One of my favorite memories from my grandmother’s farm is the late summer day we went picking sumac berries. I was eleven, trailing her through the woods, my hands stained red from the fuzzy clusters she’d pluck with a grin. “These’ll wake you up,” she’d say, dropping them into a basket before heading back to soak them in water. The drink she made was tart and bright, like sunshine in a cup, and it left me buzzing with energy. That was her Cherokee way with sumac—a tonic I’m thrilled to share through naturalhealth.website.
My grandmother was part Cherokee, and she had this quiet brilliance for turning the land into something healing. Growing up, I’d follow her around the farm, watching her find medicine in places I’d never think to look. Sumac was one of her treasures—those red berries popping against the green of late summer. She’d tell me how the Cherokee used them for sore throats or just to perk up when the days got heavy. It wasn’t fancy—just a gift from the bushes along the trails, and she loved sharing it with me like a little ritual.
What makes sumac so lively? It’s packed with vitamin C and antioxidants—stuff that fights off colds and gives you a boost. The Cherokee soaked the berries in cold water to make a drink, steering clear of heat to keep the flavor sharp and the goodness intact. My grandmother called it a “pick-me-up,” perfect for scratchy throats or sluggish afternoons. She’d laugh at how my face puckered with the first sip, but I’d keep drinking—it was too good to stop.
If you want to try it her way, it’s easy as can be. Find staghorn sumac—Rhus typhina, with its red, fuzzy berries (avoid the white-berried kind; it’s toxic)—and pick a handful when they’re ripe in late summer. Rinse them, then soak them in cold water for a few hours, rubbing gently to release the flavor. Strain it through a cloth (those hairs can itch), and you’ve got a tangy, pinkish drink. Add a touch of honey if you like, though she’d tease me for softening it. (Heads up: if you’re allergic to cashews or mangoes, check with a doc—sumac’s in the same family.)
That day, as we sat on her porch with our cups of sumac tea, the sun dipping low, she’d watch me sip and smile like she’d let me in on something big. She was right—it was big, that simple joy of the land’s gifts. That’s what drives naturalhealth.website—keeping her Cherokee lessons alive, like sumac’s bright zing. It’s still growing out there, waiting to lift us up, just like it did for me. Next time you need a spark, give it a taste—and feel her sunshine through the trees.
Written by Jeff Gilder
