Amalia Finn found herself getting ready for what she considered as “the season of sniffles,” as the air grew crisp and the days grew shorter.
Flu season swept her neighbourhood like clockwork every year, and she knew how rapidly it could bring down even the healthiest among her friends. But Amalia went to her kitchen instead of stocking her syrup or pill supply.
Food was first line of protection for her. She thought of the subdued power of warm broths, colourful vegetables, and spices that transcended taste to enhance a meal. “I don’t panic when I have that first tickle in my throat,” she says. “I begin to cook.”
Her recipes were based on comfort rather than sophistication or trendiness. A stew loaded with sweet potatoes and leafy greens; a pot of soup simmering with garlic and ginger; a warm tea made with lemon and honey. These foods provided resilience rather than only nutrition. They gently and naturally gave her body the gasoline it required for a fight back.
Amalia’s kitchen turned into a place of care for people around her as well as for herself. Often sharing her food with friends feeling under the weather, she grinned and handed them slippable jars of homemade broth. She says, “Food can be medicine; but, it’s also connection.”
Flu season was not something she was particularly looking forward. It served as a reminder to honour the needs of the body, slow down, and nourish profoundly. She discovered a way to stay well—and to enable others to do the same—by timing her chopping, stirring, and simmering.
