to be in the middle of winter is an enigmatic moment in time. equal parts lost to the tundra, resigned to the ice, romanced by the warmth-seeking behavior, and reflecting in quandary to the moment where we may be released from such a grip. a grip that doesn’t necessarily carry a connotation, but a grip nonetheless. winter comes assertive and sheer with intention. my only direct point of contention is the inability to flourish beside the garden, but in true fashion, we ready ourselves for these months the remainder of the year.
that being said: it’s been chaotically warm here, record-breaking they have spoken. the dense layer of snow finally melted completely into the atmosphere, revealing a muddy ocean beneath. i have so seen the sun twisting her warmth into the veins of trees, seducing buds to prematurely pucker. the birds have emerged from slumber and solitude with high-pitched songs and business meetings at every fence post. by any account, for the past two weeks, it would seem that spring was defying the clever admissions of a prior groundhog. she may still. but in the midst of this warmth is a burgeoning reminder that this is indeed february – a snow storm later this week to solidify the reality.
and so i’m embracing this charismatic burst of enigmatic season with a little of everything. the citrus fruits are in high tide, (see: blood orange praise), as well are winter roots and spring promises. enter: a drinking vinegar that some may formally know as a shrub. something undeniably bold and bright to punctuate any muted days ahead, and to generously steward in the eventual succession of spring.
- 1 large mandarin, zested, peeled, and segmented
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 cup water
- 1 lb carrots, grated
- 2 tbl finely grated fresh ginger
- 1 cup apple cider vinegar
- sparkling water, for serving
- in a small bowl, massage the mandarin zest into the sugar until evenly mixed and fragrant - the sugar will be a pale orange color.
- make a simple syrup in a medium saucepan over medium heat, combining the sugar into the water until dissolved. add the grated carrots, ginger, and segmented mandarin slices, bringing the mixture to a gentle simmer. simmer for about 15-20 minutes, until the carrot and mandarin become tender and the water absorbs their color. stir in the apple cider vinegar, bring back to a simmer, and then immediately remove from the heat.
- strain the mixture in a colander, reserving the liquid and discarding the solids. cool in the refrigerator before serving.
- to serve: pour 2 oz of the shrub in a glass and top with sparkling water.
I find this thaw more than a bit terrifying. It follows no patterns that I know, and I’m worried about what this will mean for our plants later this season. Sometimes it seems like the whole world is in chaos, weather included.
On a happier note, this looks amazing. I love shrubs but always think of them as a warm weather drink. I would drink this even if it starts to snow today (please let it snow). It’s like winter sunshine in a glass.
Allyson – I agree, our current world seemingly possesses a universally felt chaos, in climate and spirit, among many other avenues. As with the weather, I am very eager to know what our growing season will look like this year. There has been zero predictability! / Thank you so much for your love. I was definitely feeling this bright shrub before it started snowing again. I love how sunny the color came out, perhaps a reminder to keep our chins up, eh? xo
I had the same thought-liquid sunshine. It’s so much more inviting than the shot glass of cider vinegar I drink every morning!
A bit of a better bet, Jean? 😉 I do vinegar in the morning, too. Lately I’ve been enjoying a quarter of a lemon in a mug of warm water to begin, and I have to say I feel a vast improvement over a wealth of areas. Intrigued, I am. xo
I’ve never had a shrub… it intimidates me somehow. But I love kombucha, which is also a bit vinegar-y, so I’d love to try this 🙂
I am right beside you, Sarah! I enjoy kombucha thoroughly – it is my go-to when my stomach issues seem to rear their ugly heads. I love shrubs very much, they lend themselves well to artistry and experimentation with flavor (something we all adore!). The version I’ve brewed here is very easy, just a quick simmer on the stove. I believe the more traditional way is brewed slowly over a number of days in the refrigerator. I really dig the vinegar base. Hope all is well with you, beautiful girl, I’ve been enjoying all that you do. xo
I love winter. I love the stillness, moments of hibernation, and the period of time before the world forces us out and about. After being in denial that spring has come, which seems like a lifetime early, but in fact is just about three weeks early for us in Missouri. I am ready for it. This elixir is a wonderful collide of seasons. And I’m a girl for shrubs, anytime. This you probably know, xx.
I love that you love winter, Sherrie. And most surely for the reasons you’ve given me – dare I forget that it is at its very best a time of quiet and gathering. I admit, sometimes I have the ability to get bitter with the ‘onslaught’ of disastrous weather – but the hibernation is much needed. That being said, spring is welcomed by me at any moment (and I feel that moment coming quickly). Thank you for your love, I truly did have you in mind when I thought to flirt with a shrub (glad I did). All my love to you.
Having a ‘real’ winter with lots of snow has always been a fantasy of mine. The crisp blanket on the earth, the slowing down, and utter quietness always seems so appealing. Here on the west coast, we move from a mild summer to endless grey and rain -but these little cups of sunshine look like the perfect way to bring colour into the season.
Sophie, thank you so! I’ve been quietly meditating on how I can bridge the seasons (a sweet obsession of mine), and I thought this would do quite well. Also, I needed a pick me up as this winter has been uncharacteristically rough on me. Yet, it is true, and I believe in your fantasy – there is an unbeatable feeling when the world is dressed in silence and snow. The feeling that everyone is sharing the same fate, and that there is nothing left to do but slow the proverbial roll. I love that feeling, it’s rather romantic. I’m sending you snow day fantasies as we ride this wave into spring. Love to you, beautiful friend.