How to Grow Ginger Indoors (Even If You’ve Got No Garden and No Clue)

Short answer? Yeah, you totally can. I mean, if I can pull it off in my shoebox Auckland flat with more windows than insulation, you can too—wherever you are in the world. Ginger’s actually pretty chill once you get to know it.

Doesn’t throw tantrums like basil, and it doesn’t demand constant praise like roses.

All it really wants is warmth, a bit of light, and a comfy spot to stretch out. Sounds like me on a Sunday morning, tbh.

Getting Your Hands on a Decent Ginger Root

Right, so first thing you’ll need is a ginger rhizome—yep, that knobbly, weird-looking root thing you usually chuck into curry.

You can nab one from the supermarket (I grabbed mine from Woolies when it was on special). Just make sure it’s fresh—plump, firm, and has a few little bumps or ‘eyes’.

Those eyes are the magic bits that’ll sprout. If it’s shriveled or smells like your compost bin, give it a miss.

Soaking It—The Lazy Way

Some folks say to soak the ginger overnight before planting. I sometimes do, sometimes don’t.

Depends how motivated I’m feeling. But yeah, soaking can wake it up a bit—kinda like splashing cold water on your face after a big night.

Potting It Up (Yes, Size Matters)

Now ginger’s a horizontal grower. Doesn’t go deep, it goes wide. So get yourself a wide, shallow-ish pot.

Something with drainage holes. I found one at Mitre 10 that wasn’t too ugly and didn’t cost half my rent.

Use a decent potting mix—light, well-draining stuff. I mix in a bit of compost too, just to keep the worms happy.

Pop the ginger just below the surface, eyes pointing up. Cover it with maybe a couple centimetres of soil. Not too deep—it’s not trying to escape, just settle in.

Warmth, Not Sauna

This bit’s important. Ginger loves warmth. Not heatwave death-trap kind of hot, but steady, cosy temps.

Think “warm socks in winter” kind of vibe. I keep mine near the kitchen window, but not in direct blazing sun. Too much heat and it dries out faster than leftover toast.

If you’re in a cooler spot, maybe chuck it near a heat source—just not on top of it. Don’t cook the poor thing.

Watering Without Drowning It

Alright. Ginger likes a drink, but hates soggy feet. Bit like my mate Jess—always sipping tea but whinging if her socks get wet.

Keep the soil lightly moist. If it’s drying out, give it a good water, then let it drain. Don’t waterlog it unless you’re aiming for indoor swamp vibes.

Waiting Game (But Worth It)

Now here’s where patience comes in. Ginger is not a quick win. Might take a few weeks before you even see a sprout.

Took mine nearly a month to show anything—thought I’d killed it to be honest. But then, boom, little green shoots like tiny antennae popped up. Felt like I’d won the lotto.

Let it grow for a good 8–10 months if you want a decent harvest. You can snip off bits early, sure, but the longer it grows, the fatter the rhizome gets. Bigger root = better flavour.

It’s a slow burn kinda thing.

Harvesting Without the Drama

When the leaves start yellowing and dying back, it’s go time. Tip the pot out gently and have a wee dig.

You’ll find your ginger sitting there like buried treasure. I felt ridiculously proud, not gonna lie. Like, I grew this. Indoors. Next to the recycling bin.

Take what you need and if you’re clever, replant a piece with a sprout to keep the cycle going.

Bonus Tips (aka Stuff I Wish I Knew Earlier)

• Fertiliser? Sure, now and then. I toss on a bit of worm tea when I remember. Not essential, but nice.
• Mouldy bits? Chuck them. Don’t risk the whole batch going bad.
• Light? Dappled’s ideal. Bright but not frying. Like a tui chilling under a pōhutukawa.
• Humidity? Ginger likes it a bit steamy. If your place is dry as toast, mist the leaves now and then. Or just whack it near the kettle.

So yeah. That’s growing ginger indoors, Kiwi-style. It’s not rocket science, but it does ask for a bit of patience and a little love.

And hey, there’s something kinda magic about snapping off a chunk of fresh ginger you grew yourself, even if it’s in a cracked pot by the toaster.

Give it a go. Worst case, you’re out one supermarket root and a bit of dirt.

Sweet as.