Before the British arrived, njahi (sometimes spelled njahe) was a staple food of the Gikuyu of Central Kenya—it was native to the region, and its drought tolerance greatly enhanced its appeal. Njahi figured largely in Gikuyu culture, occupying an important place in Gikuyu spirituality, and it was associated closely with fertility. Nursing mothers were told “ninguka kuria njahi” (“I will come eat njahi”), which meant that the person saying the phrase would come see the new baby soon. The Gikuyu anthropologist Jomo Kenyatta (in the time before he became a rogue of a president) wrote of how njahi was fed to girls before clitoridectomy was performed. The British colonial writer Elspeth Huxley wrote that njahi was used for divination. Kirima Kia Njahi, a mountain in Central Province (literally “the mountain of njahi”), was believed to be one of the main dwelling places of God. On the lower slopes of the mountain grew njahi cia Ngai (God’s njahi). The long rains season was known as Mibura ya njahi (directly translated as “the season of long rains and harvest of njahi”).

In the end, this reporter realized that what the njahi wars were really about is that some people don’t understand that food is supposed to be tasty. And that maybe the colonizers were right about this one thing.

Editor’s note: Determined to provide a counterpoint—these are the njahi wars, after all!—we’ve asked Kiano Moju to create a rendition of njahi that we’re confident at least some readers will enjoy. You can join the fray by making the dish linked below. It was raining the first time I cooked njahi. As I put the beans to boil, the rain abated, and then ceased. I went back to the living room. I read a book, watched some TV, listened to music, whatever. At some point, the air filled with that particular smell rain produces when it hits dust on the road after a particularly dry stretch, and I was momentarily confused. After a few moments, I realize that the smell was coming from my kitchen. It was the njahi, boiling on the stove.

Boiled njahi is dark brown, and its once white strips had turned into black strips. To cook the njahi, after it has boiled, I used a spare recipe: onions and tomatoes fried in vegetable oil, salt and pepper, a few chiles tossed in, dhania (cilantro) sprinkled on top at the end. I was determined to taste the njahi in-itself. When I told someone that I was making njahi, and she told me she was 99% certain that I would hate it the first time I ate it, I scoffed. Some things are acquired tastes, she said. I don’t believe in acquired tastes when it comes to food. I tell her this is an excuse to explain away bad food.

I served the njahi with steamed rice. The smell of the cilantro plus chiles plus pepper was enticing. I ate the njahi. It was…not bad. But it wasn’t good either. It was…nothing. Its blandness was overpowering. The njahi assaulted me with its blandness, and I immediately thought of the other beans I have stocked in my pantry, and wondered why I hadn’t just made them instead. Njahi’s taste is what I imagine British food tastes like, and I wonder what it means that the British themselves embarked on a deliberate campaign to excise it from the Gikuyu diet.

Given the Kenyan government’s response to the nationwide protests, and everything that’s happened since with regards to police violence, its answer to Njugush seems to be, “No they don’t. Black beans don’t matter.” In other words, njahi’s gonna be njahi’d.

And yet, setting aside Njugush’s metaphor, if the KOT are to be believed, the njahi wars do matter. Martha Karua, who ran for the presidency in Kenya in 2013, is a njahi defender. One of Kaluhi Adagala’s fans frames njahi’s importance succinctly, “My queen @KaluhisKitchen defending us Njahi eaters is the only thing that matters to me rn.” (“You are very good Kaluhi but njahi can’t be saved,” a Twitter user says in retort, illustrating the stakes of it all.)

In that vein, therefore, this reporter decided to purchase his own bag of njahi. He sauntered into the supermarket, spotted the beans, black flat ovoids with a white cap on the side. “Nipee njahi,” he said, acting like this was something he was used to, nailing the pronunciation and everything.

Njahi, as Njugush has it, is ordinary citizens. Njahi is poor people. Njahi is the people who have been shot dead by Kenyan cops in the wake of enforcing COVID-19 curfews, a tally that in the early period of the pandemic rivaled that of the virus itself, even as leading politicians politicked and held massive campaign rallies for an election two years in the future. At the end of the video, Njugush chants, “Black beans matter! Black beans matter!”

It was raining the first time I cooked njahi. As I put the beans to boil, the rain abated, and then ceased. I went back to the living room. I read a book, watched some TV, listened to music, whatever. At some point, the air filled with that particular smell rain produces when it hits dust on the road after a particularly dry stretch, and I was momentarily confused. After a few moments, I realize that the smell was coming from my kitchen. It was the njahi, boiling on the stove.

Immanuel Kant argues that despite the fact that we believe that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder (or, in this case, that flavor is in the tongue of the taster), we debate and argue about our aesthetic judgments in a bid to achieve a certain kind of universality. Perhaps this is what the njahi wars are really about; an attempt to decide, collectively, whether or not njahi is actually food. I don’t know, although I do know Kant never imagined that he’d be cited in the njahi wars of 2017-2021.

Invariably, the njahi wars pale in comparison to the fervor with which the biggest food war in Africa —the jollof war—is waged. The two jollof rice giants, Ghana and Nigeria, battle for supremacy, with each talking about its jollof variant like it’s holy ghost fire. This is a war that Kenya, for some inexplicable reason, has decided it wants to be a part of, with the declaration that its pilau is better than any form of jollof rice. The rules of war journalism state that a reporter should stay objective, and shouldn’t take part in any conflict they’re covering. But this reporter isn’t impartial. This reporter is Kenyan, after all, and thinks that pilau is better than anything jollof.

Nowadays, Kenya is Africa’s largest producer of common beans, but the amount of njahi produced pales in comparison. Because of its relative scarcity, njahi is currently the most expensive bean type in Kenya; while it remains a part of the Gikuyu diet, it has been superseded by other beans, such as the borlotti, which is more commonly referred to in Kenya as the rosecoco.

So njahi is inherently political. But this idea of njahi as a kind of lesser bean, one that’s been usurped by colonial beans, was tapped into last year by the popular Kenyan comedian Njugush, as part of his critique of the Kenyan government, its policies for enforcing Covid-19 curfews, and the epidemic of police violence in the country. On June 2, 2020, at the height of protests over police killings in the US, Njugush posted a video titled “Njahi: Human Beans Matter.” In the clip, Njugush metaphorizes the police killings in both Kenya and the US. “Why do you hate poor lives?” he asks. “Kwa nini mnachukia njahi?”—Why do you hate njahi?

But then came the British. In her paper “Black, White, and Red All over: Beans, Women, and Agricultural Imperialism in Twentieth-Century Kenya,” Claire C. Robertson writes, “The colonial administration sought to impose on Kenya the British model of agriculture, including an approved list of crops to be grown at the exclusion of all others.” Njahi was one of the foods that was to be excluded. By 1939, as W. L. Watt, the Central Province senior agricultural officer, observed, “Njahe had lost its supreme position in the Gikuyu district, due to its being limited to local markets.” The colonial administrators had introduced foreign bean species in the region—in particular French beans, which were meant for export—and established a system of taxation. Since the colonial markets didn’t accept indigenous bean varieties, and farmers needed to sell beans in order to pay the taxes that had been levied by the British, Gikuyu farmers shifted to producing beans for the export market, and no longer cultivated beans like nyagaitho, nyakamandu, ndulei, kamuiru, and wamwetha.

To its detractors, none of this matters. Njahi, according to them, is every negative adjective in the book—disgusting, terrible, atrocious, etc.—and hardly deserves to be called food. Those who do acknowledge it as food often do so only to describe how bad it is: it tastes like 2020; it tastes like a sad only child; it tastes like grief and abandonment issues; it tastes like there’s no internet connection; it tastes like “chalk dust mixed with cement…no matter which way you cook it”; it tastes like unreplied-to emails when you’re unemployed; Leah Kanda, one of Kenya’s leading food bloggers, says it tastes like rusty iron nails cooked in soup. Et cetera.

At the heart of the njahi wars is the question of who gets to determine which foods are tasty. But at the real heart of these wars, as with a lot of other wars, is the violence of British colonialism.

Get to know Kenya’s iconic love-it-or-hate-it ingredient. There’s been a war simmering on Kenyan food Twitter for some time. It was all brought to the fore when Kaluhi Adagala, arguably the biggest food writer in Kenya, having been featured in best-of lists on HuffPost, Cosmo, CNN, etc., posted a recipe for njahi, and Kenyans on Twitter (KOT) reacted. One irate KOT wrote, “Njahi Defence Association have hired their strongest weapon, Kaluhi to unleash proper PR on that prison food.”

On one side of the njahi wars, led by Adagala, are its defenders, who extol its virtues. Njahi (scientific name Lablab purpureus, black beans/dolichos/hyacinth bean/etc. in English) is a black bean with a white stripe running down its middle. It tastes wonderful, is a good source of insoluble fiber; it’s said to cleanse the gut, reduce blood pressure, play a key role in blood sugar regulation by slowing down the release of simple sugars, facilitate the body’s removal of excess fluids through the kidneys; and it contains compounds known as phenols, which supposedly help to reduce weight.

Instructions
In a medium mixing bowl, add all ingredients except for the dill and cucumber (so onion, garlic, coconut yogurt, salt, pepper, lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, mustard, and maple syrup). Mix the dressing until smooth. NOTE: For less intense onion/garlic flavor, you can soak the onion and garlic in boiling water for 5 minutes, then strain well and add to the mixing bowl.
Add the dill and sliced cucumber and mix again until cucumber is well coated with dressing.
Taste and adjust as needed, adding lemon juice or apple cider vinegar for acidity, maple syrup to balance the acidity, dill for herby flavor, or more cucumber for a less saucy dressing.
Best when fresh. If preparing in advance, store dressing and cucumber separately in the refrigerator for up to 2-3 days. Not freezer friendly.
Notes
*Thinly slicing the onion is more traditional, but we found it easier to eat when finely diced.
*Adapted from The Blond Cook.
*Nutrition information is a rough estimate.

The summertime brings an abundance of cucumbers, and this creamy cucumber and onion salad is the perfect way to put them to use! The concept came to be when we hosted a German food night with friends and needed a side salad but wanted to keep it dairy-free. It’s quick and easy to throw together and perfect for warm weather gatherings. Let us show you how it’s done!

Cucumber, dill, red onion, mustard, maple syrup, salt, pepper, apple cider vinegar, lemon, garlic, and vegan yogurt
How to Make Creamy Cucumber Salad
The dressing for this creamy cucumber salad relies on a base of thick, tangy coconut yogurt to keep it dairy-free. Apple cider vinegar and lemon juice add additional tanginess, dijon mustard and garlic add zing, salt and pepper add more flavor, and maple syrup balances it all out.

Sliced cucumber and dill beside a bowl of creamy coconut yogurt dressing
The main ingredients in this salad (besides the creamy dressing) are red onion, cucumber, and fresh dill.

More Cucumber Recipes
Creamy Pineapple Cucumber Smoothie
6-Ingredient Vegan Tzatziki
Quick Refrigerator Pickles
Cucumber Cooler Cocktails
If you try this recipe, let us know! Leave a comment, rate it, and don’t forget to tag a photo #minimalistbaker on Instagram. Cheers, friends!

Bowl of creamy cucumber onion salad with fresh dill
Creamy Vegan Cucumber Salad (German-Inspired)
Creamy, German-inspired cucumber salad with fresh dill and tangy coconut yogurt. A refreshing, plant-based side for BBQs and beyond. Just 15 minutes, 10 ingredients, and 1 bowl required!
Top down shot of a bowl of creamy cucumber salad
5 from 6 votes
PREP TIME
15 minutes
TOTAL TIME
15 minutes
Servings
4
(Side servings)
CourseSide Dish
CuisineGerman-Inspired, Gluten-Free, Vegan
Freezer FriendlyNo
Does it keep?3 Days
Ingredients
US Customary – Metric
2/3 cup finely diced red onion (or halved & thinly sliced with a mandolin* // ~1/2 medium onion as recipe is written)
1 large clove garlic, minced
1 cup unsweetened plain coconut yogurt (we like Culina)
1/2 tsp each sea salt and black pepper
2 Tbsp lemon juice (~ 1 medium lemon as recipe is written)
1 ½ Tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 tsp dijon mustard (or yellow mustard)

Cucumbers are incredibly cooling and hydrating, making them perfect for the warmer months. They also supply antioxidants, fiber, vitamins K and C, magnesium, and potassium. And let’s not forget about their satisfying crunch!

Dill adds a fresh, herby element and is the perfect pairing for cucumbers!

Bowl with sliced cucumber, dill, onion, and creamy vegan dressing
We hope you LOVE this cucumber salad! It’s:

Fresh
Creamy
Tangy
Crisp
Quick & easy
& SO delicious!

It’s the perfect plant-based side for BBQs and beyond! Try it paired with our Easy Grillable Veggie Burgers, Simple French-Style Potato Salad, Creamy Roasted Red Pepper Tomato Soup, and/or Easy Zucchini Fritters.

Red onion is the sweetest of the onions, making it the best option for salads. But if you’re looking for something even milder, you can soak the onion (and garlic) in boiling water to decrease its intensity.

1-2 tsp maple syrup (to balance out the flavor)
1/4 cup finely chopped dill
1 medium cucumber, halved lengthwise, thinly sliced (~2 cups as recipe is written)

This is a summery cucumber agua fresca, and it is the only summer drink I ever want to drink in the summer from now until… the end of summer.

(Long live summer.)

I recently learned about agua fresca and I won’t ever be the same.

Some things I learned:

An agua fresca is a light, non-alcoholic drink.
The translation literally means “fresh water” or “cool water.”
It’s popular in Mexico, Central America, and the US.
It’s usually made with fruits, flowers, seeds, etc. that are blended with sugar and water.
IT’S REALLY MY FAVORITE THING EVER RIGHT NOW.
Here’s my current favorite version: cucumber, lime, mint, lemongrass (had some left over from this salad, remember?), sugar and honey.
What happens now is you blend it.

And it’s going to get a bit chunky – no worries. You’re just going to pour it through a strainer to remove your pulp, so all you’re left with is the extremely potent, lightly sweet, totally refreshing good stuff.

All your Grecian food dreams come true: juicy garlicky lemon chicken souvlaki with tzatziki and a crisp and crunchy cucumber salad.
Have you guys been to Greece? I’ve never been but I’ve always been interested in the azure blue seas, the white washed buildings, and the food. Oh, and the partying. I always think of partying when I think of Greece because when I was in high school I had a pen pal (do they still do that in high school? Pen pal cultural exchange things?) who told me that she would go out with her friends and party until four in the morning and then go out for chicken souvlaki. It sounded so grown up and mysterious to me. At 13 I definitely wasn’t a stay out all night kind of person. And, who am I really kidding, I’m not one now either.

The chicken souvlaki at four in the morning I could go for though. I’m all about crazy late night eats. It’s one of the only things that can entice me out of a cozy bed: snacks. Snacks or full on meals, I’m not picky.

Ingredients
Chicken Souvlaki

1 lb boneless skinless chicken thighs cut into bite size pieces
1 tbsp avocado or extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 cloves garlic crushed
1.5 tbsp oregano
1/2 tsp salt
freshly ground black pepper
Tzatziki
1 cup whole milk Greek yogurt
1/4 cucumber grated, juices squeezed out
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp fresh lemon juice or to taste
2 cloves garlic crushed
salt to taste
Cucumber Salad
1/2 cucumber sliced
1 tbsp vinegar of choice I used rice vinegar
1 tbsp olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
sliced red onions to garnish if desired

Instructions
Marinate the chicken pieces in the oil, lemon juice, garlic, oregano, salt, and pepper for 30 minutes to 1 hour.
Meanwhile, make the tzatziki sauce: mix together the yogurt, cucumber, olive oil, lemon juice, herbs, and garlic. Taste and season with salt.
Make the cucumber salad: toss together the cucumber with vinegar and oil. Season with salt and pepper and garnish with red onions.
Skewer the chicken onto skewers and grill over medium high heat until cooked through, flipping as needed, 8-10 minutes.

This is a summery cucumber agua fresca, and it is the only summer drink I ever want to drink in the summer from now until… the end of summer.

(Long live summer.)

I recently learned about agua fresca and I won’t ever be the same.

Some things I learned:

An agua fresca is a light, non-alcoholic drink.
The translation literally means “fresh water” or “cool water.”
It’s popular in Mexico, Central America, and the US.
It’s usually made with fruits, flowers, seeds, etc. that are blended with sugar and water.
IT’S REALLY MY FAVORITE THING EVER RIGHT NOW.
Here’s my current favorite version: cucumber, lime, mint, lemongrass (had some left over from this salad, remember?), sugar and honey.
What happens now is you blend it.

And it’s going to get a bit chunky – no worries. You’re just going to pour it through a strainer to remove your pulp, so all you’re left with is the extremely potent, lightly sweet, totally refreshing good stuff.

Cucumber Agua Fresca! Cucumber, lime, mint, lemongrass, sugar, and honey. The perfect tart + fresh summery drink!

INGREDIENTS
3 small cucumbers, cut into chunks
10 fresh basil leaves (or mint!)
2 whole limes, unpeeled and cut into quarters
1 tablespoon lemongrass paste or fresh lemongrass (can also use ginger)
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup honey
2 cups water + an additional 2 cups water later
ice for serving
INSTRUCTIONS

Blend the cucumbers, basil, limes, lemongrass, sugar, honey, and 2 cups water together until smooth-ish. The color is gorgeous and the flavor is like a sweet and cooling waterfall for your mouth with just a slight bite from the lime because, yes, we put the whole lime in there.
Which will then be watered down further (to your liking!) and poured over ice to make the best thing you’ve sipped on all summer.
The color is gorgeous and the flavor is like a sweet and cooling waterfall for your mouth with just a slight bite from the lime because, yes, we put the whole lime in there.

I could actually drink a full pitcher of this stuff. It’s AMAZING.

The equipment section above contains affiliate links to products we use and love!

For two people, we usually drink half of our batches that evening, and then keep the rest in the fridge and finish it the next night! Use best judgment in terms of food safety with your extras, as unpasteurized juices (especially ones that are not served fresh) can be unsafe for certain people.

Potentially unpopular opinion? But I like to leave the WHOLE lime in the juice because the rind and pith of the lime gives a bitterness to the finished agua fresca that I think is so, so delicious. (Reminds me of this pie.) Also, since I don’t add alcohol to mine, this helps it feel slightly more like a cocktail. If you’re not a fan of any bitter flavor, just use lime juice instead of whole limes.
Using a fine mesh strainer to catch all the pulp, pour the agua fresca into a pitcher. Discard pulp.

Mix an additional 2 cups water into the pitcher. Store in the fridge and serve over ice! SO GOOD.

Aspirin — This over-the-counter analgesic is commonly added to DIY chemical facial peels in order to provide a boost of salicylic acid, which helps encourage the shedding of the outer layer of skin while providing an effective treatment for acne and psoriasis, among a variety of other skin conditions. You can easily dissolve uncoated aspirin tablets in water and crush them using the back of a spoon to add them to your DIY peels.

Lemon — A natural source of antioxidants, lemon juice is a common additive in a wide variety of homemade facial peels. As you may know, lemon also has lightening properties, which makes it a popular ingredient for skin care masks, peels and products aimed at correcting age spots. Lemon and other citrus juices are quite acidic, they have high pH levels, so for safest results they should be combined with neutralizers, like baking soda.

Baking soda — With its alkaline nature, baking soda can be used as a neutralizer in your homemade chemical peel, ensuring that the acids found in other ingredients — especially citrus juice — don’t dry out or damage your skin.

DIY chemical peel for wrinkles: the egg white peel

Ingredients

1 egg white

½ cup de-seeded cucumber pulp

1 teaspoon lemon juice

Instructions

This DIY chemical peel recipe is very simple. All you have to do is beat one egg white and mix it with cucumber pulp. Add a teaspoon of lemon juice and mix well, creating a spreadable paste.

Apply the finished product to your face and allow it to sit for 20 minutes before rinsing it off with water. The combination of egg whites — which naturally smooths wrinkles — and cucumbers will help de-wrinkle and moisturize the skin at once.

DIY chemical peel for dry skin: the AHA chemical peel

Ingredients

¼ cup white cane sugar

¼ cup yogurt

Instructions

This homemade glycolic acid peel is a great option for those with dry, itchy, irritated skin. The cane sugar provides natural exfoliation while the yogurt helps to restore hydration. Try this nourishing option as a DIY chemical peel for dark spots, as the natural glycolic acid helps to even out the skin.

To make the AHA (alpha hydroxy acid) peel, mix the cane sugar and yogurt until you have a slightly granulated paste. Use your fingers to apply the mask to your face, avoiding the eye area. Let the peel rest on your face for ten to 15 minutes before wiping it away with a towel and cool water.

DIY chemical peel for oily skin: the BHA chemical peel

Ingredients

1 tablespoon baking soda

1 cup water

12 uncoated aspirin tablets

Lemon juice

Instructions

With this homemade chemical peel, aspirin delivers salicylic acid to wash away excess oil and encourage natural hydration. The baking soda acts as your homemade chemical peel neutralizer, which works against the acid of the lemon juice.

To make the BHA (beta hydroxy acid) peel, combine the baking soda with the water in a bowl and set the mixture aside. Place the aspirin in a shallow dish and sprinkle the lemon juice over the aspirin. Use the backside of a spoon to crush the aspirin into the lemon juice, creating a thick paste.

Use your fingers to spread the peel over your face, avoiding the eyes. Let it sit until dry, about ten minutes, and then wipe it off with a cotton ball soaked with the baking soda mixture.

DIY chemical peel for feet: the aspirin foot peel

Ingredients

12 uncoated aspirin tablets

Lemon juice

A thick moisturizer

Instructions

Much like the BHA chemical peel, this concoction utilizes aspirin as a source of salicylic acid. To make the mixture, place the non-coated aspirin tablets in a bowl while you soak your feet in hot water for about 20 minutes. Before allowing the aspirin to completely dissolve, pour the juice of one lemon over the aspirin and mix it into a thick paste.

Dry off your feet before applying the paste all over them. Then, wrap your feet in plastic bags with plastic wrap. Leave the mixture on for two hours or more. Once the time is up, rinse your feet and dry them well. Finish the treatment with a layer of thick, hydrating lotion. We recommend this homemade chemical peel for legs, ankles, and feet.

DIY chemical peel for acne scars: apple cider vinegar peel

Ingredients

1 teaspoon organic, unfiltered apple cider vinegar

1 tablespoon applesauce

Instructions

Apple cider vinegar has long been touted as a natural way to diminish the appearance of acne scars, since it removes dead skin cells and helps regenerate the top layers of the skin. To make this corrective facial mask, simply combine the apple cider vinegar with the applesauce and stir well until fully combined.

Apply the mixture to your face and let it sit for ten to 15 minutes before thoroughly removing it with a soft cloth and water.

DIY chemical peel for sensitive skin: cucumber and tea peel

Ingredients

1 cup green tea

1 cup chamomile tea

1 small cucumber

1 teaspoon unflavored gelatin

4 ounces of water

Instructions

Irritated, itchy, and dry skin gets love with this unique facial peel. The green tea calms irritated skin, while the cucumber provides ascorbic acid (vitamin C) which can soothe skin irritations and help reduce swelling.

To make this mask, steep the chamomile and green teas together in approximately 4 oz (100ml) of water and add the unflavored gelatin. Blend a cucumber until it resembles the consistency of a paste, and add the cucumber juice to the tea and gelatin mixture.

Before applying to your face, allow the mix to cool in the refrigerator for about a half an hour to thicken up. Apply to your face for between 15 and 20 minutes, or until it completely dries, and then peel off the mask using warm water.

Cucumber Agua Fresca! Cucumber, lime, mint, lemongrass, sugar, and honey. The perfect tart + fresh summery drink!

INGREDIENTS
3 small cucumbers, cut into chunks
10 fresh basil leaves (or mint!)
2 whole limes, unpeeled and cut into quarters
1 tablespoon lemongrass paste or fresh lemongrass (can also use ginger)
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup honey
2 cups water + an additional 2 cups water later
ice for serving
INSTRUCTIONS

Blend the cucumbers, basil, limes, lemongrass, sugar, honey, and 2 cups water together until smooth-ish.
Which will then be watered down further (to your liking!) and poured over ice to make the best thing you’ve sipped on all summer.
The color is gorgeous and the flavor is like a sweet and cooling waterfall for your mouth with just a slight bite from the lime because, yes, we put the whole lime in there.

I could actually drink a full pitcher of this stuff. It’s AMAZING.

The equipment section above contains affiliate links to products we use and love!

For two people, we usually drink half of our batches that evening, and then keep the rest in the fridge and finish it the next night! Use best judgment in terms of food safety with your extras, as unpasteurized juices (especially ones that are not served fresh) can be unsafe for certain people.

Potentially unpopular opinion? But I like to leave the WHOLE lime in the juice because the rind and pith of the lime gives a bitterness to the finished agua fresca that I think is so, so delicious. (Reminds me of this pie.) Also, since I don’t add alcohol to mine, this helps it feel slightly more like a cocktail. If you’re not a fan of any bitter flavor, just use lime juice instead of whole limes.
Using a fine mesh strainer to catch all the pulp, pour the agua fresca into a pitcher. Discard pulp.

Mix an additional 2 cups water into the pitcher. Store in the fridge and serve over ice! SO GOOD.

This is a summery cucumber agua fresca, and it is the only summer drink I ever want to drink in the summer from now until… the end of summer.

(Long live summer.)

I recently learned about agua fresca and I won’t ever be the same.

Some things I learned:

An agua fresca is a light, non-alcoholic drink.
The translation literally means “fresh water” or “cool water.”
It’s popular in Mexico, Central America, and the US.
It’s usually made with fruits, flowers, seeds, etc. that are blended with sugar and water.
IT’S REALLY MY FAVORITE THING EVER RIGHT NOW.
Here’s my current favorite version: cucumber, lime, mint, lemongrass (had some left over from this salad, remember?), sugar and honey.
What happens now is you blend it.

And it’s going to get a bit chunky – no worries. You’re just going to pour it through a strainer to remove your pulp, so all you’re left with is the extremely potent, lightly sweet, totally refreshing good stuff.