The 1999 film Simply Irresistible is by all standards a terrible movie, in which Sarah Michelle Gellar inherits her mother’s restaurant, but almost runs it into the ground until a man sells her a magic crab. A MAGIC CRAB. “This special crab is magical and it casts spells, with a wave of its claw,” says Wikipedia. Who let this movie get made? Okay but the point is that somehow through the magic crab every time Gellar cooks whatever emotion she is feeling gets transferred into the food, so her customers feel whatever she is feeling.
Crabs aside, the premise of this movie makes twisted intuitive sense. Kitchen Witchery is indeed a thing. The act of cooking and preparing food is ritualistic, and all it takes is to put some meaning or energy into your actions to possibly transform it into something magical. That is, if you believe in that, which I’m not sure I do. However, I very much believe in the power of suggestion, and good food, so I was incredibly excited when my good friend Jess Zimmerman bought me A Kitchen Witch’s Cookbook.
When I first got the book I imagined it was filled with elixirs and tonics, whether natural remedies for illnesses or potions to make all your wishes come true. When I opened it, I saw a recipe with instructions to “garnish with cheese for change, parsley for protection and health, or tomatoes for love.”
This was even better.
For my first foray into witchy cooking, I was looking for a suitable meal or drink for the winter solstice or New Year’s, ideally something bringing luck and protection in the face of change. I had a lot of options. There were “Bountiful Bagel Chips,” whose roundness represents the solar. I could make “Turkey Toccata” with eight leeks for fortitude. I could eat apples for wise choices and health. But I was drawn to one elixir called the “Psychic Physic,” probably because it called for a can of pina colada mix. I’ve adapted it here
“Each of the fruits and spices of this drink have been chosen for their psychic enhancement attributes. Additionally, peaches are for wisdom.”
1 (10 oz.) can frozen, non-alcoholic pina colada mix
4 ½ cups cold water
2 whole peaches, chopped (or one can chopped peaches, drained)
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon anise extract
¼ teaspoon peppermint extract
Rose petals and bay leaves for garnish
- Gather your ingredients and contemplate how the hell peppermint extract plays into this.
- Place the pina colada mix and water into your food processor because you don’t have a blender. Look at how gross it is. Look at it.
- Realize that it’s too much water and it’s leaking all over your counter, so pour it out and lose a little pina colada mix. Contemplate getting a blender but really it’s just one more piece of equipment and you’re trying to downsize anyway.
- If you have a blender, throw everything but the rose petals and bay leaves into it, and blend. If using a food processor, throw everything but the rose petals, bay leaves and water in, and blend while slowly adding water so it doesn’t overflow.
- Pour the perfumey mixture into a glass and garnish with rose petals and bay leaves.
Despite the food processor fiasco, I did my best to focus my intentions while making the drink. Stripped of ritual, holidays, and beliefs in gods, that’s what religion, spirituality, meditation, or any similar practice lets us do–we think, we focus, and maybe we hear something our mind wasn’t clear enough to hear before. I took deep breaths and thought about why I wanted wisdom and what I would use it for. I thought about what psychic enhancement means to me, whether it’s appealing to read someone else’s mind or just feel more in tune with what’s going on around me. I started repeating the explanations I came up with to myself, and if anyone could have looked into my mind, they would have thought it was a spell.
Okay but the drink was disgusting.
I was right to question the peppermint. Peaches and pineapple and cinnamon all make for a good tiki concoction, but it tasted like it was blended with toothpaste. But I didn’t realize it at first. I thought maybe it was just an entirely new flavor, and that my main feeling was surprise. I texted Jess that “It might be good, I’m halfway through and I still can’t tell.” She responded “It cannot.”
According to the book, this is bring awareness, psychic energy, mystical insight, and a whole bunch of other wisdoms to the person drinking it. After about half the glass, I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I believe that it’s because I gained the mystical insight to realize just how gross it is. So it works. Happy new year.
That movie sounds kind of like a bad version of Like Water For Chocolate.
Also isn’t her love interest Alec Baldwin in that one
If I remember correctly though, SMG did have a wardrobe absolutely amazing coats in that movie.
No, you’re thinking of something else. Her love interest in Simply Irresistible is Sean Patrick Flanery. Whom you may know from something else. But I certainly don’t.
Her coats (and, in fact, a good percentage of her wardrobe throughout the movie) are to die for.
And Sean Patrick Flanery is also known as The Better Looking Brother In The Boondock Saints, which is one of my favorite movies and is about as far to the other end of the spectrum as you can get from Simply Irresistible (which I must confess I saw in theaters and own on VHS and still find enjoyable, as long as I turn off the portion of my brain that thinks).
It’s one of my favourite feel-good movies. The clothes, the glamour, the straight-up weirdness! Also, Patricia Clarkson is fabulous in it.
Agreed. That’s definitely a Very Bad American Capitalist Idea of Like Water for Chocolate.
No, can’t be, Like Water For Chocolate is already the bad version of Like Water For Chocolate
This is right up my alley! Do any of y’all toasties have particularly kitchen witchy things you do? Mine is a heavy dependance on herbal teas. I always do peppermint for digestion and ginger for nausea: my grandmother used to rub peeled ginger on my wrists when I had an upset stomach, but I haven’t reached that level of commitment to the cause yet.
Tomatoes for love, I totally buy that. Peppermint and pineapple does sound like a match made in the bowels of hell, though.
When I feel myself coming down with something, I do an all-purpose warding-off-colds brew of hot water, fresh ginger, garlic, turmeric, cinnamon, honey, lemon, cayenne, and a splash of either cider vinegar or whiskey. I have no idea if it has any true health effects, but the vaguely medicinal taste and the tingliness from the cayenne gives me the illusion that it’s doing something.
My mom used to make me (just a tiny bit of) whiskey toddies when I had a cold. Mostly lemon and really, really comforting! I’m going to try adding those spices though, as that sounds extra nice. Plus the taste of lemon gets a bit old after like the fourth toddy.
The garlic keeps it from being exactly pleasant as a toddy, so you could leave that out if that’s what you’re going for. If you’re just going for a tasty drink rather than a restorative, I’d concentrate on the ginger/lemon/honey combo.
My mom did a ginger/honey/lemon mix when I was sick. Got the job done.
My illnesses come in two kinds- the kind that needs ginger/honey/cinnamon type things and the kind that needs virgin bloody marys. Chest colds & sinus respectively. Spicy foods bring blood to your sinuses which makes you feel slightly better and helps with congestion somewhat.
I enjoy crushing things with my mortar and pestle, although if I’m honest, I usually give up halfway through and stick em in my spice-dedicated coffee grinder.
My mortar and pestle gets the most workout of any of my kitchen appliances, although I only crush things to ‘slightly less chunky’ rather than aiming for perfection. I’ve started putting crushed, dried bird’s eye chilis into everything (with cloves, cumin, a bunch of other stuff it makes a good start to a smokey sauce base) and, speaking of magic, it clears my sinuses just to crush it up. And then I have to cook with all the windows open. But! Ugh, the flavor!
My mom makes this syrup out of elderberries, honey, ginger, and cinnamon that she swears by for nausea. It proved its worth last year when the stomach flu was going around. I mean, we were all still pukey and miserable, but significantly less pukey and miserable than the LAST time the stomach flu came around.
It doesn’t keep well in the fridge, but can be frozen nigh-indefinitely, and with the honey it only freezes to a slushy, easily-scoopable consistency. It’s like health gelato! Take one spoonful several times a day until your stomach stops hating you.
Sounds perfect! I don’t expect actual results: for those I take medicine like a normal 21st century person, but for those occasions when the choice is between toughing it out feeling miserable and toughing it out feeling slightly less miserable, cordials, toddies and tonics are my jam.
Cinnamon seems like it would be an extra nice touch there.
I bake. I am especially practiced at spite cakes, which have nasty messages for the object of my ire written in frosting on the top. Spite cakes require all the aggrieved parties to eat of the cake so they are best when someone has pissed an entire group of people off.
Whoa, I am impressed! Does the offender also have to eat the cake? I suppose they probably don’t deserve any cake if they’ve done wrong.
The offender is, in fact, strictly prohibited from eating the cake. They are bad and they should feel bad.
Makes perfect sense! I lean towards Glenda the Goodwitch in my practice, which explains why I’m never invited to fun things like spite cake parties.
OFFENDERS MUST NEVER HAVE CAKE. Ahem, that is all….
FALSE IT’S THE BEST CANDY
I don’t think it’s particularly witchy, but it is moderately magical/superstitious: for an upset stomach, drink a Coke, room-temperature, in a glass, stirred with a fork. It has to be regular Coke and it has to be a fork. (I actually think this is just science — the end goal is “somewhat flat room-temperature Coke,” the fork is just a little more effective at flattening it than a spoon would be — but I have come to accept that it’s superstition because every time I do it my husband makes fun of me. “Does it have to be a metal fork? If you put ice in it does it freeze the magic? Do you have to stir it counter-clockwise?”)
Ritual totally counts!
My mom would always make me drink Coke when I had an upset stomach! Not stirred with a fork (though I should try that), but room temperature for sure. It does help.
To this day, I have never once drunk a cola for pleasure, since it tastes like medicine to me, so probably good for my overall health as well.
Same for me, but ginger ale instead of coke! Also, I guess my mom was lazy because she just let it sit for half an hour and get flat on its own.
Even now I always want ginger ale when my stomach’s upset. But it has to be Canada Dry, none of this Schweppes fakery.
Coke is pretty damn magical for migraines.
Grilled pineapple with thinly sliced mint leaves scattered all over it after it comes off the grill is pretty good, as are muddled mint leaves in iced tea that contains wedges of pineapple and/or pineapple juice, but I reject the idea that peppermint extract belongs with pineapple.
That sounds wonderful! I could see swapping in peaches, too.
It’s more theater superstition than proper witchery, but I break out the throat coat tea the second I feel under the weather and barely drink anything else until I’m better. It works better than Emergen-C ever did. (Pro tip: Vitamin C might generally boost your immune system, but it does nothing if you’re already sick.)
That tea is EVERYTHING. I used it to get a giant Vagina Monologues cast through performance week when we all caught the same crud. It’s magic.
Cardamom in my coffee, for deliciousness and also hopefully mental clarity. Also I’ve started drying some of my own herbs (not growing them yet–just drying the leftovers when I have to buy fresh ones for particular recipes). It’s pretty easy–it just takes string, clothespins, and jars.
Drying things is my favorite! Sage and thyme work a treat, and rosemary, since I never water my plants it’s always almost dry to start with. Cardamom coffee sounds yummy! I already do cinnamon sometimes, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to add both…
Get parsley as well, and you have a wonderful song allusion in your dried herbs.
I don’t know why I’ve never though of drying my leftover herbs, thank you! (I can’t grow my own in my apartment, the cat does not allow it.)
My martial arts instructor would recommend ginger compresses / hot water baths for strained or sore muscles / tendons (we did a lot of joint manipulation techniques).
I make lip balms, creams and lotions in my kitchen, which is less witchy than alchemical, and also entirely fueled by my deep love for the movie Practial Magic which is, I admit, very much witchy.
Hahah gross it looks like a big lump of gooey brains
As much as I love the romance of elixirs and herbs and mysterious combinations, I have a hard time seeing food as witchcraft. It is possible that I am just too prosaic, but I think it is because I cook nearly everything I eat. These tomatoes can’t be magic, I bought overripe ones on sale from the market and stewed them into oblivion. Herbs can’t be magic, they are scientific, adding notes and depths to the otherwise flat tomatoes. Turning these things into marinara might be a kind of magic, but that also might just be my immersion blender. Immersion blenders are actual magic.
Wine and spirits, though. I am willing to believe in witchery there. I am a big believer in the properties of wine to loosen the tongue and settle the stomach, and I am 80% sure I once cured a pretty serious cold with a whiskey-and-ginger and a hot bath with epsom salts. So if the kitchen witch has any recipes for home fermenting, sign me up.
I recently got into liquor infusions. They’re really fun and really easy to do, especially if you’re using teas. Liquor + tea + 30 minutes = deliciousness.
Bourbon and lapsang souchong tastes straight-up like scotch. I.e. it tastes like a campfire.
Bourbon and oolong tastes like a forest in springtime.
Bourbon and black tea with cinnamon and rose hips tastes like a winter evening in front of the fireplace.
Gin and Earl Grey tastes like a field of wildflowers.
Gin and jasmine tastes like soap. I think I over-steeped that one.
YES TO THIS. I did a couple of spirit infusions in the last year, namely as a thrift thing, so my base was pretty much always bottom-shelf vodka. I did sweet black tea vodka (to be mixed with lemonade) but my favorite was steeping the tops of strawberries–greens and all! Cause normally you’d just throw that part away, right? But the strawberry tops infuse vodka or gin with a beautiful color and fragrance, and mixed with lemonade it made an extremely pretty and extremely potent party drink.
I’m definitely going to try some of your tea pairings this year!
Rum + mango makes the best mojitos in the entire world.
try hibiscus vodka. You have to let it sit over night, but then you have a bottle of summer.
I have hibiscus tea and vodka right now! But what would you mix hibiscus vodka with? This vodka is too cheap to sip, even when infused.
The one infusion I’m doing is booze (currently using bourbon) + vanilla beans for homemade vanilla extract, which has worked really well and is way better than whatever mystery liquid comes with store bought extract.
I infused so many liqueurs this summer! Experiments all, but the elderflower one must have at least a little magic in it, it turned out that good. As did the didn’t-find-enough-of-either-fruit rosehip, blackberry, elderberry & apple. Blackberry was disappointing but got turned into blackberry-and-sloe later in the year which saved everything, quince and chestnut are still in process.
Those tea infused liquors sound incredible, I need to try every one, Earl Grey first!
Do you have any suggestions as to what supplier would be good for things like rosehips? I’ve always been curious as to what they taste like, but have no idea where to get them.
In this case, I used a storebought tea bag that had the tea, cinnamon, and rose hips already combined! It was some Latino brand from the supermercado.
If you’re looking for rose hips on their own, you could try the local occult book store (if there is one). They almost always have a variety of dried herbs for sale, though it can be quite pricey. Otherwise… the internet? IDK, I’m still pretty new at this!
It can be pricey, but Mountain Rose Herbs is the best place to buy bulk herbs online!
Please go and play with some yeast because BREAD IS MAGIC and ENRICHED DOUGHS WHERE YOU HAVE TO MAKE A LITTLE ALIEN YEAST STARTER FIRST ARE PURE WITCHCRAFT.
I definitely lean the other way – lately I’ll home-make pretty much everything (except for fancy coffee, and lunch maybe once a week), and I am always absurdly thrilled when my sad tomatoes and random herbs become something so much greater than the sum of their parts. Quinces turn into translucent ruby jelly overnight in a low oven! Aubergines turn to silk if you roast them right! Yesterday I randomly made a cardamom cake that turned out to be a lovely pillow of spiciness!
I have! I do! But when I make bread (and pickles! and cheese, now and then! and just about anything else!) I certainly enjoy it but it makes me feel economical and clever, not particularly witchy.
And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.
I’m sorry, I realise I sounded deranged and abrasive there… I’m not sure I feel especially “witchy” either but I do find it quite magical? Or at least I can’t find a better word for it? It makes me feel smart and talented, and a teensy bit smug, and maybe I spend too much time around people who don’t enjoy cooking because it’s made me aggressively evangelical about how fulfilling it is… I’m sorry.
(okay enriched starters do make me feel witchy because of the way they bubble up but that’s definitely more a hangover from my childhood obsession with The Worst Witch)
No worries! I take blame for being That Guy who comes to rain on the kitchen witchery parade, although in my defense, if the psychic physic is representative of this particular book’s witchcraft then it is some very dark and dangerous magic indeed.
It looks like a raw chicken smoothie!!
I am just at the exact point of insecurity with my spiritual practice that I can’t tell if I am being laughed at or with, and instead I’m just squirming.
Or maybe it’s just because I can’t seem to look away from that picture. Ew.
I love the idea of food alchemy/magic. Does anyone have any recommendations for recipes/cookbooks? The one Jaya used looks interesting, but I would prefer books that don’t use the word “G***y”.
Yeah, I was going to say something along the lines of “I’d’ve known it was crap from the G-word, there.” Bleh.
Yeah, that was when the “Oh HELL no” kicked in for me.
It really depends on what you’re looking for. I may actually own the book in question if it’s the one by Patricia Telesco, but in general, if I’m kitchen witching, I don’t use specific recipes–more that I kind of have a mental list of the common herbal/spice associations (that I use) and use them accordingly. Like rosemary is about mental clarity and alertness; lemon and orange are for brightening, clearing depression; cinnamon is for comfort (or for sexing things up–it can be both, even), garlic is for protection, etc.
A big part of kitchen magic for me is in the mindset–what am I going for in my cooking? I made curry for a potential love interest once which allowed me to use cardamom (love/lust) and crushed red pepper (add to that burning chemistry!) and cinnamon (sexy comfort) and while dancing around the kitchen to the jazz music he put on the stereo for me. So much giddy, flirty energy went into that pot of curry, and it absolutely filled the entire house that night. Then, some time later, when I was cooking one last goddamn meal for that asshole, I made fuck-you enchiladas–chili powder to break the spell he had over me, onion to banish the habit of him, first while listening to music I knew he’d HATE on the stereo, and then in silence–I focused on wanting him to look for me when his life was too quiet, and to realize what he’d lost. There’s a tremendous amount of power available when you combine cooking skills, herbal knowledge and pure emotion.
What is the g-word?! I’ve been trying to figure this out for 15 minutes. Help me.
Oh I believe the article was edited to remove it (although it seems to still appear in the short description of the post on the main page), which is why you can’t find it. I can’t get the link to properly work, but there is a discussion about it and why it was removed in the comments to the The Order In Which I Would Have Murdered the “And Then There Were None Guests”
Like Water for Chocolate did the emotions in cooking thing much better. And you can get the actual recipes for that one if you buy the novel.
OK, OK, but I think the thing we all need to know is what witchy properties Qream imparts.
Maniacal cackling, maybe warts?
I’ve been making my own legal-in-certain-states tincture since a few years ago when all the places stopped stocking it out of fear of being busted by the Feds on their lack of liquor licenses. It’s a magical and delicious process with equally magical and delicious results.
Hi yes I am here for this. I actually own this terrible movie AND identify as a kitchen witch and pagan so yesssss.
*reads ingredient list*
The hell? No.
What is the g-word?! I've been trying to figure this out for 15 minutes. Help me.
I am not of this group and didn't learn the word was offensive until I was an adult, so if anyone has a better link please post:
http://gypsyappropriations.blogspot.com/2010/04/p…
Did you really say "herbs can't be magic"? What does it mean that they are "scientific"? Are you actually a magick practitioner? I think you're cheating yourself somehow…if you love the romance of elixirs and herbs and mysterious combinations, how can you have a hard time seeing food as witchcraft? Have you ever read magickal cookbooks and herbals and the like? And I don't mean flipped through one or two, I mean have you actually read and researched and experimented? Sorry but there is a lot you clearly haven't learned or experienced if you really think herbs can't be magic, that does not even compute to me.
It rhymes with "tipsy" and is an ethnic slur for the Romani people. IME most Americans don't know that it's a slur or even that it refers to a specific ethnic group, and just use it to mean something along the lines of "romantic nomad," so it unfortunately gets tossed around a lot by well-meaning but ill-informed people, in contexts where it really does not belong.
I love the idea of food alchemy/magic