The Women Who Kept the Medicine
Before it was an industry, before it was a supplement aisle, before it had a brand or a patent or a price tag, herbal medicine lived in the hands of women.
The grandmothers. The witches. The curanderas. The crones. The wise women who stood at the threshold between the garden and the kitchen, the living and the dying, the sick and the well. They knew which root to dig in autumn, which flower to dry in summer, which bark to steep through the cold months. They learned from the women before them, who learned from the women before them, reaching back in an unbroken line to the first human hands that ever reached for a plant in need.
This medicine was never meant to be complicated. It was never meant to be expensive, or inaccessible, or owned. It grew in the garden. It lived on the stove next to the evening meal. It was made with love, with attention, with the simple knowledge that the earth offers what we need if we know how to ask.
Somewhere along the way, that knowledge was taken from us. Dismissed as superstition, legislated out of practice, handed over to systems that profited from our not knowing. But you cannot suppress what belongs to everyone. The plants kept growing. The recipes kept circulating, hand to hand, kitchen to kitchen, grandmother to granddaughter.
"By its nature, herbal medicine defies ownership," Rosemary Gladstar has said. It cannot be claimed, because it belongs to all of us. It always has.
This is a post about two recipes. It is also a post about remembering.
The Season Asks Something of Us
Fall has a particular quality of invitation.
The light shifts. The air cools. The garden begins to pull inward, sending energy down into the roots rather than up into leaves and flowers. The trees let go. The harvest comes in. Something in the body responds to an ancient recognition, older than language, that this is the time to gather, to preserve, to prepare.
Our ancestors understood this as medicine. Not just physical medicine, but the medicine of rhythm and of living in accordance with the season rather than against it. Fall was the time to dig the roots, to put up the tonics, to stock the pantry with what the cold months would require. The body that moves with the season enters winter stronger.
We have largely lost this. We live in climate-controlled spaces under artificial light, eating strawberries in December and buying remedies manufactured in facilities we'll never see. We have outsourced our seasonal attunement to systems that profit from our disconnection.
But the plants don't know that. They are still here, doing what they have always done. Horseradish is still driving its roots deep into the autumn soil, storing fire for the dark months ahead. Ginger still warms from the inside out. Rosehips still swell with vitamin C right when we need it most. The season is still asking something of us, even if we have forgotten how to listen.
Making your own medicine is one way to listen. It is a small act of remembrance. A return to your own hands.
Two Recipes, One Philosophy
What follows are two of my favorite fall remedies. They are both deeply rooted in folk herbalism — the kind of medicine that doesn't require a certification, an expensive supplement line, or any equipment beyond what's already in your kitchen. They are made with whole plants, whole foods, and whole attention.
The Medicinal Apple Cider is warming, immune-supportive, and deeply nourishing. It can be sipped daily as a tonic, served warm with honey, or used as a base for other drinks. It is the kind of thing your grandmother might have made, if she had known what she was doing in the way that grandmothers used to know.
The Fire Cider is sharper, fiercer, more potent. It is also one of the most beloved preparations in the folk herbalism tradition. A fiery tonic of roots, vinegar, and heat that warms the body from the inside out, supports digestion and circulation, and builds resilience against winter illness. Rosemary Gladstar popularized this recipe in the 1980s. It has since been made in thousands of kitchens by thousands of home herbalists. It belongs to all of them. It belongs to you.
Both recipes are forgiving and endlessly adaptable. That is the nature of folk herbalism: you work with what you have, in the amounts that feel right, trusting the plants and trusting yourself. Start here. Adjust from there.
Medicinal Apple Cider
A warming fall brew packed with medicinal plants. Simple to make, deeply nourishing, immune-supporting and endlessly adaptable to what's in your cabinet.
Ingredients
10 organic apples, roughly chopped — skins, cores and all
6–10 cups filtered water
¼- ½ cup dried organic ginger root (1-2 tablespoon if you are using ground)
¼ cup elderberries (fresh or dried)
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
3-4 organic orange slices
1 tablespoon whole cloves
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
Instructions
Chop the apples. Roughly chop 10 organic apples — use everything. Skins, cores, seeds and all. This is where the pectin and flavor live.
Add everything to the pot. Place apples and all herbs in your Instant Pot or a large stovetop pot. Add 6 to 10 cups of filtered water. This is where things get creative — add any herbs, spices, or plants you have in your garden or cabinet. Think about flavor and medicinal intention together. Some of my favorite add-ons are ginseng, burdock root, marshmallow root, rosehips, or hawthorn berries. Add what calls to you.
Cook. Instant Pot: set on high pressure for 45 minutes. Let depressurize naturally and completely — don't rush it. Stovetop: place all ingredients in a large pot, cover with water, lid on, and simmer on low for 1–2 hours.
Strain and serve. Strain out all the solids. Taste and adjust with a little raw honey to sweeten or more cinnamon if you want more warmth. Store in the refrigerator for up to 10 days and reheat as needed.
Serve warm on cool autumn evenings. Add a splash of bourbon if the occasion calls for it.
Why it works: Elderberries are rich in antioxidants and have been studied for their immune-supporting properties. Ginger is anti-inflammatory and circulatory. Cinnamon helps regulate blood sugar and adds warmth. Cloves are antimicrobial. Together they make a tonic that tastes like the season itself.
Fire Cider
The classic folk remedy, fiery and alive. Make it in October, let it steep through November, and take it all winter long.
Fire cider is a vinegar-based herbal tonic made by infusing a potent blend of roots, alliums, and spices in raw apple cider vinegar. The vinegar extracts the medicinal compounds and preserves them for months. You take it by the tablespoon — straight as a shot, stirred into warm water with honey, or drizzled over greens. It is pungent and fiery and unmistakably alive.
Ingredients
½ cup organic horseradish root, roughly chopped or grated
½ cup or more onion, chopped
6-10 cloves garlic, crushed or whole with skins on
¼ cup or more ginger root
1-3 cayenne or hot peppers, chopped
A handful of fresh herbs: rosemary, sage, or thyme
Raw apple cider vinegar (enough to cover, approximately 3–4 cups)
Raw honey to finish
Instructions
Prepare all your ingredients and place them in a clean quart-size mason jar. Pour raw apple cider vinegar over everything until the jar is full and all ingredients are submerged. If using a metal lid, place a piece of parchment between the lid and jar to prevent corrosion from the vinegar. Seal tightly.
Shake well and store in a cool, dark place — a pantry or cupboard works well. Shake daily if you remember (weekly if you don't — it's folk medicine, not a chemistry lab). Let steep for 3 to 6 weeks.
When ready, strain through cheesecloth or a fine mesh strainer, pressing the solids to extract all the liquid. Compost the solids. Stir in raw honey to taste — start with 2 to 3 tablespoons and adjust from there. Bottle and store in the refrigerator for up to 3-5 months.
To use: Take 1 to 2 tablespoons daily as an immune tonic, especially during cold and flu season. Can be taken straight, mixed into warm water with extra honey.
Why it works: Horseradish is a powerful antimicrobial and decongestant. Garlic is antiviral, antibacterial, and immune-boosting. Ginger and turmeric are anti-inflammatory. Hot peppers increase circulation and warm the body from within. Raw apple cider vinegar supports digestion and creates the acidic environment that extracts and preserves the medicinal compounds. Together, this is one of the most potent, time-tested preparations in the folk herbalism tradition.
Plants Are for the People
Folk herbalism is not a trend. It is not an aesthetic or a lifestyle brand. It is the oldest medicine on earth, and it belongs to everyone.
One of the things I love most about preparations like fire cider and medicinal apple cider is their fundamental democracy. You do not need a degree to make them. You do not need expensive equipment or rare ingredients. You need a kitchen, a jar, and the willingness to trust that the earth provides what we need — because it does, and it always has.
There is a reason that herbalism was suppressed alongside the women who practiced it. Knowledge is power. The woman who knows how to heal her family with plants from her garden is harder to control, harder to profit from, harder to keep dependent on systems that do not have her best interest at heart.
When you make your own fire cider, you are not just making a health tonic. You are participating in an unbroken chain of women's wisdom. You are honoring the grandmothers and the witches and the healers who came before you. You are saying: I trust myself. I trust the plants. I trust that what I need is already here.
That is powerful medicine.
Make it with intention. Share it with the people you love. And if you want to learn more — to get your hands in it, to stand in a kitchen and make medicine together — follow along for upcoming herbalism workshops and more. The plants are waiting.
Take what you need. 🌿
-Sarah
If you're exploring ways to reconnect with your body and create more space in your day, learn more about my offerings.
