Man, let me tell you, a while back, I was feeling like absolute garbage. You know how it is, just dragging yourself through the day, feeling off. Went to the doc, got the usual ‘rest more, drink water’ spiel, which, yeah, thanks for that groundbreaking advice. But nothing was really cutting it. I was just perpetually feeling a bit under the weather, a bit sniffly, and my stomach always felt a bit iffy, like it was staging a tiny, constant protest.
So, my aunt, she’s one of those people who seems to have a plant-based remedy for absolutely everything. She kept going on and on about this ‘purple magic leaf,’ as she called it – Perilla. To be honest, I mostly just nodded along, thinking, ‘Sure, Auntie, another one of your garden weeds is going to cure all ills.’ I’ve always been a bit skeptical of all that old-school herbal stuff, you know? My usual thought is, just give me a pill, something straightforward and modern.
My Accidental Dive into Perilla
But things weren’t getting any better, and I was getting pretty fed up with feeling crummy. So, one day, she actually shows up with a big bunch of these leaves. They were dark purple, kinda fuzzy, and had a really strong smell – a bit like mint mixed with something earthy, maybe a hint of licorice? She told me, ‘Just make a tea with these, or if you’re feeling particularly rough, just chew on a fresh leaf.’ I figured, at that point, what did I really have to lose? Worst case scenario, it would taste weird, and I’d go back to complaining.
And you know what? That stuff actually seemed to do something! I started off simple, just steeping a few leaves in hot water like she said. The first few sips, I was still pretty unconvinced, thinking ‘this is it?’. But I stuck with it for a few days. And slowly, I started to notice things. My sniffles weren’t quite as persistent. And that grumpy, protesting feeling in my stomach? It seemed to have calmed down quite a bit. It wasn’t like some miracle cure that worked overnight, don’t get me wrong. It was more like things just gradually started to… settle. I even felt like my head was a bit clearer, less foggy.
I got a bit more adventurous with it later on. Started throwing a few fresh Perilla leaves into my salads. They give salads a real kick, a bit peppery, a bit minty – actually pretty good. Sometimes, if I felt that first tickle in my throat that usually means a cold is brewing, I’d just grab a fresh leaf from the pot I eventually started growing on my balcony – yeah, I got that into it – and just chew on it slowly. Sounds a bit odd, I know, but more often than not, it felt like it nipped things in the bud before they could really take hold.
So, what’s the big deal with this Perilla from my end? After all my fiddling around with it, here’s the stuff I can actually say I saw:
- My stomach, which used to be a real pain, actually started behaving itself. Less of that awful bloated feeling after I ate, and just generally less grumbling.
- Those annoying little coughs and constant sniffles that made me sound like I was always coming down with something? They definitely took a backseat. I wasn’t reaching for tissues nearly as much.
- Generally, I just wasn’t feeling like I was dragging a sack of potatoes around anymore. Had a bit more pep in my step, you know? Less like I was constantly running on empty.
- Plus, it’s not like you need a green thumb for it. I stuck a plant on my balcony, mostly forgot about it apart from watering it now and then, and it still grew like crazy. Can’t beat that for low maintenance.
It’s funny, isn’t it? You can spend ages looking for complicated solutions to feel better, and sometimes the answer is just a plant your auntie’s been nagging you about for ages. I’m not saying you should ditch your doctor or anything like that, definitely not. But for me, adding a bit of Perilla into my routine, whether as a tea or chucked into food, made a noticeable difference. It’s become one of those simple things I actually stick with because, well, it just seems to help keep things ticking over nicely. No fancy claims from me, just my own two cents from mucking about with it in my kitchen and, eventually, my tiny balcony garden.
