Mother knows best

The children at the school where I teach seem to be full of colds and sniffles, so I to go to bed most nights with a slightly scratchy throat and tickly nose, convinced I’ve caught something. When I was a young freelance cook our busiest period was in the run up to Christmas, with all our clients wanting to celebrate the festive period, often on the same day. It was pandemonium and lasted for two weeks solid, right up to Christmas Eve, with no time to think about our own needs. Inevitably I would drive to my parents’ house late at night, exhausted and nursing the start of a cold that would last the whole holiday. I’m sure my symptoms were partly psychosomatic, because I was heading somewhere I knew I could flop and be looked after; if you’re going down with something there’s no nicer place to be than home.

It wasn’t just her words of comfort that made us feel better but also the food she gave us

In my childhood, Dad was the fun one: he would let you sit on his lap and steer the car up the drive or organise amazing outdoor games of hide and seek that invariably meant being tied to a tree or garden bench until you were rescued by a sibling or cousin. He was also fantastic if you had an accident, which we did all too frequently – falling off our bikes and knocking out teeth, tumbling off walls or swings and fracturing arms; once I even managed to break a leg putting my welly on back to front. His way of telling us how brave we were was by giving us bags of sweets (rarer than hen’s teeth in our house) and glasses of Lucozade. (Does anyone even like Lucozade? It seems unlikely, yet there was something so special about that dayglo orange, crinkly cellophane it came in.)

Mum was the soother and comforter for more mundane setbacks like colds and childhood illnesses. But you had to get past her authenticity test, which I failed frequently (putting the thermometer in my cup of tea wasn’t the best idea), whereas my brothers never tried to fake it as they loved school too much. If I managed to convince her I was genuinely ill, she’d phone up school and then I was allowed to lie in state on the sofa in the kitchen, bundled up in her old sheepskin coat. It was the best place to be, in the heart of the house rather than coughing away to myself upstairs.

And it wasn’t just her words of comfort and soft hands smoothing fevered brows that made us feel better but also the food she gave us. Soups rich in homemade chicken stock, gently poached fish, and milk or rice puddings were not only nutritious and gentle on the stomach, but also brought comfort, warmth and balm to our souls.

According to the Food Timeline, such remedies are not just sentimental, but backed up by science: “Some pudding-type foods have been considered healthy since ancient times. Case in point: rice pudding. This ancient recipe was traditionally prescribed for the young and infirm. The formulae were inscribed in medical texts before they showed up in cookbooks. Tapioca, arrowroot, and corn-starch puddings (made from new world thickeners) were also recommended as restoratives.” Lena Beal, a therapeutic dietitian, recommends the BRAT diet, which stands for bananas, rice, applesauce and toast. “Historically,” she notes, “it was used in paediatrics when kids got sick and couldn’t tolerate anything.”

Surely there is nothing a mother loves more than looking after her children? Though as I write this I can imagine my three rolling their eyes, because when they were young I could be horrible if they woke me in the night – though I truly did try my best to care for them in the daytime. And I was amused to note this Christmas that as soon as my strong, independent, adult children came home they lay reading on the sofa and were more than delighted for me not only to cook for them but also do their washing. Not that I’m complaining – it’s so rare these days for us all to be together that it was a delight to look after them. They arrived looking pale with black rings under their eyes and left looking brighter, well-fed and rested.

Jewish mothers are famous for their chicken soup, or Jewish Penicillin as it’s sometimes called. It is said that the twelfth-century Jewish philosopher Maimonides claimed it relieved colds, nourished pregnant women, and possibly cured asthma and leprosy. He wasn’t far off about the colds: a study done in 2000 revealed there are anti-inflammatory benefits to chicken soup.

BOF Soup
Seves 2-4

You can add those bits of loose veg rattling around the bottom of the fridge to this basic soup, but do ensure you have good chicken stock – it makes all the difference.

• – 1 onion
• – 25g butter
• – 1 carrot, peeled, halved and sliced
• – 2 celery sticks, sliced
• – Add any of the following: mushrooms, butternut squash, sprouts, cabbage, peas
• – 1 small tin sweetcorn
• – 600ml / 1 pint chicken stock

Peel, halve and slice the onion, place in a pan with the butter and cook, stirring for 5min, then add the carrot and celery and any other veg that need using up. Cook, stirring, for another 5min, then add the stock. Bring to the boil and simmer for 20min, add the sweetcorn and cook for another 5min. Season well.

Lydia Brownlow is a former cookery editor at Good Housekeeping magazine and contributor to The Daily Beast. She currently inspires children to cook. More info at lydiabrownlow.com