Leisha Horseradish is one of those plants that carries memory in its roots at least it has for me.
The ones growing here in my Ecuadorian gardens at home and the Project Site actually came from my old land in Canada. Fourteen years have passed since I left that soil, yet this root carries it within.
When I visited my family ten years ago on a vacation, I spent some time with my sister who resides on my old homestead. I dug a few pieces from the ground at my sister’s homestead, wrapped them carefully, and brought them back with me hoping immigration wouldn’t find them. They didn’t. I planted them!
They took a while to understand the climate here. I did have to baby them for some time. I was not sure they would last. But, with care, they did. And, after a year, I was able to make my first harvest.
I was very protective over the roots. I had spent so much time caring for them. Many wanted a little peice of the root for their own gardens. I hesitated, selfishly always explaining to myself you worked for this root. I did make horseradish and would sell it locally. It was popular and sometimes the proceeds literally put food on our table.
Over time I did share. She was so abundant and I gave up the “it’s mine” story. However, we did have one man attend our market garden Upick last year where you can fill a basket of produce from the garden for $15. He literally dug up a whole mature plant. I still feel this was very unfair. However, his actions reflect who he is not me!
Those same roots now thrive in our gardens, adapted yet familiar, still carrying the fire of the north and placed in our potato gardens as they are good friends.
She is a hardy, loyal plant. Once rooted, she rarely leaves. Her deep taproots break through dense clay, open compacted soil, and create channels for water and microbes.
She stirs the earth, just as she stirs the blood. Her pungent oils wake up soil life and help balance microbial activity. In the garden, she is known to be a fierce companion. When grown near potatoes, she naturally repels pests that feed on tubers. Her sulfur compounds and volatile oils move through the rhizosphere, supporting beneficial microbes that enhance nutrient exchange. The potatoes grown beside her taste richer, earthier, and somehow more alive. She gives flavor through the soil itself.
I harvest her every few months here. The roots grow thick and strong in this climate, and even a small piece will send up new shoots if left in the ground. Freshly grated, her heat travels through the sinuses and lungs like lightning. Roasted, she softens and becomes sweet, a medicine that warms and grounds the body. However she is used, she carries the same purpose: to move, to clear, to awaken.
Inside the body, horseradish behaves much as she does in the soil. She moves what has settled and brings life back to still places. Her volatile oils, rich in allyl isothiocyanate and sinigrin, stimulate circulation and increase blood flow to the surface. This helps carry oxygen through the tissues and supports the body’s natural detox pathways. The sharpness we feel in our nose and eyes is the same spark that wakes the immune system. It reminds the body to defend, to clear, and to breathe deeply again.
She is a powerful ally for the lungs and sinuses. Whenever I work with her, my eyes tear up and my nose start to run. A sure sign she is a cleaner. Her heat helps break up mucus and clear the respiratory passages.
For digestion, she awakens the liver and bile flow, helping the body process fats and eliminate waste. She also supports the kidneys by encouraging the release of excess fluids, keeping the terrain clean and balanced. In the microbial world of the gut, her compounds act as regulators discouraging overgrowths without harming the beneficial residents.
In the soil, horseradish does the same work. She balances, stimulates, and creates space for air and light. Her presence signals movement. Where she grows, the ground breathes more freely.
She is both purifier and energizer. In the body, she clears what is stuck. In the soil, she loosens what is compacted. Her lesson is simple: keep moving. Circulation, whether of blood, air, or microbes, is life.
When I grate her fresh, I always pause to breathe in that rush. It’s more than aroma; it’s energy. It reminds me that sometimes healing is not gentle or slow. Sometimes it comes as fire, clearing the path for balance to return. Horseradish teaches that truth with honesty and strength. She is not a delicate medicine, but she is a kind one. She works through clarity and courage.
Every time I harvest her here, I feel the thread between two lands. The same roots that once reached into Canadian soil now stretch into Ecuadorian land. Different soil, same soul. She connects the cold and the warm, the old and the new. She is the perfect symbol of adaptation, a reminder that life continues when we root deeply and keep growing.
We create many products in our store with horseradish including freeze dried powder and sauces. https://livinggroundstore.spread.name/?search=horseradish
