Despite my best efforts, COVID finally caught up with me last week. My doctor says it’s a mild case, and that lots of rest should see me through it without complications.
The symptoms are a days-long crushing headache, overwhelming fatigue and no appetite. And I do mean no appetite: When I woke up from one of my 16-hour naps the other day, I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything in 48 hours.
I ran through my mental checklist of easy-to-fix foods for invalids, but none had any appeal and most required more energy than I could muster to prepare. Scrambled eggs? Blergh — their yolk-iness was a little nauseating. A little buttered pasta? I could make it, but I wasn’t sure I’d stay awake long enough to eat it. Same for rice pudding.
The main thing was the energy required to do any cooking at all. Even the most modest kitchen task — peeling a carrot? — seemed out of the question.
Still, a girl has to eat, especially a sick one.
This clear, easy soup was my solution. Redolent with garlic and ginger, it smelled restorative and was so soothing going down. Instinctively, I knew that a brothy soup would be better than a puréed one, or something meat-heavy.
I prepared the soup in steps, because standing up for any length of time was too taxing. After one nap, I roasted the garlic; while it roasted, I cut up the carrots and set them aside. After another nap, I grated the ginger. Finally, after the third nap, I cut up the potatoes and dumped them into the pot with the other ingredients. Once it was on the simmer, showing barely a bubble, I went back to bed.
When I awoke, the house smelled delicious. Still not hungry, I went into the kitchen. I bet I could eat a small bowl of that, I thought. I could, and did. And then went back to bed.
The next time I woke up, I ate another small bowl. And then another. Each time, even with no appetite, I could eat a little more. The more I ate, the better I felt.
By the morning of the third day, the soup was down to its bones. I was hungry enough to finish it off and poached an egg in the last of the broth to boot.
I’m far from recovered — the doc said it may take two to three weeks for that — but I’m a little stronger and the headache is mostly gone. I’ve run through every movie on Netflix that holds even the remotest interest, but my naps are down to the two- to three-hour range. That’s a definite improvement.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed for a while.
Healing soup
Makes about 2 quarts, or 8 servings
Keep a pot of this gingery, garlicky soup on the simmer when you’re feeling frail. Because there’s no meat in it, it doesn’t need refrigeration as long as it’s simmering. You can dip into it whenever you need to, and its fragrant warmth and light consistency are easy on a troubled tummy. When you start to feel better, poach an egg in the broth before serving.
Ingredients
1 head garlic
2 quarts chicken or vegetable broth
1 inch of fresh ginger, grated (you don’t have to peel it)
1 bunch fresh spinach or 1 12-ounce bag or box of frozen spinach
2 to 3 large fresh carrots, peeled or scrubbed, sliced or grated
2 to 4 small white boiling potatoes, quartered
1 bunch green onions, sliced
Sesame oil, for garnish, optional
Lemon quarters, for garnish, optional
Preparation
Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Cut the top off the head of garlic and drizzle with olive oil, then wrap snugly in foil. Roast the garlic until it is soft, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool.
In a large heavy pot or slow cooker over medium heat, combine the broth, grated ginger, spinach, carrots and potatoes. Unwrap the garlic and pop the cloves out of their husks and into the pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a very low simmer — on my range, it’s halfway between 1 and 0. Let the soup simmer for 30 minutes to several hours.
When you need to eat, ladle out what you wish to eat, slice in some green onions and dress the soup with a few drops of sesame oil or a squeeze of fresh lemon juice if you wish.
