How to Torture a Cold (and feed your family, too)

A cold is a cold is a cold. And it is a pain. Three days coming, three days with you, three days going. Science has yet to conquer this tiny mighty agent of infection and annoyance; so wily are they at changing their coats. This leads me to believe that these viruses may play a positive role in our lives and perhaps protect us from other, more deadly, viruses. This is just a lab chair hypothesis and  has not been tested rigorously. But there are some trials underway right now that are using the cold virus to kill cancer cells.


Yesterday a cold hit me upside the head ─ a rhinovirus without rivals; a post Christmas reminder (as if I needed it) that life is not all tinsel and cookies. With alarming speed it clogged my sinuses, and simultaneously turned on a spigot of, um, snot which the extra strength cold meds could not lock down. I moved from room to room, tissue box in hand, desperate to breathe free.

Today is day two. I wake, side step the pile of tissues the size of a ski run beside my bed, and head to the kitchen ... to roam. I have a tiny kitchen so roaming is really just spinning in place. I want to eat but why bother when I cannot smell, taste or chew without feeling like I am suffocating? Then it hits me, mid-spin, that all I want, and what I know will cure me, is Chicken Tortilla Soup. A survey of cabinet and cooler show we have none of the ingredients. Can I make it to the store in this condition? My family offers to go but in my enfeebled state I think this may be part of the cure so off I go to my local market ─ a wonder land of produce and foodstuffs from all over the world. This market is the third place in my life (home and lab being numbers one and two). It is nirvana. As a young, untenured professor I would often stop there on my way home to pick up a few things for dinner or special treats to delight the family. Just the sight of the fresh baked breads or pyramids of pomegranates were enough to cure the pre-tenure blues. My backup plan if tenure was denied was to work in this market, rotating from bakery to produce and finally graduating to the wine department where I would dazzle customers with my scientific knowledge of how fruit is transformed to a liquid with soul. I would be the market microbiologist.

Today is no different. Just walking into the store causes my body to tingle with the warmth of relaxation. Into the basket goes the free-range “happy” chicken, organic red onions, red and orange peppers, and organic chicken broth; avocados and cheese to heavily garnish the end product, and the tortilla chips (white corn, lightly salted). Just gathering the ingredients makes me feel hopeful that I can short circuit this vengeful virus. I am careful to avoid leaving behind virus bombs by wearing my gloves and not touching my nose. I feel virtuous but notice I am being given wide berth. At the checkout the young man politely asks, did you find everything you were looking for? My reply causes him to glance up and when he sees my red swollen nose and eyes, he quickly looks away and does not offer to carry my bags. I snatch the bag, and with one last snuff to avoid leaving a trail of slime, I make a dignified exit.

Home again I plunge into chopping onions and mincing garlic. A typhoon of onion tears (and other secretions) are loosed ─ nature’s decongestant ─ a flow that sends my husband and daughters scurrying. And I am alone with the head clearing, soul satisfying scent of onions and garlic simmering in olive oil. Time slows. Snot slows. The soup comes together and simmers. Soup moves to the table and we gather, as we always do, to share a meal. I bow my head and breathe.

Chicken Tortilla Soup


½ cup olive oil
2 medium red, orange or yellow peppers, seeded and chopped
1 medium red onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons dried oregano
1 teaspoon cumin
¾ teaspoon chili powder
2 tablespoons chopped Mexican green chilies (I use the canned type)
1 cup diced canned tomatoes with juice
4 cups organic chicken stock
2/3 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts
1 (15 ounce) can cooked black beans, drained and rinsed
2 cups fresh or canned corn
½ cup fresh cilantro, chopped
Sea Salt, to taste

Tortilla chips

Diced ripe avocado and shredded Monterey Jack cheese for garnish!

1. Heat olive oil in a pan over medium-high heat.

2. Sautee the peppers, onion garlic, oregano. Cumin and chili powder for 3 minutes, stirring often, until the onion is translucent.

3. Add canned chili peppers and tomatoes, heat and stir for 1 minute

4. Add the chicken broth and whole chicken breasts.

5. Bring soup to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes

6. Remove chicken breasts to cool. When cool enough to handle cut into bite-sized pieces.

7. Add cut-up chicken to the coup, add black beans and corn and return soup to a boil.

8. Remove the soup from the heat, stir in the cilantro. Season to taste with salt.


To serve: crunch a handful of tortilla chips in the bottom of each bowl. Ladle soup over the chips. Garnish with avocado and cheese!