I really like blenders. They are almost as cool as sporks. Almost.
I also get really tired of drinking water. Don't get me wrong. I love water. But, I drink so darn much of it, and often I also get tired of tea. My taste-buds plead for something interesting. Something in whose flavors they can dance, and whose tune can be requested repeatedly.
Juicing ginger is hard on my juicer. It has a funny little history, that juicer. It was given to me by a friend who was recovering his memories, from a vacation they did not choose to take; a life of thoughts, swept away in a rush of a second, were now being ferried home to harbor safely in a mind of resurrected life. And, he chose to make me the recipient of a new memory, strangely appropriate in its unsettling familiarity.
This juicer was adopted in Basalt, CO, when my friend received it from a woman. This woman had recently been divorced, cut her hair short, and had decided that she would go the other way in her love life...attraction pulled her the opposite direction, and this time to her same sex. The juicer was about to be orphaned as an extraneous extra, unwanted baggage in this search for identity, self, and new love.
Thus, it came to me, at a time when I had just been divorced myself, and was contemplating cutting the long-hair, my "one beauty," people said, the waist length golden-gilded tresses which men always loved. What did I care now, what men thought? Or what men liked? I would get rid of attraction. A statement, I thought, this hair-cut would be. A testament to change and to trying -- to trying again. I would, I thought, begin my journey to nun-hood. Not the official Catholic-vow-taking kind, mind you; rather, a sect all my own. I would be devoted to seeking out what beauty I could, through this process of healing and searching for joy and grace; yet still as I was reeling in heartbroken pain.
And so, I was offered this Juicer -- brown with age and stained with beet juice, and its lid missing one of the clips to lock it down, thus requiring the owner to keep one hand holding it down, while at the same time feeding the whirling blade fodder, and holding the catching container. This juicer required feminine multitasking at its finest. Unbeknownst at the time, this offering was part of discovering joy.
When memories of this juicer's provocative past brimmed to mind, my friend quickly spoke the addendum, "Oh, bother...bother! I was not implying or suggesting any such actions be taken down your own path!"
Oh no indeed.
But, back to juicing ginger. That root, makes the old juicer grind and grown under the spicy sinews. When last I performed this feat, the old engine smelled of the work it was doing, letting off a little stench and steam in complaint. I felt guilty.
Then, I discovered that one can blend the peeled ginger root and water up in a blender, and then pour this concoction through a tea strainer, garnering much the same results. And, this method produces no motoring protestations!
My current fascination as of late has been captured by apple cider vinegar. Vinegar, really, of any kind. But apple cider vinegar and ginger? That, I thought, would send my mouth waltzing, its flavored tune danced through, and requested again...
~ A Drink of Interest ~
Apple cider vinegar