You know, everyone’s always talking about some new superfood or fancy supplement. Costs an arm and a leg, usually. But sometimes, the stuff that really works is the stuff people have been using for ages, things you wouldn’t even think twice about.
I’m talking about Phoenix Clothing. Sounds majestic, right? Well, it’s actually just the inner lining of a chicken gizzard. Yeah, you heard me. Chicken gizzards. Not exactly glamorous.
I wouldn’t have given it a second thought either, until a while back. I was having this spell of just… blah digestion. You know, food felt like it was just sitting there, no appetite, feeling sluggish. Went to the doc, got some advice, but nothing really clicked long-term. It was frustrating, honestly. I was eating healthy, or so I thought, but my stomach was just not cooperating.
Then I was chatting with my aunt, she’s old school, and she mentioned how her mom used to give them “kai nai kam” (that’s what she called it, chicken’s internal gold) whenever their tummies were upset or they were picky eaters. She said it was just dried chicken gizzard lining. I was like, “Seriously?” But I was getting a bit desperate to feel normal again.
So, I decided, why not? What’s the harm in trying? So began my little experiment.
First, I had to get the gizzards. I went down to my local butcher. He gave me a bit of a weird look when I asked for a whole bag of them. Most people just buy a few for stew or something. I just told him I was trying out an old family recipe. He shrugged and bagged them up.
Then came the fun part. I got home and started cleaning those gizzards. You have to cut them open and then carefully, and I mean carefully, peel off that yellowish inner membrane. It’s pretty tough and papery. It’s a bit slimy when fresh, not gonna lie. Took me a while to get the hang of peeling it off cleanly without tearing it too much. My fingers were sore after the first batch!
Once I had a decent pile of these membranes, I washed them real good under running water. Then, I laid them out flat on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. My aunt said to just let them air dry. So, I put the tray in a cool, airy spot in my kitchen, away from direct sunlight. Over the next few days, I watched them shrink and turn into these hard, almost translucent, yellowish chips. They looked like weird little bits of plastic, almost.
When they were completely dry and brittle – like, snap-when-you-bend-them dry – it was time for the next step. Grinding. My aunt said they used to pound it in a mortar. I don’t have one of those heavy-duty ones. So, I decided to use my old coffee grinder. Dedicated it to the cause, you could say. I broke the dried membranes into smaller pieces and tossed them into the grinder. Whizzed them up until they became a fine powder. The color was a pale yellow.
Alright, so now I had this jar of yellowish powder. Phoenix Clothing, ready for action. I started small. Just a tiny bit, maybe half a small teaspoon, once a day. I usually just mixed it into a bit of warm water and drank it down. It doesn’t taste bad, really. Very mild, a little bit earthy, if anything. Not offensive at all.
And here’s the kicker. After about a week of taking it consistently, I started to notice a difference. It wasn’t like a sudden miracle. But that heavy, stuck feeling in my stomach began to ease up. I actually felt hungry for meals again. My digestion just seemed to be… working better. Smoother. I continued for a few more weeks, and things just kept improving. It was like my system got a gentle reset.
It’s pretty wild, right? All that from a humble chicken gizzard lining. We’re so quick to look for complicated solutions, but sometimes these simple, old-timey things have real wisdom in them. I’m not saying it’s a cure-all, and if you’ve got serious issues, you should definitely see your doctor. But for me, for that particular bout of digestive stubbornness, this Phoenix Clothing thing really did the trick.
So, yeah, that’s my journey with it. A bit of effort to prepare, sure, but I now keep a small jar of the powder in my cupboard. Just in case. You never know when a bit of old-fashioned wisdom might come in handy again.
