. Whisking constantly, add milk in a thin stream until combined. Whisk in honey and orange zest.
Heat over medium, whisking occasionally, until mixture is steaming and bubbles start to appear on the sides of the pan. Remove from the heat and whisk in vanilla.
In a medium bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk, beat cream and on medium speed until cream is softly whipped.
To serve, divide cocoa between 4 mugs, top each with 1 tablespoon whipped cream, and sprinkle with cinnamon.


Cinnamon Chicken

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups dry sherry
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup honey
1/4 cup lemon juice
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 frying chicken, 2 1/2 to 3 pounds, cut into pieces
2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Directions:
First make marinade.
In a medium size bowl, mix the dry sherry, cinnamon, honey, lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper. Add the chicken and toss to a evenly coat. Cover and marinate in the refrigerator 8 hours, or overnight.

To cook, preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Remove the chicken, shaking off excess marinade. Pour the marinade into a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Boil until it begins to thicken and about 1 cup remains, 5 to 10 minutes.
Heat the oil in an ovenproof skillet over medium high heat. Sear the chicken until golden on both sides. Pour the reduced marinade over the chicken and place in the oven.
Bake about 20 minutes and serve.

Readin’ and Writin’

I have advice for people who want to write. I don't care whether they're 5 or 500. There are three things that are important: First, if you want to write, you need to keep an honest, unpublishable journal that nobody reads, nobody but you. Where you just put down what you think about life, what you think about things, what you think is fair and what you think is unfair. And second, you need to read. You can't be a writer if you're not a reader. It's the great writers who teach us how to write. The third thing is to write. Just write a little bit every day. Even if it's for only half an hour — write, write, write.
― Madeleine L'Engle

Madeleine’s advice seems simple enough. I do keep a journal, in fact I keep two of them. One of them is for everyday stuff, mainly used as a letter writing source. The other one is my writing journal which I use to jot down interesting quotes, ideas, poems, rants, and honest accounts of how the writing’s going (or not going).

Reading – well, we all know that’s not a problem for me.

Which brings us to writing a little bit every day. *sigh*

Well . . . I’m getting better, but I’m not at the “every day” part yet. I’m still struggling a bit with my focus – I get distracted easily and this week was full of distractions.

I had a visit from my niece and great-niece, stopping here for lunch as they drove from Hamilton to Ottawa where the great-niece is going to be starting a writing course at Algonquin College. I have to admit, I’m pretty envious. Not only of the course (which I looked up online) but the fact the great-niece gets to live in one of the most beautiful cities in Canada.

But the visit did have the positive effect of making me want to do more than sit around reading Nora Roberts books all day. Until . . .

My new lap top was delivered later that same day. It’s small, it’s light, and totally intimidating. I waited until the following day until unpacking it, and then waited some more before hooking it up and turning it on. Then I spent a couple of frustrating hours jumping through Microsoft hoops to get just the basics set up.

Yes, I know I would have had to go through the same thing no matter what lap top I got, but that doesn’t make it less frustrating. I never did get the fingerprint scanner to set up, so I still have that battle to fight. And I sprang for the Microsoft Home and Office 2019 (I’ve been using Office 2007) which I realize was a mistake. I paid for the full version, which I’m assuming came pre-loaded, but without the access key I won’t be able to install it on any other computer. And yes, it’s totally different from Office 2007 so there’s another distraction – learning to use my new software.

Other distractions this week included a morning at Jungle Cat World with the daughter and granddaughter, followed by an afternoon of back-to-school shopping (always a good time) followed by a visit the next day by a bunch of the hubby’s family from Ottawa. Any excuse to have a sausage barbeque is a good one. :-)

Still and all, I did get my blog posts done this week, including the first post in my new non-fiction series. I worked for a week on that post, and then the night before I was to post it I realized I was writing about an herb, not a spice. So it was back to my big book of herbs and spices to pick a new one.

The first post in a series is always the hardest because you have to work out a format that the rest of your posts will follow. But the nice part is, I know what the next series will be about. LOL

No editing done on Blood Ties last week – too many distractions I guess. But I am kicking around the idea for a new, better title. It started out as Wandering Wizards, which made it sound like my characters were wandering around without a purpose, which they weren’t. Blood Ties doesn’t really cut it for me either, so I’m going to think about the new title I’ve come up with before announcing it.

Reading wise I zipped through those Nora Roberts books I found (they were some of her early works which were much shorter) and now I’m reading The Coyote Road, which is an anthology of trickster tales gathered by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling. I have another in this series The Faery Reel, but I haven’t been able to find a copy of the third in the series, The Green Man.

The Week Ahead . . .

My new non-fiction series is off to a great start and I want to keep up the momentum. So this week’s goal is to get my post done earlier.

Since I got no editing done on Blood Ties last week, I really need to buckle down this week. And I’ll probably be doing it on my old computer until I get used to the new version of Word on the new computer.

If I get tired of editing, I still need to get that last scene written for the book I’m taking with me to the retreat, which is coming up fast. And if I’m going to follow Madeleine’s advice and write every day, there are many prompts out there just begging for stories.

So . . . what’s will you be doing this week?

Inspiration

You never know where inspiration might strike you. Each month my poetry group is given an optional, usually inspiring, “poemwork” assignment. For August the assignment was to write a mandala poem. Naturally, the first thing I did was some research on mandalas. Holy smokes was there ever a lot of it!

The accumulation of this research was followed by a day when the humidity let up enough for it to be comfortable sitting out on the deck. And as I was sitting there trying to absorb all this information, I watched the birds at the feeder and a whole other poem came to me:


Bird Watching

The grackles emptied my feeder again
but the others still come.
First is a pair of sparrows –
so small, so sweet, so loud!
A female cardinal sits on the fence, chirping
working up the courage to check out what’s left.
She flies away again, unimpressed.
A young mourning dove lights on the fence
trying to look inconspicuous.
He’s joined by a jay,
who boldly announces his presence
but stays in the shelter of the brush.
Two larger mourning doves land on the patio
and get to work amongst the detritus left behind.
Incensed, the young one swoops down
to chase the larger of the two off.
Unconcerned, the second one keeps pecking away.
It’s slim pickings
the grackles are nothing if not thorough.
The remaining mourning dove finally gives up
and flies away.
I wish I could fly with them.


A unique idea came to me for my mandala poem – I’d use all this information I gathered and do a black out poem. A black out poem is when a poet takes a black marker to a page of text (usually non-fiction) and starts covering over everything but the few key words/phrases that make their poem. The scan of my poem is below (you can click on it to make it bigger), and because I did such a poor job of blacking out the surrounding text, I’ve included the straight text version below that.

adherence to the cycle of rebirth and death
encouraged true knowledge.
understanding came up through the present
to elevate the mind.
a spiritual shift encouraged the Hindu vision.
people could not understand objections to this practice.
those who rejected the mandala insisted on establishing
the materialistic truth of one’s own pleasure.
enlightened souls freed themselves;
people suffered in a world of constant change.
shedding one’s ignorance, the soul suffers.
Mandalas journey from illusion to enlightenment.
toward the end
I gradually began to emerge from the darkness.

Spice of Life Part ITurmeric

Description:
This brilliant golden yellow spice, also known as Indian Saffron, is available in fresh, dried, or powdered form.

It adds a mild aroma and distinctive yellow colour to foods. It has a warm, slightly bitter taste like black pepper and is most often used to flavour or colour mustards, butters, and cheeses. A member of the ginger family, turmeric comes from the underground rhizome of the plant and is essential to curry powder.

Turmeric can be used to enhance many foods such as pilafs, poultry, fish, pickles, chutneys, deviled eggs, bean and lentil dishes, and vegetable dishes, especially cauliflower and potatoes. It also makes a flavourful tea or latte.

History:
It was first used in Southeast Asia as a dye to colour the robes of monks and priests yellow. The use of turmeric as a culinary spice dates back almost 4,000 years to India, where it also had some religious significance. It spread to China, Africa, and Jamaica, and Marco Polo described it as exhibiting qualities similar to saffron. It has a long history of medicinal use in South Asia, and is believed to be one of the ancient Persian yellow spices associated with sun worship.

Medicinal Uses:
In the last few years turmeric, or more precisely its main component curcumin, has been gaining popularity for its medicinal benefits.

Curcumin is known for its powerful anti-inflammatory properties and is often used to relieve osteoarthritis. It’s also an effective aid in the treatment of depression, type 2 diabetes, lowering cholesterol, and relieving PMS symptoms. It has been used in headache treatment, especially for migraines, and one study has shown it can help ward off heart attacks in those who’ve had bypass surgery. Turmeric tea can also help ward off a variety of viruses, including the flu and COVID-19

Recipes:

Golden Milk Turmeric Tea
(for health benefits)

Ingredients:
1 cup unsweetened non-dairy milk, preferably coconut milk beverage or almond milk
1 (3-inch) cinnamon stick
1 (1-inch) piece turmeric, unpeeled, thinly sliced, or 1/2 teaspoon dried turmeric
1 (1/2-inch) piece ginger, unpeeled, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon virgin coconut oil
1/4 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
Ground cinnamon (for serving)

Directions:
Whisk coconut milk, cinnamon, turmeric, ginger, honey, coconut oil, peppercorns, and 1 cup water in a small saucepan; bring to a low boil. Reduce heat and simmer until flavours have melded, about 10 minutes. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into mugs and top with a dash of cinnamon.

Golden milk can be made 5 days ahead. Store in an airtight container and chill. Warm before serving.


Spiced Jasmine Rice Pilaf

Ingredients:
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ medium onion, finely chopped
½ small fennel bulb, finely chopped
¼ cup coarsely chopped fennel fronds
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon ground coriander
¼ teaspoon ground turmeric
1 cup uncooked jasmine rice
1½ cups low-sodium chicken stock
¼ cup chopped unsalted, roasted almonds, divided
2 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh cilantro

Directions:
Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium-high. Add onion, fennel, and garlic, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring often, until onion is softened and translucent, 5–8 minutes. Add coriander and tumeric and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add rice and cook, stirring often, until some grains are translucent, about 3 minutes.

Add stock, season with salt and pepper, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover saucepan, and simmer until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed, 12–15 minutes. Remove pan from heat and fluff rice with a fork. Cover with a clean kitchen towel, then lid. Let sit 10 minutes.

Stir in fennel fronds and half of almonds. Top with cilantro and remaining almonds.

Serves 4