Embracing the Bitter

This post is my contribution to the Spring Herbs Blog Party hosted by Aquarian Bath.

When trying to come up with a spring herb, I knew that I would need to choose one that was bitter. But I’ll be honest; I still don’t have the faintest clue where to go wildcrafting in my new home. I mean, I had to go to Minneapolis to find gelatin, and had to buy magnesium oil online. And though I’ve made plenty of nettle tea and eaten all sorts of dandelion roots in years past, this year I’ll be buying my bitter herbs (for Passover) in a store.

I never voluntarily ate horseradish growing up. I ate it once a year, during Passover Seder, because I was expected to. The Passover Seder involves a special plate with many symbolic foods, and one of those is maror, or bitter herbs. As someone who’s often flirted with agnosticism, I’ve never really been satisfied with the explanation for eating something on a certain day being that God commanded us to do so. A reminder of the suffering of our ancestors was the other oft-used explanation, something that nobody who understands the tear-stained history of the Jewish tribe (or alltribes, for that matter) could deny. Interestingly enough, the placement of the maror is in the center of the Seder plate, the area that represents mercy. This is explained by the bitterness of spirit causing a manifestation of mercy. The embittered soul pours out its pain and this leads to an abundance of mercy from the Divine, and a resolution. Almost like Hegel’s thesis-antithesis-synthesis. Or perhaps Kahlil Gibran put it best;

“Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Just as the stone of the fruit must break, so that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. And if you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy. If you accept the seasons of your heart, as you have always accepted the four seasons, you would watch with serenity the winters of your grief. Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore, trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility. For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen.”

Beautifully put. In the more physical realm, bitter herbs are all excellent for stimulating digestion and clearing the liver, which is often a bit sluggish going into spring from the rich, heavy foods of winter (and often, let’s be honest, alcohol). It’s almost common sense, really, to eat the bitter greens as you see them popping out of the ground.

Horseradish is a perennial in the Brassicaceae family, related to cabbage, broccoli and mustard. It is an ancient plant. The Delphic Oracle told Apollo that it was worth its weight in gold, according to Greek Mythology. Horseradish was painted in a mural in Pompeii, and was used during the middle ages as a medicine and condiment.

As a food, horseradish is rich in magnesium, calcium, potassium and phosphorus, as well as mustard oil (we’ll talk mustard packs on a different day) and vitamin C. It is said that a combination of mustard and grated horseradish was mentioned by Shakespeare, though I am still searching for a citation. And though horseradish is used in various food and recipes all over the world, I personally can only stand to use it as a condiment or medicine. Actually harvested in fall, horseradish root can of course be dried and stored.

As expected, horseradish is great for sinus relief. It can be mixed with apple cider vinegar and chewed on until the flavor is gone. When I mix it with vinegar, though, I often make fire cider–infusing it along with ginger, onion, garlic and  cayenne pepper in a jar covered with apple cider vinegar. I let it sit for a month in a cool, dark place, strain and use as salad dressing. It can be harsh for those with sensitive stomachs (or who already run dry and hot) but works well to rev up the immunity and beat colds by getting you sweating to flush out colds. And it’s tasty!

Externally, horseradish can often be used successfully as a poultice on torn muscles, bruises or abscesses. I’ve had some luck with it as an ingredient in liniment as well.

My old herbals all speak of horseradish whiskey and horseradish syrup, but I’ve never tried either. Heck, I’ve even read that small centers of horseradish farming were found in my new hometown of Eau Claire. But I wouldn’t know where to find them.

After many phone messages and e-mails, I couldn’t find a Passover Seder to attend, so will be doing my own. When I eat my horseradish this year, I’ll ask for bitterness to be transformed to growth with the dawn of spring. And now we’ve come full circle, and can end with more Kahlil Gibran;

“…Come, my beloved; let us drink the last of Winter’s
Tears from the cupped lilies, and soothe our spirits
With the shower of notes from the birds, and wander
In exhilaration through the intoxicating breeze.

Let us sit by that rock, where violets hide; let us
Pursue their exchange of the sweetness of kisses.”