I’m no great shakes at tasseography. I noticed a mild sore throat from post nasal drip, so I made some sumac- my favorite go-to for hi C and throat cure. The refuse isn’t tea leaves, but fur from the berries, where the C is stored.
What I see is a faint star with a heart in the middle. Near the base of the heart is a human form.
The bush is native to America, though I have seen something similar used as a meat rub in the Middle East. There are 7-9 leaflets on a stem half a meter long. The bark is furry like freshly grown antlers on deer, with a reddish or yellowish tinge to the hairs.
In mid sumer, bushes get bunches of berries. Bushes have bunches from an early time in their lifespan- about the second year, while the bushes are still about head high. That makes for easier picking. Bushes can get up to ten feet high, but only live about 5 years.
Their wood can be used to make walking sticks. There are few branches on a mature bush, and the wood is usually only a couple inches in diameter. Um- smaller than your wrist. When the leaves fall off, they leave a heart-shaped scar on the bark, where new leaves will generally grow in spring.
Here’s where it gets tricky. The sumac with white bunches is poisonous. Touching the leaves gives a rash like poison ivy. Drinking the tea could kill.
However, bushes bearing red berries are safe. We call it Staghorn Sumac. Walking among them leaves a form of natural mosquito repellent on you… or lightly rub the fresh leaves on your skin before hiking among mosquitoes.
The berries are fuzzy. At the base of each hair is a supply of vitamin C. Getting the berries wet releases the hairs, which sets free the vitamins and flavor. When you see berries which are shiny or have no hair, it’s too late to harvest them- the rain already washed away all the good stuff.
If you do find a bush nearby, plan on baking the harvest immediately. The seed bunches generally house bugs you don’t want indoors. Bake in an oven at 350° until the cut stems are dry and hard. Test after 20 minutes. I usually microwave on high, stopping to check every 5 minutes or so, and watching so the steam doesn’t turn to smoke. Let cool.
Removing the berries from the bunches usually gets under the fingernails and can get painful if you do too much at once. It also dyes the fingers in a way that doesn’t wash off easily. It will have to wear away.
Colonial Americans used the tea as a dye for cloth. It looks brick red when making the tea. Washing with soap turns the fabric a dull dark blue, called “colonial blue” or “woad.”
Once harvested, keep the berries dry in a zipper bag. They will last as long as the fuzz stays on the berries. My last harvest was 17 years ago, and I still have a quarter of a gallon bag. I don’t need to use this tea very often, but it does help with sore throats and laryngitis.
To make the tea, I use a silicon tea strainer shaped like a unicorn. I fill it, plop it in a half a mug of water so it doesn’t overflow, and microwave 5 minutes or until the concoction is dark. I then remove the strainer, add tap hot water to fill the mug, and sip until my sore throat is soothed or my voice returns. It can also be drunk cold or even added as flavoring to shaved ice.
When I first started, I used a rag about the size of my hand, added about a tablespoon of berries, closed it with a rubber band, and then used a hammer to crush the berries. It was supposed to release the hairs more easily. I have not noticed much of a difference between methods. I also added a lot more water once the tea turned dark.
One set of berries can make a gallon (3 liters?) of tea, to taste, but the tea doesn’t last long in the fridge- drink within 2 days. Thus, it’s better to make just what you’ll use up in the short term.
The drink tastes like lemon tea. Do not add sugar, as there is a bitter flavor to the combination. I’ve never tried other sweeteners as the tea is quite good without any additives.
Warning: high vitamin C levels means you won’t sleep at night. It is better to drink before lunchtime, unless the sore throat comes on late in the day and you prefer to keep from getting sicker. I’ve found that waiting overnight allows the germs to take hold- I won’t have the sore throat or laryngitis in the morning, but I’ll be sicker longer. The earlier I can get the tea in me, the better it works in the long term to heal the illness or kill the germs before they take over my body.
Edit: I initially learned about sumac from a book called Free for the Eating by Bradford Angier. The rest is personal experience in Indiana.
Thank you for this link. When I run out, I will need to find a new source. I have purchased and used the spice before. It didn’t seem to be quite the same, but it will do in a pinch, now that I live in the “high desert” where different things grow.
Thank you so much for all this detailed information.
I would like to see if I can find some to buy as well. With a really quick search, I can see that I can get the ground spice version. But the actual whole ones seem to be sold at a huge premium and, judging by the photos, they’re without the “fuzz.”
The drying process is the baking or microwaving process I described as part of the harvesting process, so yes. It would have to be done not just to preserve the berries, but also to cleanse them before storage.
Yes, they are!
Imagine, each one of those … what looks like palm fronds… is one leaf, in a place where leaves struggle to get the size of a hand! The leaves of sumac can get as long as your arm!
No one seems to have a winter view. The bushes lose their leaves, leaving sticks in a hazy gray, but the leftover bunches remain the dark red flames through snow, gifting us with flashes of color even in the worst weather. There is an element of hope in the image, waiting for spring.
I often find myself envying places where the seasons change so distinctly. There’s something magical about the way nature transforms throughout the year.
Take autumn with its wonderful earthy hues. The leaves turn golden and fiery, blanketing the ground in a slippery, colourful mosaic. I also love the rainy days, the overcast grey skies, and the soothing rhythm of raindrops. It’s a season that feels like a vivid painting come to life, full of damp, earthy scents and the rustling of dried leaves.
Then there’s winter – a time of stark contrasts. The snow blankets everything, creating a serene, almost otherworldly landscape. The bare branches, the crisp, biting air, the quiet decay of matter beneath moistened by the snow – it’s like the world holds its breath. With its shorter days and cooler air, winter feels like a period of rest, a calm dormancy that whispers of renewal and rebirth.
Of course, I can’t forget the colourful, lively spring and the lush green of summer. I have trouble with hay fever, and the floral scents are too overwhelming for my senses, however. So, I must admit, I have a soft spot for autumn and winter.
Here, we experience our own kind of harshness. We have trees whose seeds only open when scorched by flames. This isn’t a cleansing I find easy to embrace – fire is a fierce, unsettling force. It sweeps across the land not with a quiet hush but with a roaring intensity. This kind of regeneration is born from blatant destruction. It has its own beauty, but…
My preference leans heavily towards the cooler, quieter seasons of autumn and winter. Each season shapes our experience of the world in different ways, but the gentle fall of leaves and rainy days of autumn, and the decay and darknesss of winter resonate most with me.
The photos look alright and show the origin of the ingredients as Egypt.
I wonder if it requires a cold winter. Otherwise, it seems we would have the terrain to grow it in, as I read that it likes dry soil without much nutrition. But then, they wouldn’t work in Egypt, would they?
We grow a lot of things here, but perhaps not this.
I haven’t tried to grow sumac, here, as I live in an apartment complex without access to open land. Besides, the government, here is pretty strict about what is allowed to be planted locally. We live in what is called “high desert,” meaning we have little more than scrub. People aren’t allowed to plant grass- except large companies who really don’t care about water supply.
Some plants require more water to survive than others, like dandelions, grass, trees, and chickory (my favorite flower). Our groundwater supply is low because of several years of drought. Thus people are being asked to save water any way they can. Invasive, non-native species like sumac are forbidden. Some choose to reduce showers. Others use low flow toilets and extra aerators in water faucets.
From the looks of the map of areas where Staghorn sumac is native, I gather that heat is an issue, rather than water supply. Staghorn sumac wouldn’t grow well for either of us, but the Egyptian variety might. If you can get access to whole seed, you could try burying some lightly. Depending on drying methods used, some of the seeds may yet be viable.
Hi Georgia! Sorry I’m a bit late to this, but I absolutely love tasseography! I’m always excited to look into a cup and see what can be found
I do want to say that the interpretations of the reader/drinker should always be considered first, as they (you) are the closest to the situation and in the best place possible to receive any messages or personal symbolism. That being said, I’m always happy to share my thoughts in the hope that they might help!
I also saw the star in the middle- it seemed very clear and well-defined! A star is a symbol of hope and light. Although it can seem distant, it is there and will guide us if we choose to look up and follow it.
The ring around it reminded me of a pentacle- a star/pentagram with a circle around it It’s interesting that the ring has a clear break in the top. Traditionally, the top point of the pentacle refers to the Element of Spirit- this could be read as a sign that your spiritual energy is opening up and is ready to reach new heights.
Just my two cents- always fun to see tea leaf readings! Thank you for sharing
Thank you, everyone! This has been a fun discussion.
I was impressed by having @tracyS from England and @starborn from Australia and me from the US all on at the same time. I honestly didn’t think that was possible! The world shrank just a bit, but also expanded in wonderful ways for me.
I’m grateful to hear from @BryWisteria . You’re so busy with everything around here that I hope you had a nice rest. The world didn’t implode without you, but sometimes it felt like it might. We love you!