So I’m struck down with a racking cough. Not a head cold you understand, but the kind of cough that in old movies used to signal a character’s imminent demise. Now my prognosis is much cheerier than that, but my current problem remains what to eat when I haven’t really got much appetite and have that permanently kinda salty thick taste in my mouth.

Chicken Soup! I hear you cry. Well of course, except that I only truly believe in the curative powers of homemade chicken soup. I also somewhat superstitiously believe that any chicken soup made by goyim just wouldn’t cut the mustard- or the phlegm, for that matter. At any rate, I have no homemade chicken soup to hand regardless of its origins, and am not within stumbling distance of any shop that would purvey said soup that didn’t come in granular form, with extra chemicals.

Now anything containing dairy is also out, since that’s just going to make me feel even more phlegmatic- like I’ve been chugging Elmer’s Glue, in fact.

So where do I turn?

Well, to the bonnet, the sarong, and Sophia Loren sunglasses respectively.

The bonnet, because I did find in my cupboard a tin of expensive beef consommé. Now this, if done well, has such a deep rich and yet clear flavour that it cuts through the phlegm. And there’s something just so comforting and nourishing about the old Victorian cliché of “He’s poorly. Ruby, get him a mustard plaster and some beef tea.” Plus, it usually has a hit of sherry, which certainly helps me sleep.

The sarong because I also happened to find in my fridge a tub of Tom Yam paste. This is the Thai hot snd sour paste that you need only boil up in a small saucepan of either water or stock, and its flavours are so, well, hot and sour, that it seems to strip the phlegm away give you an esophageal clarity, at least for awhile. Also, since it’s so darn hot, it heats you up as well and makes you sweat a bit, which I also find gets me better more quickly. It’s particularly excellent for head colds I find, since it helps clear the sinuses. Perhaps not one for when you have a high fever, though. Readily available in supermarkets these days, and keeps for ages in the fridge.

And finally, the Sophia Loren sunglasses, for when you need something more substantial than soup. By which of course I mean pasta, and by which I specifically mean Spaghetti Aglio e Pepperoncino (or garlicky spaghetti with chili, if you will).

The garlic is, of course, strong and good for you and the heat of the chili helps to give you the clarity I mentioned above. There’s also a bit of lemon, which is always good for you, but if you don’t have a fresh lemon to hand, can be done without. You can also make this without the chili flakes, and just rely on the garlic and lemon, or even just the lovely headiness of garlic to see you through. It’s also easily made with stuff you probably had to hand before you got sick, so here’s my recipe. It ain’t exactly authentic, but it’s the one I make.

Spaghetti Aglio E Pepperoncino

You will need:

• The amount of dried spaghetti (or other pasta) that you’re prepared to eat.
• 1/2 to 2/3 cup olive oil (depending on the amount of pasta)
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1/2-1 teaspoon dried chili flakes (depending on how much heat you like)
• grated rind of 1/4 lemon
• a good spritz of lemon juice
• salt and pepper

Cook the spaghetti according to package instructions. Meanwhile, in a very small saucepan, heat the oil over the lowest possible heat until it’s just fragrant. Throw in the garlic and the chili flakes. A moment after they’ve started to sizzle, take the saucepan off the heat. You don’t want the garlic to brown and then burn and turn bitter. Keep a peeled garlic clove that you bashed a bit to hand in case the chopped garlic browns too quickly. Should this happen, fish out the chopped garlic and throw in the bruised clove instead. The oil can then sit happily while you drain the cooked pasta and return it to the pan. Then pour the oil (judging how much by how much pasta you’ve cooked-you don’t want this greasy so less is more) over the pasta and toss well in the pan, seasoning with a good spritz of lemon juice and the salt and pepper.

Throw it all in a big bowl, and return to your bed and some comfortingly awful daytime tv.