As I write this, it's *checks Weather Channel* 48 degrees here in Winterton, and it looks like we won't be getting snow for at least another week. But I know the cold dreary weather is coming, and along with it the usual sniffles and malaise. This year, of course, coronavirus is adding a whole new layer of worry to the winter cold season. So I decided to be a little proactive and prepare fire cider.
Fire Cider is an immunity-boosting elixir that combines the heat of peppers and spices with the enzymes of fermentation to buck up your system. My theory is that it annoys your body enough to spur a chemical reaction that fires up your immunity.
Anyway, before Thanksgiving, I gathered the ingredients and got to work. I followed the recipe provided by freepeople.com - but, really, most fire cider recipes follow the same formula. Any combination of these would work:
Horseradish
Ginger
Garlic
Onion
Lemon
Jalapeno
Orange
Peppercorns
Cayenne
Turmeric
You can either slice, chop or grate the ingredients (of course, grating them allows more surface area to be exposed and probably infuses the cider more quickly).
HEAVY ADVICE: If you will be grating the ingredients, as I did, open a window or wear swim goggles. Seriously, Especially if you'll be grating the horseradish on a box grater (ill-advised; in the future, I'll try a blender or food processor). By the time I grated the ginger, garlic, and horseradish, I was weeping out all my sorrows (which is helpful in its own cathartic way). Then I realized I still had the onion to grate and wept even more. An open window or goggles: your choice or, as my mom used to say, "don't come crying to me." :)
Load all of the prepared ingredients into a quart-size Mason jar, then finish with two cups of apple cider vinegar. I use Bragg's organic vinegar, which boasts that it contains the vinegar "mother" - protein enzymes that are reputedly healthy for you.
Speaking of Mason jars, who here also loves wide-mouth jars? Our cabinets are full of coffee mugs, plastic cups, and drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes. But if I had to downsize, I'd be darn pleased with just a pint-size wide-mouth Mason jar and a stainless steel wine/coffee tumbler.
In fact, I'm drinking water out of my favorite jar right now. Call me a hillbilly or whatever you want; I'll just smile as I sip.
Back to the cider. After you've topped off your jar with vinegar, layer a square of parchment or wax paper between the jar and the lid because the vinegar will rust the lid if you don't. Screw on the ring. Now comes the hard part - waiting four weeks for the flavors to infuse. Keep it in a cool, dark place. I keep ours in what I call the "swingy cabinet": the lazy Susan corner cabinet in our kitchen. Thanks to our home's steel construction, there are large spaces between the exterior and interior walls. The house was vacant for seven months before we moved in, and wildlife (squirrels, mice, bats, even snakes!) used the voids as their highway, stamping down the insulation over those many months. So that cabinet in particular stays cool enough to solidify our olive oil in the winter.
Shake the jar of fire cider every day for a week, then shake once a week to ensure everything stays submerged. I had to top it off with more vinegar as everything settled.
After a month, strain the cider through a cheesecloth-lined strainer into a pot, then gather the corners of the cloth together and squeeze the ever-lovin' life out of it. You can discard the solids (onion and such doesn't play so well with compost) or find a way to use it. I toss it in the trash after thanking it for serving us so well (I actually don't thank it, that sounds ridiculous, but I suppose you could Marie Kondo it if you want. Is KonMarie even a thing anymore?).
Pour the cider into sterilized sealable bottles or jars. I have some growler-type wine bottles that I'm planning to use this year. To use, simply take a tablespoon of it once or twice a day. Add raw honey to each serving if you really can't stand the taste - try not to add honey to the whole batch to avoid spoilage.
Store it in a cool, dark place (hello, swingy cabinet!) for up to a year. It never lasts that long in my house.
Comments