A memory of my father

My father always had a thing for home remedies. One that I still use to this day is his remedy for colds. I remember, as a kid, whenever I or either of my two younger sisters got coughy, my father would run to the corner store of of our New York City apartment building, bringing back a lemon, a hunk of ginger, and if we were out, a jar of Goya honey. He would then head to the kitchen to lovingly prepare his concoction (which is about the only stove-use I've ever witnessed of him; he was a griller). Not much to it: small pot of water, crushed ginger, lemon juice, juiced lemon halves, all brought to a boil. Honey to taste. That comforting warmth that would flood my chest, sour but sweet. And it always does the trick. A pleasant memory and a practical remedy. :)