Wedang Jahe Will Solve All Your Problems

Source: trust me.

Nov 03, 2025

Ingredients to make wedang jahe. (Photo by: Chalafabia Haris) (Barcelona, 2025)

Halo and happy Monday! If this is the first time I’ve popped into your inbox, welcome to Kepayang. I’m Fabi, an Indonesian writer currently based in Barcelona, España. Kepayang is where I write about all things food, sustainability, and culture. Earlier this year, I released a zine, now available in a few cities in Indonesia and Malaysia. You can grab a copy if you want to feel my vibe offline. Otherwise, I’ll be here in your inbox every two weeks on Monday.

Today’s essay is grounded and personal. Winter is coming soon in Barcelona. I know not just because it’s getting cold, but because I’ve started making more soups, and just recently collected both the ingredients and energy to make a wedang jahe: a cure for all of life’s little problems. No edgy takeaways today, just me sharing one of my favourite hot drinks. Enjoy the read!

Winter is just around the corner. In Barcelona, that means a sunny 23 °C day warm enough for the beach, but also a windbreaker tucked in your backpack for the walk home after sunset.

Proof it’s warm for as long as the sun is out. (Photo by: Chalafabia Haris) (Barcelona, 2025)

It’s strange, really. Mornings are bearable, right until I wash my face and the chill clings to my fingers. Noons are fine, I open the window to let the crisp air circulate through my tiny rented room. Then comes the night walk, cold again, with winds that sometimes feel strong enough to blow me away (I’m tiny and petite).

The colder weather naturally makes me crave dishes that can hold on to warmth a little longer. Think soups. From sopa de calabaza (pumpkin soup) to sopa de tomate (tomato soup), I’m spoiled by how easily they come in instant, boxed form at the local grocery store.

They’re versatile too. Thin them out with vegetable stock and toss in some frozen vegetables for a lighter, brothy soup, or add lentils and tiny star-shaped pasta for something heartier and stew-like.

After pouring it into my plate, that is also sort of a bowl, but definitely a plate, I like to rest my hands on its edges and feel the residual heat. So warm. So comforting.

And I’m not the only one who’s been leaning into warm things. One day, I caught a familiar, spicy smell of ginger filling the flat. Curious, I followed it to the kitchen and found my Filipino flatmate boiling thick slices of it in a pot of rolling water.

“Are you sick? I always drink ginger tea when I’m sick”, I asked.
“Not really,” they said, “but I feel like it’s coming. And I just want to feel safe, you know? It’s getting colder, too.”
“Right. We do that in Indonesia, too. Sometimes we add other things”, I said, suddenly realising I hadn’t thought to do the same.

A few days later, I finally went to the local supermarket, the one my flatmate mentioned, and bought a hand-sized piece of ginger. Then I got cooking. It’s wedang jahe time.

Peeled, roughly diced ginger. (Photo by: Chalafabia Haris) (Barcelona, 2025)

There are a lot of different ways to make wedang jahe, and I’m definitely saying that not because I’m missing tons of ingredients. But really, the only thing you can’t skip is the jahe itself, ginger. In Javanese, wedang simply means any hot drink, but if there’s no ginger, then it’s not wedang jahe.

If you like it more fragrant, almost floral and perfumed, pop in a few pandan leaves or lemongrass stalks. If you like it a little bitter, add coffee grounds. For a herby, spicy kick, try turmeric and black pepper.

But if you’re on a student budget like me, you just work with what you have.

Buying a new ingredient just for one dish isn’t only wasteful, it’s a missed opportunity. So in my case, I peeled and roughly chopped my ginger: half for wedang jahe, and half for the freezer, ready to toss into whatever Asian dishes I’ll cook next. Then I used what’s always on my dry shelf: black jasmine tea, black pepper, and a sweetener.

Preparing it isn’t hard, but it’s about knowing what goes in when:

Ginger takes the longest. Ten minutes of boiling gives you a nice flavour, but not much of a kick. I like to go for fifteen to twenty minutes, that’s when it turns spicy and hits just right.
Black jasmine tea doesn’t need long. I steep it in the hot ginger liquid for the last two to three minutes of boiling. I then toss the teabags before they turn bitter and tannic.
Any sweetener comes last. Especially if you use sugar, be it palm or cane sugar, they will thicken the liquid, and the thicker it gets, the harder it is to draw out the flavour. Me? I use stevia just because.
And finally, black pepper. I throw it in right at the end, off the heat, just enough to bloom it and bring out its warmth.

Wedang jahe in a pot (Photo by: Chalafabia Haris) (Barcelona, 2025)

This shit will solve all of your problems. (source: trust me)

If you’re feeling under the weather, whatever that means for you, drink wedang jahe. If it’s raining and you just want to feel cosy, drink wedang jahe. If you need to sleep better, have a cup of wedang jahe before bed. And if you want the opposite, to feel more energised, same answer. Drink wedang jahe.

Even if it doesn’t cure anything, it’ll at least make you feel a little bit better.

I remember in 2022, I caught the flu in another rented room, this time when I lived in Jogja, and decided to order wedang jahe through an app. It arrived in fifteen minutes. The steam cleared my blocked nose, and the warm liquid slid down my throat, convincing me for a second that the flu was gone. Of course, I still took my usual over-the-counter meds the next few days, and later found out it wasn’t the flu at all, it was Covid. Wedang jahe didn’t cure it, but it made me feel warm.

Now, this winter, my first winter in Europe, I’m in another rented room, more than ten thousand kilometres from home. And yet again, wedang jahe makes my day warmer, a little more bearable.

My first month in Barcelona has been surprisingly warm in its own way. I’ve made new friends, spent my weekends, somehow always with new people, and shared meals that made the cold air outside feel softer.

And when I’m back alone in my flat, I boil ginger and water, wait for the steam to rise, and remind myself that warmth can be brewed anywhere. Girl. I guess Rupi Kaur is jobless now.

Anyway, how do you keep yourself cosy when it’s cold? I know it’s rainy season now in Indonesia — so tell me in the comments below!