Barn & Book

Cold season, flu season, coronavirus season: it didn’t take a COVID-19 outbreak for me to get the sniffles last week. With temperatures fluctuating between freezing and balmy, a hectic work schedule, and not enough sleep, I came down with a garden-variety cold. Not to worry everyone, it was sneezing and a cough, and I tucked in at home and didn’t go outside for a full week+.

I hate using cold medicine. It always dries me out and messes with my brain; I become a complete zombie. Also, with coronavirus sweeping the east coast, I wanted to closely monitor my temperature to ensure I didn’t have a fever. Tylenol was out. This time around, I only used a single dose sudafed on my worst day (to turn off the faucet that was my nose).

Of course, I’m not a masochist, so I did do a few things to aid my recovery and aleave my symptoms.

My arsenal for cold recovery*:

1. 1. Melatonin. Each night, I took a melatonin pill to help me get a full night’s rest. When I’m sick, my sleep schedule gets out of whack very quickly. Napping during the day and staying awake all night is a recipe for disaster. By taking melatonin (a naturally occurring hormone that regulates sleep cycles), I had the extra help I needed to fall asleep each night at a normal hour and get the full night’s rest my body needed.
   2. Water. When I’m sick, I drink so much water, I’m practically floating. I drink water with lemon, hot water, ice water, water with Emergen-C, water with a dash of whatever juice I have in the fridge. I just fill up my biggest mason jar (4 pints – thanks Grammie), throw in a straw, and drink water until I grow gills.
   3. Tea with honey, lemon, and freshly grated ginger and garlic. This can’t-live-without-it remedy has its roots in my childhood. My dad is not a cook (he just learned how to make oatmeal last year), but boy, can he make a cup of tea. Just a teabag, a whole lot of pulpy lemon, and more honey than a child should consume. The tart syrupy brew that soothed every ailment is one of my strongest childhood memories. Today, I make something slightly less diabetic (but really – honey is antibacterial – so actually you need it), and a little sharper to the palate. Instead of a tea bag, I grate half an inch of fresh ginger and a clove of garlic directly into a mug of hot water, add the juice of half a lemon, a generous portion of honey, and let it all steep. I’m telling you, this elixir is magic and it really does taste good! If you’re put off by the ginger pulp that settles on the bottom of your mug, you can throw all of that beautiful spicy ginger and garlic into a tea filter bag or tea ball strainer.
   4. Gargle with salt water. This is my least favorite, and its ALSO a remedy brought to you by my dad. I can’t tell you how much I hate gargling with (but really choking on) briny warm water when I’m feeling gross, but, darn it, it works. Anytime I or my sisters complain about a sore throat, its the first thing my Dad asks: “Did you gargle with salt water”? His question is almost always met with a groan and a sigh, and, eventually, a begrudging trip to the sink.

*Hey, I’m not a doctor, so obviously follow the advice of a healthcare professional

How to Make Garlic, Ginger, and Lemon Tea

Supplies:

Micro-plane
Juicer

Ingredients:

12 oz water
1/2 lemon, juiced
1 T freshly grated ginger
1 clove garlic
1 T honey (or more, to taste)

 

1. Boil a kettle of water. I recommend really bringing your water to a boil, so your water’s steaming prolifically (I like to think of it as a personal humidifier).
2. Meanwhile, take a micro-plane and grate about a tablespoon of fresh ginger into a mug. Do the same for a clove of garlic. If you don’t like sediment in the bottom of your mug, you can use a tea ball or filter bag.
3. Juice half a lemon (reserve the other half for garnishing OR future tea servings) into your mug.
4. Add a tablespoon of honey (or more, if you prefer)
5. Pour your boiled water over everything, stir, and let sit for five minutes
6. Enjoy!