Hailey told me purple and yellow in nature can usually be found together.
Jasmine and Oregon Grape within a stone's throw of one another.
Close enough to my house to sneak a few from my neighbor's garden.
Hyacinth and Daffodil.
Violet and Balsamroot.
Dandelion and Crocus.
Amethyst and Gold.
I've been wishing to make bitters lately. It sounds very simple. Add a bittering herb to a high-proof alcohol alcohol and let it sit.
Dandelion root, burdock, orange peel, lavender, and coffee I've heard suggested.
Sprinkle in an effervescent beverage for a nice drink or directly on the tongue to stimulate and aid digestion.
In my personal experience, I've discovered the perfect recipe for bitterness.
I've realized it's easier for me to be bitter than it it to communicate through pain. Holding grudges has become my super-power as some might have learned in knowing me.
Here's the recipe:
Take your pain and bottle it up. Put it deep inside the shelf of your basement and think about it often. Stroke your minds eye over the details of it as you lay in bed at night trying to sleep.
Don't let sweetness in. You can be around it but don't let it permeate you.
If this doesn't come naturally to you, you'll have to practice.
Never ever be vulnerable. Never cry in front of anyone. If you must cry, do it alone. Go in the kitchen when no one is paying attention and cut the onions. All the onions.
Your bitterness might change slightly in flavor in time, but it will never expire or go stale. You can hold onto it forever, perfectly preserved. Mistrust, silence, and self-preservation are survival skills that make excellent bittering agents.
Some sweetness has snuck in recently. Some softness. A strange feeling. The script has shifted a little bit. My strength has always been in my ability to hold a grudge and forgo love.
(Hunger hurts, but starving works)
This is honey.
It's pleasant, this feeling, I've known it from before.
It's hard to maintain.
Left alone, I identify as an acerbic brine.
Recommended ingredients: red onions with a a fresh floret of dill and small palm of juniper berries.
Ah, purple and yellow. There they are again.