If you live in the Northern Hemisphere, you are likely familiar with the descent into the colder months of the year. Meeting colder temperatures is a humbling experience for any living being. Cold is a teacher—it shows us how to keep warm through connection, through acts of love that warm the heart. It also teaches urgency. Think of woodland animals scurrying as temperatures drop, gathering what they need to prepare for winter or hibernation.

Holy Basil is one of my absolute favorite herbs, and I know that so many others surely feel the same. Not only is this special plant fragrant and beautiful, but it’s also a valuable ally in the apothecary. The herb is most well-known for its adaptogenic properties. Simply put, holy basil helps the body regulate the effects of stress, bringing balance to our body and spirit. In addition to this, tulsi supports immune function and digestive health, making it a wonderful addition to our winter wellness regimen.

Herbalism is rich in that it encompasses many traditions, modalities, and vibrant cultures globally. Oftentimes, modalities develop that are deeply connected to a place, time, or even a people and become codified into traditions that are passed down from generation to generation. This is the story of African-American herbalism. 

When I first started taking herb classes in the mid-1980’s, herbs like lady’s slipper, osha, and goldenseal were being widely taught about and consumed. As herbalism gained in popularity, these precious herbs were sought after, beyond what could be sustainably harvested. Many of them also became very expensive, and were being wild harvested as a way of making money without regard for the long-term impact of over-harvesting.

You don’t have to stretch your imagination far to understand Black herbalism. You’ve likely already lived it. A kitchen with worn counters. A pot that gets used more than anything else in the house. Roots drying on a windowsill. Someone older than you telling you, “Drink this. You’ll be alright.” 

At a Lammas harvest celebration one summer evening, I gazed up at a towering vitex beside a weathered chestnut-board barn. Violet flower spikes were alive with bees. I rubbed a few of the delicate palmate leaves between my fingers and breathed in the earthy scent.

A few weeks back, I wound up catching a “bug” that really took me out. While I’m usually pretty prepared for most things that may come up in my household, I didn’t have what I needed when I needed it. I was in no condition to be making medicine or trying to source it. With a high fever and intense fatigue, it was hard to even think straight, let alone try to guide someone else to find what I needed or make me something.

“Seeing that certain medicines are discovered,”

wrote Paracelsus, physician-alchemist of plants,

“which preserve the human body and its power to recover

from sundry ailments, and which perchance

When we think of bitters, most of us think of taking an extract before eating to get our digestive juices flowing and prepare our bodies to process a meal. While this is most certainly a core part of working with bitters, there is more that can be considered.

This polished mocktail-worthy punch is a twist on the old-fashioned tangy switchel, but with classy balsamic vinegar, hawthorn berries, apples, and sweet and savory molasses layered in for a refreshing yet grounded, nutritive beverage. A switchel, also known as “Haymaker’s Punch” is a drink crafted with vinegar, ginger, and usually molasses and is used as a refreshing drink that also helps with electrolyte balance.

I know that for many folks a drop in temperature marks the start of pumpkin spice season, but for me it signals the beginning of soup season! Although if I am truly honest, it is always soup season in my heart (and in my kitchen). I can enjoy a steamy bowl of ramen, rich French onion soup, or spicy New Mexican green chile stew even in the height of summer. There is just something deeply satisfying to me about a meal that magically transmutes disparate ingredients into one delicious note—and in one pot no less (fewer dishes for the win!).